So last Thursday was the Gollancz party, sort of a Halloween bash, where the male authors turned up in unfancy dress - with the blazing exception of Emperor Steve-Deas-Ming the Merciless - and the ladies looked gothically gorgeous. There were new authors to be introduced to us, but for me it was mainly about catching up with old friends - there were several people I've known for 14 or 15 years, among agents and editors as well as fellow writers. For me as a full-timer, such events have assumed a greater importance than they used to. A jolly fine time was had by all.
The lack of recent blogs is because of my big push to finish the first draft of Transmission - all quarter million words of it - which I managed the night before the party. Whew. I'm expecting the copy-edited Point soon, for final tweaks.
Point treads on new ground, as you can see from the cover.
And for anyone who's attending Bristolcon, where one of my panels is "Writing the Fight Scene", I gained permission from Mrs Abercrombie to beat up her husband by way of a demo. Joe's way taller than I am, so clearly the moral high ground is mine...