Monday is when Lore of the Forsaken is out. Moo hoo ha ha ha. It's currently third on WW's bestsellers list, just under the new MET books. I find this a scary thought, even though I know it means nothing.
When I wrote it, I did wonder what people would think about my chapter, but I'm beyond caring right now and into caring about Nice Spleen, Bitch. And socks. Because I need to. I'll care more about Lore if I read reviews.
In other news: I can always tell when my parents have been on holiday by the way that two weeks' mail shows up on a Saturday morning.
In other other news: Still pondering a name for the flat. Alexandria would work, but it's a name of ill-omen. Don't want the place burning down. Perhaps Text Grand Central or The Stacks. Anyone got any better ideas? horza, I'm looking at you especially. What with it being our flat and all.
Right. Time to find a breakfast that doesn't need lighting and inhaling.