Engine Dreamer by Siri Paulson
Gears in space--what could be better?
The Dangers of Creation; or, A Machine to Rival Man by Siri Paulson
Househunting is a pain in the backside. Every time I move, I want it to be the last time (until I hit the NYT Bestseller List and/or win the lottery, so I can move without worrying, anyway.) So finding a forever home that I can afford? Not so easy to do.
When I moved into the house before my current one with my then-roommate, I loved the house. It had a fenced yard for the kid and the dog! It had a dishwasher! It was all tile, so it would be easy to clean. Managed by a professional company instead of a very nice but not particularly stable man who took in every homeless cat ever but was completely ineffectual about fixing anything.
Last year around Thanksgiving, I wrote about how grateful I was for my family. It is hard putting into words how amazing they are, but I tried.
Today I will try again. I'd like to talk about my husband, who, when I talk about him online, I call "my beloved." It started out as a way to keep my personal details private, but it has now grown into an actual name I call him.
The other day, someone asked me about how I came up with the title for Shards (urban fantasy, coming out on Dec 1) and it took me back to the early days of working on the novel, which, to be honest, I haven't thought about in a long time.
Shards started as a dream. Occasionally I have really vivid dreams, and when I realize I'm dreaming, I start to structure the dream into a story. Shards was one of those, though more complete--and more coherent--than most when I woke up. In those days, I kept a notebook by the side of my bed, and I scribbled down everything I could remember--about the characters, the plot, the world.
And then I lost the notebook.