Just a quick check-in. Just got back from the Celsius 232 Festival of Fantasy, Science Fiction, and Horror in Aviles, Spain - a WONDERFUL festival, and unlike any other convention I've been to. It's not in a hotel, but bookshop kiosks are scattered all through the 17th-century Old Town. This was the hotel they put me up in - a 17th-century nobleman's palace (that served REALLY fine breakfasts!) (The other picture is of me in front of an old fountain). Soft gray weather. One day it did drizzle. Two days there was a religious festival - the Virgin of Carmen, who guards all vehicles, fishing-boats in this case - with parades of drummers and a life-size Madonna carried through the streets. In the evening everyone in town walks their dogs. The final notes from my editor on 'Death in the Palace' are due in a week, and I will post at greater length then. (I am also having the house re-piped, so there are plumbers in and out and for a week there was a back-hoe in my fron...
First, to my great annoyance (I have five weeks before I need to turn in the next Benjamin January book) I have not yet got the situation with Facebook sorted out. I am still not able to sign in and post on my Facebook site, Barbara Hambly, Writer - I'm trying to get that sorted out. BUT, I'm happy to say that as part of my new contract with Open Road Media, there will be a new (or 70% new) entry in the Asher/Ysidro vampire series after all. A couple of years ago I wrote "Gravemould and Ectoplasm," covering Lydia's adventures with Don Simon Ysidro in New York after Don Simon ceased being an active vampire and became... whatever he became, a ghost among the Undead. At the end of the final novel of the series, Prisoner of Midnight, he and Lydia are in New York (with 5-year-old Miranda, Lydia's daughter) while James Asher has to go back to his undercover assignment on the Eastern Front. Last year I picked up that story in a novella called "Nightfall's...
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Here is a deeply unflattering picture of me on the beach this morning, wearing 4 layers under my gi and looking like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, after doing 1100 sword-cuts with my iaido group at sunrise, a dojo tradition of "spirit training." After the Misogi - as it's called - we walked down to the ocean, to watch the waves materialize out of a horizonless gray eternity of fog.
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