…has taken place entirely in the Portland airport, as my flight has been delayed to the extent that it is now scheduled to take off when it was supposed to arrive. AWESOME.
Further bulletins as events warrant.
A book by Sara Ryan
…has taken place entirely in the Portland airport, as my flight has been delayed to the extent that it is now scheduled to take off when it was supposed to arrive. AWESOME.
Further bulletins as events warrant.
In case not all y’all follow the comments on the WordPress side, I must point you to this macro’ed version of one of the most recent Snag photos, lolified by the esteemed Jeff Parker.
Snag ignores his water dish, no matter how recently we’ve filled it, in favor of this:




So far he hasn’t figured out how to turn on the tap by himself, but it’s only a matter of time.
Harry Potter and the Last Gasp of Youth
Inara Verzemnieks has written one of the more thoughtful and heartfelt HP articles I’ve seen — and I’m not just saying that because spinooti and Deborah and I were quoted.
I’m one of those people who, when going to a restaurant that I’ve been to before, almost always orders whatever I had the last time I was there. If it’s Cup and Saucer, it will be the World Famous Garden Scramble with seasoned tofu, no cheese, and a scone. When I think about that restaurant, I’m already remembering what that particular meal tastes like, and how delicious it was last time. I am, in other words, setting myself up for repeating that experience as closely as possible.
But what if the cook at Cup and Saucer has something else to show me, breakfast-wise? What if I’d like it even better than my current standby? How am I going to know, if I never branch out?
I think for a lot of us, sequels and series are like That One Thing We Always Get at restaurants. We latch onto something in a book — a character, a setting, the rhythm of the writer’s prose, the way magic works or doesn’t. And then we want to experience it again. And again.
I totally get that, as a reader. (And, clearly, as a diner.)
But as a writer, I want to mix it up. I want to tell different kinds of stories in different ways. And yes, I also want to write new stories where characters I’ve already created show up — but maybe not in the ways, or the roles, that readers were expecting.
Which is a long setup for me to say two things: first, that I’m so grateful to the readers who’ve been willing to order The Rules for Hearts, even though I didn’t make the same dish that you enjoyed last time, and second, that as interested as I am — along with much of the rest of the world — in what happens to Harry & Co., I’m even more interested to see what Ms. Rowling writes next.
Y’all: what writers do you like who work in different genres/styles/etc.?

Confetti in weeds, underwater. From the Mississippi Street Fair which I did not attend.

Auto repair. You can see the building across the street reflected, if you look closely.

I mistitled this in Flickr, I now realize. They offer not everything but everythng.
Why am I such a sucker for this stuff?
Possibly more relevant considering the time I am posting this: why did I think it was a good idea to have three espresso drinks today?

Never let it be said that I fear public humiliation. This was taken after one of the two performances of “Intimate Acquaintances,” one of Pioneer High School’s Student Productions in the year of our Lord 1988. I’m the second from the left. Also in the picture are the friends who became a fourth grade teacher, a lexicographer, and an NPR reporter. But see how considerate I am, not including any links to them?
If y’all want to share embarrassing old photos in the comments, that would be so awesome!