I was asked for an update on release dates.
At the moment, the only pending releases are Furiously Familiar (March 10 [touches wood]), and “Familiar Sorrows,” (late April). I’ve got about a third of Greatly (Or something G) Familiar written, and started Horribly Familiar. I’ve also started the fantasy based on pre-historic South Asia. If you look at the series pages, you will see that I pushed the next Merchant and Empire book to this coming fall. I need a block of uninterrupted time to write those, and spring . . . is not that time. I have not started Hopling Tales, which will be the folk-lore of Shikhari. A couple of unrelated dragon-centered stories are lurking around the edges, and might get turned into a second volume of Four Dragon Tales. Or they might go galloping off on their own and become books. I’m just the author, they never tell me what they are going to do.
I keep underestimating how frenetic February and March are at Day Job. This is when preparation for events shifts from athletics to academics and music, which involves a much larger percentage of the school at any given time. Yes, in my odd world, academic contests overshadow sports, and carry more hallway cred’ (to mangle the poor phrase). To give you a sense of how much this is true, over half the students participate in Latin contests. Yes, the dead language. Over half. Six grade levels. Add in separate science, math, other math, engineering, and what-have-you contests, and you can see why those of us who sponsor activities get twitchy. (This is true of the public schools as well, although far fewer students proportionally compete in academics versus sports. They get to deal with standardized testing on top of everything else, just to make it worse.)
Oh, and Beethoven. May is all Beethoven, either rehearsing, advertising, rehearsing, studying, or performing. This has turned into a major regional musical event, with all that implies for the musicians involved.
Random thoughts: Some things only make sense “at home.” A delivery man was unloading boxes in the office as the secretary (Mrs. Omnisapientia) directed a student to the proper destination. The student asked, “Don’t I go to Mr. Long-Slavic-Last-Name’s class today?”
Mrs. O: No, we switched this week. Today is Wednesday. Yesterday was Thursday, so go to Mrs. Curtains’ room. [Mrs. Curtains is the drama teacher.]
Student: OK, that makes sense, thank you!
Delivery Dude [speaking to the air at large]: I am so confused. [exits stage left, not pursued by a bear]
Other random thought: A priest, a minister, and a rabbit walked into a bar. The rabbit looked around, and said, “I think I’m a typo.”