I have a confession to make. These past two weeks, I’ve been a very poor writer. And it’s all Seanan McGuire‘s fault.
Don’t get me wrong, Ms. McGuire is a great writer, but that’s the problem. Thanks to her October Daye novels, I haven’t gotten any work done. I haven’t done any writing and I’ve barely done any packing. I’ve done nothing except read–read, read, read, as fast as I can, followed by flying trips to the library for more of her books.
Considering I’m moving in a week, that’s a problem.
No, what’s more of a problem is the fact that the library doesn’t have the latest two October Daye novels. Once I finish reading Chimes at Midnight (sometime later this afternoon), I’m going to be out of books. Wah!
I’m seriously thinking about ordering the entire series as an early Christmas gift to myself, but there’s the move to consider. Really, how responsible would it be to buy books while I’m in the middle of moving? What if they get lost in the mail? Besides, I don’t have anywhere to put them. Although, that’s never stopped me before . . . .
Living with the Pun Master 