Tweet of the Day, MARVEL At The Stupidity edition.

Ehh, ehh? Get it? GET IT?

I’m sorry. I knew it was a bad idea when I wrote the headline.


Via @alexthechick.

07/22/2024 Snippet, THE REAL THING.


The protection spell helped, too. It turned gutting swipes into slashes and bone-splintering chomps into bites, and the party could fight back. You hear stories about elven archers? It turns out they’re all true. ‘Bob’ in particular was a whirling dervish, leaving three knives in three naked lizard eyesockets in four seconds before buckling down to shoot in the suddenly-cleared space around him. He emptied his quiver in moments, but that didn’t matter; I saw him plucking arrows out of the actual air as the archers tumbled and dodged their way around the fight. The elves call it the nurulilte, the Dance of Death, and seeing it made me very glad that Virginia and the Elf-Lands were at peace.

I was doing some cavorting on my own, looking for the team. The fighters were fine on their own; the Carver brothers had lived up to their own name, spraying lizard blood and guts about them as they hewed a way to the fallen archer; and Elanor — dammit, Elanor was in a circle of flame, surrounded by a ring of angry, scorched naked lizards. Worse, the flames were flickering. Alchemy is wonderful, and sometimes even better than magic. It just doesn’t last long.

Anyway, I know a hint when I see one.

EXCITING NEWS! S.M. Stirling’s third Lords of Creation novel has a March 202[5] publication date.

It’s also called LORDS OF CREATION, and it’s a sequel to his previous novels THE SKY PEOPLE and IN THE COURTS OF THE CRIMSON KING. These books start with the premise What if the Golden Age SF novels were right about Mars and Venus being habitable? …and then thinking of what would have to happen to make that work. End result? A very cool alternate-history scenario — and a book I’ve been waiting years for.


07/20/2024 Snippet, THE REAL THING.

Naked lizards! …The horrible kind. Not the weird Skyrim mod kind.

Our best bet was to move west, and track down what the old maps called the Chattahoochee River. 

I have no idea what that word means, by the way. I’m assuming it meant something like ‘hidden,’ because we had spent a day trying to find it, and failing. And it was hot, and it was dry, and the air was also somehow greasy, and every fly and mosquito in Georgia was trying to make our acquaintance.

That last, at least, I could do something about; I used a cantrip from the Second Republic to suck the life force out of every bug that came within twenty feet. It worked fine, but that meant the party had to try to stay within twenty feet of me, too. That made our travel a little crowded, with people jostling each other as they tried to stay in range. I’m not a fan of being crowded, especially when nobody’s bathed enough to suit me, including me. Very much including me.

But it was just as well. If the naked lizard pack had attacked us while we were all spread out, things would have gotten even messier. As it was, three of them had jumped one of the archers and had him down in the dirt screaming as they swept at his body with their red-dripping fighting claws.

A reminder: you should not buy books with AI-generated covers.

Whether they be fiction books, or TTRPG supplements. You should be particularly disinclined to do that if they are not forthright about using AI prompts. Those people know perfectly well what they are doing.

No names because I don’t have confirmation. But if my suspicions are correct, then I am profoundly disappointed in the company in question. And it will certainly be a consideration when it comes to my future purchases.

Yeah, quiet day today.

A combination of my wife’s birthday and the need to get those edits done. I don’t know if I mentioned, but I should spend this weekend getting a do-not-publish draft set up so that I can calculate page count, and get that to the cover layout dude. We are on track for September! I may even have it for Fright Reads, although the MD Renn Festival will be trickier. Oh, well, we’ll see.

07/19/2024 Snippet, THE REAL THING.

I have a pretty good idea of how this is going to go now.

“Sounds fine to me.” I paused. “Ah… anything vile in those camps?”

“Nah. Or nothing that made me throw up,” Finglas replied. “No human bones in the stewpots, no black-glowing idols, none of that crap. The only skulls I saw were deer and pigs. Oh, and they got a dog-god around here, looks like. Saw a shrine or two in the camps.”

Nellas narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t…”

“Didn’t do nothing except light an incense stick at each one. Didn’t touch nothing, either.” Finglas snorted. “I ain’t some penchannas stripling, brother. You meet a god at the side of the road, you give it a friendly nod and leave it the hell alone.”

As it happened, we never had any trouble with the locals around Lost Atlanta, either coming or going. Maybe their dog-god liked the incense. Or maybe his worshipers just didn’t want any trouble.