Not to mention picking up yet another sexy round of prescriptions in an attempt to make my post-viral breathing tube look less like this:
So I’m taking a pass on a page this week, which drives me nuts but seems responsible.
But, here we are, a new set of notes for pages 130-140! I really went kind of insane this time, trying to explain both wigs and early Protestant theology. I know that you have had burning questions about these things for a very long time. Consider them answered.
Ah yes! Time to remind everybody that I will be at MoCCA in New York this June 6 & 7! I’ll be exhibiting with (and courtesy of!) the dreadfully fantastic Klio, she who brings you SPQR Blues. Together we will be historytastic.
I’ll be there with some of the remaining stock of Bite Me! . Also with prints and buttons and stickers and whatever else I can cram into the suitcase that hasn’t sold out yet.
More news as we get closer to the show. In the meantime, more books go out in the mail every few days! It’s fun to watch the stack get skinnier. Had a bit of a bottleneck with the button packs (those little bastards are time-consuming), but that’s on the mend, so a big chunk more of the deluxe packages will be going out soon.
And now, back to your regularly scheduled pony.
Feeling ever-so-slightly more human today. Last night the ladyfriend brought me a bouquet of lovely little purple lilies (perfect for my funeral!), topped off with the most artistic bouquet twig I have ever seen.
It is a long, meandering, and graceful twig. It has a sort of Japanese elegance to it. It forms a perfect counterpoint to the more stately lines of the lilies. And, this morning, as I awoke from my cold medication haze, it was poking towards my pillow as if with tender concern.
“How are you feeling this morning?” the Artistic Twig seemed to inquire. “Shall I call off the lilies and tell them not to expect to be thrown onto your casket?”
That is correct, Artistic Twig. You can stick around.
No pun intended.
SO. While I am still wearing socks and coughing up things of an exotic hue and consistency, today I’ll be coloring a page of Family Man and addressing and stuffing orders that have a time crunch on them.
Probably while Azumanga Daioh (still the only anime show I’ve gotten attached to) blares away on the television, because it never fails to be both soothing and peppy:
Fancy hearing cake indeed, ladies. Fancy hearing cake, indeed.
As a postscript to today’s poem: I’m been fighting off a wily and rapidly mutating virus which has been plaguing me since bloody Easter. It’s finally decided to just render me totally useless with fatigue and fever.
I very much want to start mailing out books, especially since a number of you will be heading home from college and will thus have a change of address in a week or so. But I’m also my only employee at the moment, and I’m not in shape to execute a massive mailing effort. Also I would be coughing all over the wares, and the thought of any of you inadvertently contracting this nonsense is not a fond one.
So I’m going to try not to anger my loved ones by wearing myself out even more and prolonging this dreaded illness. I’ll start mailing out in a couple of days.
And now I’m going to go back to bed, where I am going to take nyquil and ibuprofen and albuterol and drink a lot of tea and fade in and out of consciousness until this is all over.
And we’re back to updates! Thank Christmas, I was getting very tired of Wednesdays without tormenting Luther. Or, really, without tormenting everybody in this story in differing measure; but readers probably most of all.
I am striving to finish this chapter soon so that I can decide how to go about getting Volume I of Family Man available in print.
And speaking of dead tree editions, in case one of you has been studiously ignoring me this past week: Bite Me! is now available in book form! Hurray! I no longer have a dayjob, so your support – in the form of advertising on the sparkly new Bite Me site or buying your own Super Special copy of the book – means scads to me.