Someday I'll make it right

I'm realizing how tired I really am. I have not been in good health since April, but I really crashed in June when I lost a month's access to my doctors but more importantly my regular medications and I have just not yet recovered. I'm tired when I spend the day running around. I'm tired when I don't leave the apartment. I can get wiped out by an errand to the post office or the library. I have watched almost no movies this month and it is weighing heavily on me that I haven't written about any for my Patreon—I don't want to shortchange my patrons—but just getting my work done day after day has been leaving my brain feeling like a wet slate. Everything feels like a responsibility. I am not complaining that Readercon went as well as it did, but I think it may have been done entirely with adrenaline and mirrors. I can't even calculate how much I didn't sleep this month.

Forget the Sleepless Shores has now acquired several extraordinarily complimentary blurbs which I am looking forward to having attached to the book itself, the physical object which I am also looking forward to. I am working on putting a website together before the street date which is now less than two weeks away. Then it will be in the wild and that should be fascinating.

Our cats remain good cats. Hestia earlier squiggled underneath the drawers of my desk like a ferret; I have no idea what she was hunting or if she caught it, but she emerged finely coated with dust bunnies and looking pleased with herself. Autolycus has been hanging out on his favorite stack of boxes, dangling his long arms like some kind of Anansi-kitten:



Our eldritch cat.