(no subject)

I've been doing a bit of tidying round my flat, because several things have gone missing and I thought if I straightened stuff a little, maybe I could find them. I have''t found the missing things, but I have made a tiny discovery about human behaviour.

When people are sitting comfortably in a zone where it takes a little work to stand up, they will quite unintentionally hide things (I'm assuming ti's quite unintentional - after all, these are my friends). I found cups and the yellow pages and a valuable book under my couch just now, for instance. I remember being asked for each and every one of these things and (naturally) I remember who wanted what. Other times I have found clothes (lots of people seem to take sitting on my futon-couch as an excuse for a quiet strip) and purses and ... everything except the things I'm looking for right now.

I wonder if it would help people either put things away or give them back to me if I said here and now "Do you think I don't remember my friends when they visit?" Or maybe, "You've been sprung, all of you."

Maybe it's not general human behaviour. Maybe it's only at my place that people slide things under the couch for safekeeping. I do wish the dirty plates and half-finished food weren't put there, though.

(no subject)

Be afraid. Be very afraid. Be incredibly scared. My blog is about to be invaded by the stuff of nightmares. Or the people who publish nightmares, at least.

I won't be answering the phone, email, door or *anything* for the next little while because I'm going into retreat. I'm going to finish that New Ceres novel and my writing is going to cause much mischief and murder and mayhem and mutterings on New Ceres and I need some quiet in order to achieve this delightful goal.

The redoubtable people of Eneit Press have kindly offered to entertain you while I'm away. This is why you should be scared. One of them may bring Granny. Those of you who have met Granny are already cowering under the table, I see.

What I suggest is that you join in the fun (and it will be fun) and - when I emerge to normal life - make me really, really regret having missed it all. The other possibility is that you all get up to so much mischief that my blog implodes and I wonder what on earth you did to achieve that effect.

On second thoughts, I'd really rather you didn't implode the blog. I have no idea how I would explain it to Livejournal.

PS If you want to see what better writers than I have done with New Ceres then you can subscribe to the online magazine for not-very-much. If you want the short story that started it all and which decided it really was part of a novel and not of a short story at all, then be patient, because finishing it is only the first step. My mother will be upset with me though, since more than three people die in it.