Category: Chatter

(This post went to Patronizers at the beginning of September, and the public at the beginning of October.)

While “See the Sausage Being Made” is an accurate description for the $1/month Patronizer level, I’ve been pondering renaming it “Give Lucas Money Just For Still Being Alive.” Because that’s kind of what it feels like over here.

Hi, folks. August was dominated by an exploding air conditioner, the Apocalypse Moi Kickstarter, and the writing grind.

The old air conditioner was installed in 1994 and featured some interesting design decisions. My home has boiler heat, so the AC is all Spacepak-style small ductwork. When you need to get ductwork around a corner you can either cut the duct and install a 90-degree joint, or–bear with me here–you can beat on the duct with a hammer until it bends to more or less the shape you want. The electrical was wired directly into the meter, without circuit breakers. The coolant had leaked over the years, and replacement coolant was several hundred dollars a pound. We needed three pounds. Oh, and the coolant pipes were likely to blow if we fully pressurized the system.

Average lifespan on that system, if properly installed, was about fifteen years. We were fourteen years past that.

So we now have new AC. The emergency fund we’ve built over the last decade is basically wiped out, but that’s okay. That’s what it’s for. We didn’t have to borrow money, so we win.

The Apocalypse Moi Kickstarter worked well. I asked for $500, and it closed out at $2741. If I had managed to sell a collection to a trad publisher, I would have been lucky to get $2000. My back-of-the-envelope math says I’ll spend roughly a grand on fulfillment, but I won’t have to waste time and energy negotiating with a publisher, so I’m content.

The good news is that I’ve worked out a way to reduce the mental overhead of marketing Kickstarters. Shilling my own work is horrid, so I shilled this one by shilling other people’s apocalyptic art. My marketing is all Facebook and Fediverse/Mastodon these days, but if you search either one for the hashtag #30DaysOfDoom you’ll find a whole bunch of my favorite apocalypses and dooms. (Fun fact–did you know that George Miller never made a first Mad Max movie? Strange but true!)

I got invited to contribute to another Christmas anthology last month. Wrote that, sent it in. If they buy it, you’ll get to read it in December. That also gives me enough Christmas stories to release a collection. I’ll be Kickstarting Harm for the Holidays next summer.

Young Lucas would have never believed this. The narrowminded idiot.

The Christmas story invite soaked up my fiction writing time, which pushed off the Prohibition Orcs baseball story I need to finish for last year’s Kickstarter backers.

After hunting up some missing parts and making some tweaks, the Writing Chariot I discussed last month seems to be working. I have one keyboard on my desk and another at my hips. The desk keyboard gets used for mouse-heavy work, like balancing the credit card statement and doing page layouts. The hip keyboard is for making words. I’m not entirely satisfied with the Chariot yet, but my arms and shoulders are far more relaxed when I use it.

Or, in short: the damn thing works. I think I can do better. Even as it is, it will extend my writing life. Yes, I’m at the age where I consider matters based on how much longer I expect to live. Still shooting to get that “100 Books” award before I keel over.

Work on Run Your Own Mail Server grinds forward. I’m writing about debugging IMAP by hand. This book is very much turning into “How Lucas Deploys an Unfamiliar Service,” but at least the Star Wars motif is holding up.

The Detroit summer is waning, so I took a couple days to do some fun things. We also had some lovely storms, water in the basement, power outages, and visits from Valkyries, but I managed to keep plowing through the words anyway.

I try to give longer Sausage posts than this, but that’s really all the news. Words. More words. Still more words.

I hereby declare that I will get the dang orc baseball story finished before October, by the way. Hold me to that.

Take care, everyone.

I have never owned a cat. I have never lived with a cat. It’s not that I mind cats, but rats fit my life better. For a few years though, a cat seriously impacted my life.

That tab at the top of my site that says Autobiography? Sometimes I publish true stories there. There’s a new story up there, about the aforementioned cat, the never-experienced delights of goat on a stick, and mouse compost. While the names have been changed so Larry the Leg-Breaker doesn’t get tetchy with me, the facts are one hundred percent accurate.

I’ve been experimenting more with audio and video, thinking it might draw in some new readers. That’s why I have the 60 Seconds of WIP podcast. Kickstarter doesn’t require videos, unless you want to succeed. There’s videos of me reading things where I’m happy to get two or three views. And there’s the playlist of my various public presentations.

I don’t normally check the number of views on these things. Like the number of books I sold this week, it doesn’t matter. This thing I did has been launched into the world, and whether it lives or dies is now up to y’all. Like Mickey Spillane said (in paraphrase, because I can’t be bothered to go look up the actual quote): “I don’t have fans. You know what I got? Customers.”

On a whim, I uploaded a video of my pet rats working their treat puzzle. According to Youtube’s analytics, it has 53,568 views in five days.

Glancing over my public talks playlist, I’m lucky to get 3,000 views over years.

When I work hard on something? Crickets. When I just slam something up there, though, the world comes. That’s how the world works.

I’ve been skimming the Youtube comments and deleting the mean ones, and noticed readers popping up with comments like Lucas is a big-name author, and this is the video that gets attention? Go read his books! I’ve gotten a couple emails telling me this is unfair.

I appreciate that people love my books and want to support my craft. I truly do, from the bottom of my musty labyrinthine heart.

This video exploding does not disturb me. Fairness is a human construct.

I launched something into the world, and it did well? That’s nice, but I’m working on the next thing.

Besides, those squeaky little bastards are far cuter than I am. The audience for cute animal videos is much vaster than the audience for Networking for Systems Administrators. I might read some of my work to them, however.

I am not about to go chasing youtube views. When I get a new puzzle, I might upload a video of that. Or not. Depends.

I have been told that my guys are “smol” and “chonk.” Whatever that means.

53,650 views now. 920.6 hours spent listening to rats munch their hard-won toddler puffs. 38 nonstop person/days, or 114 work days, is an impressive amount of productivity to suck out of the world.

Anyway. I gotta go work on the next Thing.

(This post went to Patronizers at the beginning of August, and the public at the beginning of September.)

The most exciting thing this month is probably the Writing Chariot.

I have written at a standing desk since about 2010. I find it much more sustainable than a standard desk, and it lets me pace more easily when my brain logjams. I have no idea when I started using split keyboards, but it’s been many years. Split keyboards let me open my shoulders naturally and keep my wrists straight, which relieves a great deal of my tendinitis and my mild-but-annoying nerve damage.

Ideally, though, I would write with my arms hanging limp at my sides. I’ve been contemplating some sort of belt arrangement where I could wear keyboards at my hips, gunslinger-style. I don’t have experience working with cloth, however, and stabilizing the keyboards is an obvious challenge. I discussed the issue with my father-in-law, and he promptly whipped up this… thing.

I attach each half of the keyboard to one of the arms and stand between them. In theory, my hands can dangle at my sides as I type. It’s not exactly neutral position, but it’s pretty close. The arms can be adjusted up and down, and there’s a peg to hold them in place. I’m not using the Writing Chariot yet—it needs another adjustment, so I need a second person to drill the hole. But my initial tests show that it’s usable. Time will tell if it fubars my shoulders even further, or if it relieves the stress. If this doesn’t work, the next step is the Keyboard Gunslinger.

In other excitement, my next Kickstarter is live. Apocalypse Moi is a collection of my short fiction, all with the theme of “doom.” The video features my missus, She Who Must Be Obeyed, as well as the inimitable Zig Zag Claybourne. Many of you will get the book for free as a Patronizer benefit. There is no need for you to back the Kickstarter. As you might guess, though, I’d still appreciate if you told folks that they should back it.

Before you ask: no, this book doesn’t have a leather-cased edition. The cased Prohibition Orcs did well, but the cased Devotion and Corrosion, not so much. More than one person told me that they were not allowed to buy two $200 books from me in the same year, and I can’t blame them. This will be my last fiction Kickstarter for 2023, I’m sure, and it will clean up my short story inventory. This has already changed the cash flow of running a Kickstarter, though. Prohibition Orcs funded in under fifteen minutes, because two folks bought leather-cased editions. That money was, in some ways, bogus. The leather cases bring in the most revenue, but they’re also the most expensive to fulfill. Apocalypse Moi took about ten hours to fund, but the profit/expense ratio is better.

Previous Kickstarters demanded excessive mental energy, because I loathe asking for money. Even with you folks, I’ve taken pains to declare that the Patronizer program is a terrible deal. This time, I’m trying a few techniques to lessen the mental load. First, there are no complicated rewards. I’ll deliver ebooks, order books from printer, and ship signed books—done. Second, with every promotional post I’m including a link to my free stuff. Balancing asking for money with an offer of freebies relieves some of my discomfort. Last, I’ve figured out a theme for my promotion. This is an apocalypse-themed collection, so I’m doing a “Thirty Days of Doom” social media promotion. It’s much easier for me to say “here’s this cool doomsday some other artist created, and by the way please support my little apocalypses” than to come up with a naked plea for money every day. Look for the hashtag #30DaysOfDoom on Facebook and the Fediverse.

I had hoped to have Run Your Own Mail Server finished by now. That’s obviously not happening. Once Apocalypse Moi arrives, I will bundle it up with Devotion and Corrosion and ship to print-level Patronizers. I probably need to ship fiction on its own, rather than bundling with tech books. In theory, tech books should not take this long to write—but they do, dammit.

A couple folks asked about my decision to publish short stories only on my website. Years ago, I said that I could publish a short story and make a few hundred bucks pretty quickly. Last month, I said that short stories are not worth my time to publish. These are contradictory, but only because they’re separated by time. My short story buyers are overwhelmingly my Patronizers. The stories are included in your so-called “rewards.” I traded those occasional bursts of cash for a steady trickle of income, and I thank you for it.

The flunky I hired to polish my web site is working out so far. I’m kind of surprised, but only because I always expect everything to fail unpredictably. He’s just under the $600 “I have to file tax paperwork on you” limit, so before long we’ll have to discuss if he wants to continue or not.

Run Your Own Mail Server is coming along, generally several hundred words a day. This is the most difficult book I’ve ever written. I’d say “the next book will be easier,” except I know better than to promise myself that. They make nipple clamps for people like me. But today I’m writing about SPF and MX records, so the book has achieved “functioning mail server!” (Of course, you can’t tell people to mail you at that domain yet. There’s no spam protection, you’ll drown.) Once I get these basics down, though, it’s basically “configure rspamd” and the related DNS records for DKIM and DMARC, plus a DMARC aggregator. Oh, and postfixadmin. I have to configure things the hard way before setting up postfixadmin, though, because without that understanding you can’t troubleshoot failures. But still, most of that is either straightforward procedure or small concepts that aren’t tightly integrated with the rest of the ecosystem. You can run email without DMARC or DKIM. Nobody will accept your messages, but you can run it.

Anyway, I’ve got to get to work. The Writing Chariot isn’t going to adjust itself.

This post goes to Patronizers at the beginning of July, and the public at the beginning of August.

Once upon a time, I owned a Chevrolet SSR hard-top convertible. It retailed for fifty thousand dollars in 2005, back when that was real money. No, I didn’t buy it. I won it at a $500/plate charity auction. That I got into for free.

It was a fantastic car. It devoured road. The sound system stunned drivers on the opposite side of the divided highway. Over the fifteen years we owned it, three women and one men ran up to me at stop lights to give me their phone number. Not that I called any of them. Even if I wasn’t happily married, anyone who wanted to hang out with me because I drove an expensive car would find themselves disappointed in every other aspect of my life.

When I had a real job that required my presence on site, I would drive that car one day a week. If I had a day where I ran errands after work and needed to drive extra, I chose that day. Now that I’m directly employed by all y’all I leave the house to go to Costco, my monthly writers’ meeting, the dojo, and BSDCan. Costco is about a four mile trip, maybe once or twice a month. The writer’s meeting, once a month. I drove the convertible to those whenever possible. I had no trouble taking the convertible to the dojo, but I sure wouldn’t let my stinky sticky self back in the car afterwards, so that was a no. Driving it to BSDCan was fun.

Here in Detroit, I could use the car five or six months out of the year. That’s thirteen trips, most of them only a few miles and one over a thousand miles.

I put the car up for sale in 2019, and it sold in January.  I was paid in 2020 dollars, sadly. The pandemic hit immediately afterwards, so we put the money in the bank and waited for the next debacle.

This June, our home air conditioning stopped working.

The HVAC mechanic came out and informed us that the system was thirty years old and had been incompetently installed. Hearing that from a service mechanic is an extraordinary claim, and requires extraordinary proof. He provided it, with details like “the interior unit draws power from the electric meter, not the breaker box” and “the reason your bedroom is warm is because rather than put an angle connector in the ductwork, the installer bent it with a hammer.” It’s not that the 1990s coolant this thing used was illegal, but it’s now expensive enough to discourage using it. If we replaced the pipe that blew and recharged the system, one of the others would probably blow.

The lifespan on a modern AC unit? About fifteen years.

How much for a new AC?

Almost exactly what we made selling the convertible.

One of the annoying things about this business is that borrowing money is difficult. The United States runs on credit. I firmly believe in paying cash or doing without, and I don’t mind heat if I can open the windows, but the wildfires get worse each year. I’m not sure if the high particulates give me asthma, or if my lungs are still inflamed from covid, but air conditioning is now mandatory. The HVAC company claims they offer easy financing, but one look at my employer and they’d dial the interest up to “loan shark.” My family needs to pay cash or do without.

I don’t mind living on a cash basis.

I do mind not having options.

We now have air conditioning, and I’ll spend the next year or two replenishing the emergency fund. It’s okay. That’s what emergency funds are for.

And writing is for replenishing that fund.

Run Your Own Mail Server is congealing. The topic requires more up-front explanation than usual, with walking the reader through the basics of forging email and sending spam and exactly why email is a very special trash fire.         I keep thinking I’m going to buckle down and pound through these words, but illustrating every step feels like dragging a moose through quicksand and explaining anything requires explaining another topic first. I must disassemble every topic and put the pieces in a meticulous order. That order is achievable, yes, but the reader doesn’t immediately gain anything from that background. I’m pulling every trick I know to make the text pleasant to read, even if the reader doesn’t get the constant slow dopamine hit of technological epiphany. (Some of you will get that hit from the text. You are nerdier than most. Congratulations.)

I took half a day and released a new Prohibition Orcs short story. Yellow-Eyed War is exclusive to my web site for a couple reasons. Yes, disintermediation is one; I prefer people buy direct from me. But it would take me about five hours to upload this tale to every single distribution channel, and I’m not going to make enough on the story to pay that back. So I’m trying exclusivity. We’ll see how well that works. Many of you got this story as part of your Patronizer benefits, so the sales channels is irrelevant.

That leaves the question of what to do with chapbooks, however. (A chapbook is a print edition of a short story or tiny novella.) I put short stories in print to make the ebook versions look inexpensive. (That’s the same reason I offer tech books in hardcover.) I would sell one or two of them to hard-core collectors, but most of the sales were electronic. Of the chapbooks, most of them went to print-level Patronizers.

Additionally, I put stories in print so I can test different fonts, layouts, and other formatting options. I’ll keep designing chapbooks and shipping them to print-level Patronizers, but I suspect that Patronizing is the only way folks will be able to get them. I want to reduce my administrative overhead, and managing yet more stuff in IngramSpark and Amazon’s print program when there’s almost no sales is pure overhead.

Speaking of adding administrative overhead: I seem to be starting the world’s lamest podcast. 60 Seconds of WIP has one guest, me. I read sixty seconds of a current Work-In-Progress, such as RYOMS. It was Allan Jude’s idea, so please direct any blame his way. I got recording and posting each down to less than five minutes, so I’ll probably do one a week for a while and see if anyone cares. This week I’m switching to audio-only, and perhaps sending them into the various podcast distributors instead of just my blog.

Thank you all for your support. I sincerely appreciate it.

Folks seem to appreciate the “60 Seconds of WIP” tracks, so I’m planning to record more and distribute them more widely. That means I need to set up my site more properly. It’s a straightforward task, but I’ll need to test integration with the blog’s RSS feed.

Unfortunately, if I post podcasts in a blog category I can’t distribute them to other vendors. Podcast RSS feeds require additional metadata. The WordPress software for doing so assumes that your podcast is its own thing, separate from any blog. I need to create the podcast and its feed, and then aggregate that feed into my main blog. Accomplishing that means recording a couple more episodes and experimenting with assorted plugins.

So you might notice some instability with my blog’s RSS feed as I figure this out. I will try to hold it to a dull roar.

Fortunately my subscribers are technically literate, and I’m certain you all have their RSS readers set to check my feed every day or so rather than every fifteen minutes. If you catch posts appearing and disappearing while I sort this out, maybe check your reader’s settings?

I’ve been reading Asimov’s Science Fiction for decades. Back when I still had hope and hair, I dreamed of being published therein. I no longer submit to slushpiles, but almost every issue I discover a meatspace friend in its table of contents.

Maybe ten years ago, I switched my subscription from paper to electronic via Amazon. I do all of my fiction reading on a backlit e-ink device. E-ink is a much better reading experience than a screen, especially for us voracious readers. I don’t want the print edition; not only is the font size not adjustable, I’m stuck with a stack of paper. (I still read a lot of nonfiction in paper, especially if I want to highlight and make marginalia and leave bookmarks everywhere.)

Amazon’s Kindle program has stopped supporting magazine subscriptions. Many magazines have been shoved into Kindle Unlimited. (There’s discussion that the individual issues will only be available through KU, not for regular purchase, but I’m having difficulty confirming that.) Neil Clarke has an excellent discussion of how this might put several magazines out of business.

Today, I looked for a way to continue my Asimov’s subscription electronically. In addition to KU, Asimov’s is available through Barnes & Noble and Magzter. Magzter is a tablet app that uses a proprietary format, and not suitable for an e-ink device. B&N does epubs, but I’d have to either purchase and carry around a whole new device or strip the DRM to move it to my current device.

Penny Publications, Asimov’s publisher, does not have a direct electronic subscription option or even a “buy this issue in ebook” option. If a doofus like me can manage it, surely Penny Publications could.

So I guess I’ll be picking up the odd issue of my favorite magazine when I think of it. If that’s still an option.

Why did Amazon stop supporting subscriptions? To force subscribers to sign up for Kindle Unlimited, and to pay magazines less for their content. Amazon has recently made several changes that make them less friendly to readers and publishers alike. While I have chosen to reject their electronic publishing deal for new nonfiction titles, I don’t condemn other publishers for succumbing. Amazon has monopoly and monopsony power. The magazine has decided that they’d rather take a fifty percent reduction in income than lose everything. I’m certain I’ve lost money by not having OpenBSD Mastery: Filesystems available in the Kindle store, and I will lose still more by not having Run Your Own Mail Server in there–but the alternative is unacceptable. Amazon’s goal is to reduce the price of writing to almost nothing, and will continue increasing the pressure on creators until we capitulate or leave.

I encourage you to buy direct from authors and/or publishers whenever possible (cough)my store(cough).

And when this device dies I’m buying a Kobo. They don’t carry Asimov’s either, but they’re much more friendly to sideloaded content and understand that their customers want to read.

(This post went to Patronizers at the beginning of June, and the public at the beginning of July.)

Hi folks!

BSDCan dominated this month. It was good. It wasn’t the biggest con we’ve had, but for the first year back it was nice. A handful of folks said they wouldn’t attend because the pandemic is still raging, and that while we would be masked the rest of the world isn’t. I can’t blame them. A couple of random folks on the Internet complained to me that they wouldn’t attend because we had a mask policy, but I didn’t recognize the names as attendees so who cares? If you didn’t know, I’m taking over coordinating BSDCan next year. I plan to do as little as possible, shoving everything off onto a team of volunteers.

That leads into my next change:

My writing business is hiring help. Part-time help, but help.

Every title I publish adds administrative overhead. That overhead usually isn’t terrible, except when something changes and I must touch every title. The Mastery books have been $25 since 2011, and I can’t absorb any more inflation and meet my bills. My printers have increased their prices again, so I spent four days going through Amazon and Ingram’s web interfaces to increase retail prices. I spent a few days last week fighting a bot network registering useless accounts on my web store. It’s not that those accounts could do anything, but the constant registrations slow everything down. Then there’s the improvements I want to make to the web site, and the corrections to what’s already there. This time adds up, keeping me from achieving the flow state so critical to creative work.

I can do everything in my publishing business. That’s why it’s part of my publishing business, because I can do it. I forced myself to sit down and take a good hard look at the things I spend my time on, in order of importance.

Writing
Publishing
Business and money
Marketing
Dealing with retailers
Web site

Of those tasks, which do I hate the most? Obviously, the money. I have everything set up so that I can handle paying my bills and reconciling my receipts in a couple hours a month, provided I do so every single month without fail, so the pain is minimized. Dealing with money is the last task a business owner can outsource, however. Can’t ditch that.

Publishing? I can hire help for that, sure. It’s expensive for what you get. I know perfectly well that transforming a correctly formatted tech book manuscript into an ebook is an hour’s work. I allocate two hours to it, because ebook formatting exposes every formatting flaw in the source manuscript. I don’t do that kind of work that often. The work I do more often resembles the price changes, where I log into retailer portals and make adjustments. Most retailers offer small publishers a single account with all privileges. I have no problem sharing that access with someone I completely trust, but that trust has to be earned. I’m not going onto fiverr and picking up a random publishing assistant. That’s like hiring the itinerant laborers loitering in front of the home improvement store to polish your diamond collection.

Marketing? I loathe marketing. Marketing is about voice, a combination of attitudes and opinions and word choice and syntax. While any number of people can and do use my “I loathe marketing” approach to marketing, they can’t do it exactly as I do. I must be involved in marketing. Outsourced marketing assistants can reuse and repackage marketing content I’ve previously created, but can’t reliably generate new content without extensive coaching and interaction.

Writing? That’s why I’m in this business. ChatGPT can bite my nearly-nonexistent butt.

That leaves the web site.

Outsourcing web site maintenance feels wrong. I’m a techie. I can maintain a web site, especially on WordPress. WordPress is the easiest possible way to maintain the technical parts of a web site. But my web site has an entry for each of my dozens and dozens of books, and each entry has a dozen links to various retailers. There’s my web store, which is an entirely separate site. The technology now exists for me to offer touchless print/ebook bundles, but it requires I once again touch every single title and configure plugins.

The thing is, I bring nothing special to the web site. Sure, I write the blog posts and the jacket copy for the books. But as far as fixing the front page cover image gallery and updating plugins and figuring out how to block all registrations from spam domains (Ban Hammer is the bomb, by the way), I bring nothing special.

Will I lose geek cred by handing my web site off to an hourly aide? Nah. I am not known as a web site designer, and I still run the underlying operating system. I’m not outsourcing mail or DNS or even httpd.conf; just the WordPress pointy-clicky-linky stuff. My new flunky, Soma, actually likes running web sites. (I don’t get it, but there’s folks out there who like durian so he’s basically normal.)

Hiring people is like everything else: the first time it’s a Big Deal, but eventually it becomes routine. I have hired and fired while working for a company, but never on my own. This is unnerving. While we have a written contractor agreement and have agreed on a scope of work, I’m proceeding slowly. Many of the links on my web site are incorrect or flat-out missing, so he’s starting with those. If he survives that tedium, I’ll get him to fix up the rest of the site, then tune up the ecommerce site. That would let me do things like making my short stories exclusive to my site.

For an employee to work in the long term, it has to work for both myself and him. Here in the US, I can pay someone $599 before filing tax paperwork in their name. We’re going to meet just before we hit that limit and talk things through. I would rather let him go at $599 and remain friendly than pay him $650, let him go, and screw him on taxes. That would be not merely rude but downright uncivilized. (Yes, taxes are civilization. So is minimizing them.)

If Soma works out the way I hope he does, I might start a daily one-minute podcast containing whatever I’ve written that day. I’d post the recording on my blog, and feed it to the various aggregators. But that’s a future possibility. Right now, I’m fiercely protecting every writing minute.

The plus side to all of this? Hiring someone is a new business experience. I’m making notes on it. In a few years, they’ll feed into a second edition of Cash Flow for Creators. I deliberately wrote that book to be evergreen, blissfully ignoring the fact that I would foolishly continue to learn business.

If I really wanted to jump deep into this business: many universities offer degrees in publishing. Starting pay in publishing in Detroit is somewhere around $40k, which would cost me about $50k including taxes and insurance and all that. It would be a serious hit for me, but doable. I could spend the next year polishing some bright young thing into my personal publisher, turn the whole mess over to them, and focus on writing. I’d eventually give us both a raise. I’m not that ambitious yet. Mind you—if I have to transform some bring young thing into being a publisher, I’m not sure them having a degree in publishing would be a prerequisite?

Other news? Going to BSDCan has knocked some things loose on my current writing projects. There’s nothing for contemplation like a long drive across the Ontario beautiful desolation. The mail book has gained extra clarity, and I’ve figured out why I’m having such trouble starting $ git merge murder. A crime novel is not the same as a mystery novel, and I want this to be a particular kind of mystery, which means I get to practice a new skill. Woo hoo! It’ll take me some time to prep that practice, though, so I’m switching back to Skybreach for a bit. That monstrosity is halfway done, I might just buckle down and pound through it this year.

But first, I gotta get the mail book rolling. I have no more conferences this year, so that should help.

We had pancakes for dinner last night, with a side of baked bacon. When one cooks, good manners dictate you make enough for everyone in the house.

On a related note, the rats can be bribed to go home.

Okay, mostly bribed.