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So this time my TracFone decided to email the picture I took a week ago:
 It's my SFG. Yeah, you know: me. Don’t think it looks like much? It’d look like a whole lot less if I hadn’t bought some seedlings from Plants of the Southwest.
Also, appearances notwithstanding, it’s set on (mostly) bare ground, not uneven cement. Granted, our clay soil often feels like cement. But the ground’s actually more khaki color. Which, I suppose, only makes sense.
So far all I can say is I probably need to water way more. The rain we’re getting right now ought to help in a major way. But everything’s alive, if not exactly shooting skyward. The Genovese Basil seems to thrive best, for some unknown reason.
I need to call and check out those 55-gallon drums - see what they were used for, see how many are available. Thanks again for the heads-up, Mike!
Tired now. More news soon.
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Emma Dog and I were walking south down Bear’s Ditch, headed back for the car on a pleasant summer evening, when we encountered a Mama Mallard and her family of maybe 6-8 adorable ducklings.
 Like these. They happened to be approaching a culvert beneath a dirt road. Mama Mallard steered the brood expertly clear.
Except for one who did not get the message in time. She began thrashing frantically and uttering panicked peeps - “Oh noes!” - as racing current swept her right into the culvert.
I waited anxiously on the other side. For a moment I thought she’d never emerge - although I thought I could hear her continued peeps for help. Her mother also was quacking steadily to help everybody formate on her.
Then the duckling came shooting out, still flapping and fussing. I started scoping out possible ways to help, and saw a watergate maybe thirty feet downstream where I figured I could either maybe steer her to the bank or even, worst case, snag her before she got hopelessly separated from her family. She was certainly way too small to survive on her own - these were bitty ducklings, sparrow-sized.
But I underestimated Mama. Here she came waddling down the ditchbank with the rest of the brood trooping obediently after. She led them safely past the race of the culvert and back down to the water, quacking the while.
Meanwhile the unlucky duckling had got her bearings enough to paddle toward the bank on her own, where the current was less and she was able to regain control over her navigation. Mama steered the brood into the main flow and sailed past serenely, with the whole flotilla following.
Except for one who swam right up to the one who’d gotten separated, as if to say, “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Then the two buddies paddled out after their fellows, and joined the procession safely, to my immeasurable relief.
I kept an eye on Emma for a while lest she decide she needed to retrieve some for me. She did seem to feign a certain interest in sniffing a grass clump not far past the flock. I called her on it and we, and the ducks, went our respectively merry ways.
Yes! At last I’ve scored the final ingredient.
Now all that remains is to assemble the pieces I have painstakingly gathered together. Then launch The Process.
Next - World Domination!
No, wait - that’s when I finish The Dinosaur Lords.
Still, I’m really stoked about this Secret Project. Once it gets going I’ll see how my litte cellphone camera does for taking pictures. One thing won’t likely be a huge problem: getting enough light. Not on a high desert summer afternoon!
When I was driving back from obtaining the Final Compound, I saw a lady riding down Griegos near my house on a recumbent bike. Yay! Once you go ‘bent, you’ll never repent!
Have to get my ‘bent trike overhauled and start riding again. If there’s a local bike shop that’ll just do it and not give me static. Suggestions, my fellow Burque-ites?
And they’re Suicide Kings!
 Rustbucket, Lord of the Jungle! Click on the suave image above to go read a thrilling excerpt - in fact, the very scene portrayed! - from the forthcoming Wild Cards mosaic novel on George RR Martin’s website. And click the title above the pic to pre-order your very own personal copy! (You know you want to.)
Well, there’ll be no living with Ian Tregillis, now that his character’s scored the cover painting. To say nothing of such an awesome one.
You’re excused a few moments to go read the excerpt … now.
Continue reading New Cards Are Dealt
So today Sara sent me a link to The Top 10 Weirdest Dinosaurs! One of them was Jeholopterus, a weird beakless flier I’d never heard of. That in turn led me to -
 Cute little spud, ain't he? - this little guy. His name’s Anurognathus. As you can see, he was a sparrow-sized, beakless, and probably furry flier from the Late Jurassic, who made his living pestering insects. Which, given the kinds of insects they had back then, must’ve been a pretty risky occupation. Especially when you’re like three and a half inches long.
I never knew there were beakless pterosaurs. Coolness. Clearly, I must use these in The Dinosaur Lords.
Continue reading Marvelous new critters for my fantasy novel!
… Sara’s totally gonna kick my butt.
So in her comment yesterday to this post, she said:
I shall gently remind you that TWICE now you have alluded to said wonderful news yet have neglected to deliver it.
TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My response was to tell her that I soon would, and mimic an evil laugh.
So today I sat down to reveal the Wonderful News, and discovered … that I already did.
It’s the Wild Cards thing: there’s a new anthology a-brewing - Fort Freak - and I’m in it.
As I’ve indicated, I’ve been getting lots more stuff done of late. But it’s taken a toll. In part I need to figure out how to manage my sleep better. One consequence of this is that my brains are sometimes even more scattered than usual.
Then again, I did reveal the Big Secret in my next post … on the 17th of May.
In other news, anybody got any cheap and easy solution (my favorite kind!) to the problem of how to measure 2 2/3rds cubic feet? It’s a gardening thing. I’ll tell you all about it when I get this thing done in a few days.
Also, any ideas on how to dry compost? I need, by remarkable coincidence, 2 2/3rds cubic feet of the stuff. I think I’ve made that much, and probably more, in the handy composter I fabricated out of a wheeled 50 gallon Wal-Mart garbage bin. It was yesterday when trying to turn and sift it - yes, when the boys and I experienced our little shovel-handle mishap - that I discovered it’s basically mud. Now, I suspect strongly that means it’s mostly, yes, compost; but extracting it from the unfinished bits with my homemade screen was less than productive. Not to mention not so much “sifting” as “grating.”
So I want to try drying it out and then sifting. The problem is how to keep it from all blowing away in the process, this being Albuquerque, and also to keep a lot of crap from getting in it. In large part literally, since a lot of birds hang out in my yard.
Suggestions, please, O my wise and puissant readers?
Got much done today. Reread lots of my big fantasy novel manuscript (you know the one), walked Emma, and turned and sifted the compost pile, both for the first time in way too long. Plus, you know, stuff. Standard daily chores.
Along the way I discovered an Important Composting Don’t: don’t hit yourself of in the nuts with the handle of a shovel. Even if not very hard. Just … don’t.
After all this time composting I’m not sure I’ve generated enough yet for my Special Purposes. While I will unveil shortly, once we move beyond the Gathering Materials Phase to the Actually Doing Stuff Phase. This may entail pictures, should I be able to coax acceptable images of out my cell phone camera.
And now I feel as if I’ve been dragged up ten flights of stairs by my heels. Need to get busy soon getting to sleep, so I can start getting up at a regular time, and get even more done.
More news soon. I promise.
Santa Fe journalist and music maven Steve Terrell clued me into what he rightly termed this revoltin’ development from eMusic: they’re raising their prices.
Yes, now. What a bright idea!
So I was moved to write them the following in response:
Dear eMusic:
While I’ve enjoyed and championed you service for years despite faults such as dubious tech support, if you raise your rates I intend to cancel my subscription.
Raising prices in a recession is a cardinal business sin. It’s not just wrong - as in cruel to your loyal customer base - it’s stupid. People are having to tighten up - and you expect them to pay *more* for what you’re selling? Does that really make sense?
So if your prices rise, I’m gone. And happily looking forward to your impending bankruptcy.
Sincerely,
Victor Milan
That really says what I had to say on the subject, so moving on …
Has it really been that long since I posted here? Yow! Apologies.
Been busy. Finished my rough draft on the Deathlands novel and got it in on time. Finished the rewrite in a week. Learned some drastic and invaluable lessons about writing - as in, how I do it - that I’ve had a blog post about partially drafted for a couple of weeks.
What I didn’t do so much during that very period was sleep. That caught up to me subsequently. With a bloody vengeance. And that’s my sniveling excuse for dereliction of my blogging duties: fatigue poisons beat the juice out of me!
Continue reading My letter to eMusic
I’ve got a new Rogue Angel novel coming out soon.
 One of our better covers, yes? How do I know? The usual: yesterday I heard a truck pull up, Emma barked, and then thump! on my doorstep. Opened the door and there it was: a little box o’ joy.
The joy’s somewhat mitigated by the fact I’ve been less-than-ceremoniously dumped from writing for the series. Oh, well: it’s still a book of mine published. And that’s something, frankly, I should fight becoming blasé about.
Plus if you turn to the copyright page, as usual, there’s a thoughtful little message: “Special thanks and acknowledgment to Victor Milán for his contribution to this work.” And by “contribution” they mean, of course, “all the words.” It’s a nice touch inasmuch as they aren’t required to acknowledge me in any way whatsoever.
While I don’t get royalties off these books - no biggie, since I never do on the Gold Eagle series, and anyway it’s not as if the conventional publishers are exactly eager to fork out royalty earnings - you can still support this site, and, oh, yeah, me and the pets, by clicking here to buy. Or just click on the pic above. (To read it you will have to wait until July, however, when it actually, you know, comes out.)
Oh, and a heartfelt plea: if you read my Rogue Angel yarns and enjoy them, would you please consider hopping over to the relevant Amazon.com pages and saying so in a review? Much as I know I should ignore it, I grow weary sometimes of getting screwed over by reviewers who appear to believe it’s “bad characterization” to attempt to portray our heroine, Annja Creed, as anything but a) a guy with boobs, who’s b) sociopathic.
Thank you.
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Credits: Contents copyright 2009 by the creators. Header dinosaur art courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. Thanks!
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