The Ultimate James Bond Fan Book has been spotted in a Barnes & Noble in Colorado!
(I still haven’t seen it, due to Carnival Cruise Lines losing it twice and denying ever having it. The battle continues.)
UPDATE: It’s in Barnes & Noble nationally. I spotted it in West Nyack last night. So I have finally touched it. Happiness.
So this weekend I did two events at The Crystal Fox.
I drove from New Jersey to Annapolis on Friday night. It was a grueling trip. Only two hundred miles, but it took five and a half hours of miserable frickin traffic yuck.
But the hotel room was very nice.
I arrived at the Annapolis store rested and was warmly greeted by Spider and Dream. Everyone was friendly and the place was very nice. I taught The Structure of Spellcasting in the quick, one-hour version. It is HARD to squeeze that material into one hour. We ran over by about fifteen minutes and that still wasn’t enough. People were interested though, and it went well.
Then I strolled through the Annapolis mall, which was quite nice as malls go. I stared a lot at the many sailors in dress whites and thought “Fleet Week” until I realized I was not in New York but Annapolis, and there are always cadets in dress whites in Annapolis.
Sunday I arrived at the Laurel location for the next class. Same class, more people, bigger store. Really big store, actually, quite gorgeous and full of yummy Pagan goodies. Also nice air conditioning. After the class I did several readings and then drove home.
My back is killing me, but it was an excellent weekend. Sterling, Spider, Dream, and all the people I met were terrific.
Well I had an absolutely amazing time in the Bahamas. I saw sites that would make any self-respecting Bond fan drool in his shoes. (Which, not a pretty picture.)
I have a firm intention of writing it all up and making you drool. I do. But then other shit happened.
So first, my book didn’t arrive in time to bring on the cruise. So the printer shipped it to Carnival so that it would be there on arrival. I have the packing slip; it says “Deborah Lipp–Arriving 8/14/06”. Not a lot of margin for error there.
Only there was error.
So my box of books is sailing the seas, having been placed on some other ship. I haven’t seen it. No one got a copy. Carnival has “opened a file” for me. You betcher ass they have.
Meanwhile, this box is from the first printing. Second printing goes out in two weeks and I’m working 3–4 hours a night on indexing and final edits. The day job is unusually busy, the night work is keeping me up until 1 a.m. I’m too old for this shit. I haven’t turned on the TV since I got home.
And tomorrow I leave for my next gig.
So, sorry for the light blogging.
The British police thwarted a terror plot. Yay the British police.
U.S. airports are glowing a sickly orange color.
I’m flying to Miami at 9:30 tomorrow morning to meet up with my cruisin’ crew.
So now I’m totally stressed. Because I have to leave before 7 a.m. to get to the airport, so if the terror alert is still in place when I go to bed…? I don’t know either.
Oy.
(Cross-posting…fun for the whole family.)
Indexing.
What indexing involves is going through every page of a manuscript and deciding what goes in. Is this word/phrase interesting? Too obscure? Too obvious (thereby generating a zillion page hits and being utterly useless)? Do I need things in the Index that are also in the Table of Contents? Did I already index that word? Should I write it down again anyway just in case? Will a reader be annoyed to look up that word and turn to the page and realize it’s just an aside? Will a reader be annoyed to look up that word and not find it? Will a reader ever in a million years care about that phrase?
And there’s lots of laborious typing and my shoulder hurts.
I am indexing The Ultimate James Bond Fan Book right now. So if I don’t post much, please forgive me. Also, please feel sorry for me.
I go to quite a lot of festivals. Starwood is an annual event for me, and every June I’m forced to choose between two other favorites: Free Spirit and Wic-Can Fest. Over the years, I’ve attended many others, including Heartland, Rites of Spring, and Pagan Spirit Gathering.
In a very real way, festivals are how I mark my life.
In Bronze Age Ireland, the Pagan Celts gathered annually for a huge festival at Lughnasadh. Over the course of two weeks, contests were held (bardic, athletic, crafts), wares were sold, romances were begun, gossip was traded, and a sense of community was renewed for the coming year. In essence, this is what I feel modern Pagan festivals are. For all the workshops and classes and spiritual experiences, the essence, to me, is the establishment and renewal of community bonds.
I was 21 at my first festival. I got my first tattoo at Starwood. I met Isaac (my ex-husband) at Rites of Spring. I was pregnant at festivals, I nursed at festivals, and now I bring my teenager to festivals. It was at Starwood that I asked Isaac for a divorce. It was at Starwood that I had my first vision, and it was there that I injured my knee (twice).
It isn’t that what happens is good or bad. It’s that what happens is my life. Marked by the passage of seasons, and supported within the arms of my community. That’s festival.
I offer the following Starwood 2006 quotes without comment:
“Get your sleeve out of my grog.”
“The Cosmopolitan in my crotch was also your fault!”
“You hardly ever see a bar full of pirates.”
“I’m not hiking all the way down to the Time Machine.”
“Don’t quote me on anything. My ass is really wet and I’m tired.”
“Giant sky-enflaming fireballs.”
“Thank God for that man in the boa!”
“I’m so tired of seeing penises.”
“Undies on the table are right out!”
“Help me adjust my loincloth.”
“I’m not speaking after sundown, I’m just making cat noises.”
“After enough Starwood, women in clothes look sexy.”
400-plus miles. Set up camp. 90 degree heat. Sun poisoning. Dress Like a Pirate Night. Viking attacks. Pool. Workshops. Sarongs. Rain. More rain. Break camp. 400-plus miles. Pet cat. Open mail. Where’s my Netflix?
Later.
Tomorrow morning, at the crack of crack, I’m leaving for Starwood. I’m going Om.
I’ve been going to this festival since 1982 (they started it in 1991). I missed 1996 and 1998 and that’s it. So for me it really is home. Every now and then I think I won’t go. The drive is a pain in the ass. It’s a week I could spend doing other vacationy things. And it might be that some year I won’t go. But I feel like I live my life by moving in and out of that space, and there’d be a hole if I skipped a year.
Anyway, Tom will be doing the honorable guest blogging. Give him a big hand!
