I got all caught up in Pith hullabaloo and I forgot to blog yesterday.

This weekend is the Midsouth Book Festival over in Memphis and I’m moderating a panel. I’m very excited and nervous.

The dogs and cats have reached some kind of understanding, but I still have to feed the cats behind the drum set, because they won’t come that far out of hiding. I imagine, if we set them up a secret path throughout the whole house, where they could just sneak around without being seen, they’d be quite happy.

I had no idea that fake NPR-ish supernatural podcasts were a whole genre, but they appear to be. I’m kind of excited about Limetown, and not just because it’s set in Tennessee and seems sort of aware of our history as a place for hidden government facilities and failed utopias.

I’m letting Ashland percolate while I have a busy couple of weeks. But then I’m diving in to revisions. I’m considering going down to Ravenswood and sitting on the porch again to do some. I looked into what it might cost to rent it for the day, just to be able to sit inside it and work, but the deposit! Holy shit. I mean, I just want to sit in a chair in a corner and type and occasionally wander around and check out views and such. Not bring 250 people in there for a wedding.

So, if any of you have an 1820s 8-room antebellum mansion you’d let me write in for free or for maybe $100, please holler.

Ha ha ha.

I’m too poor to even get in dead rich people’s houses.