I’m looking a lot like this grumpy minion. Today, I was supposed to upload a review of another Angela Slatter story, but I haven’t gotten around to sitting down and properly dedicating the time. It’s been a trialling month and while I now see it wasn’t all that bad, I do what I always have done and that is fall in a place where my nerves and anxieties get the best of me. Expect severe improvements in the next couple of weeks, but right now, this is the situation. Read More Adjustment to My Schedule
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Last night during my all-nighter as I was chasing down a wild deadline, I found myself tweeting in the early hours of the morning (Bulgarian time) and encountered this tweet by author Kelly Link*:
Looking up drinks you make w/ cloudberry liquor. There is a drink called Kitten Cuddler, but we do not have creme de banane. So: Golden Sip.
— kellylink (@haszombiesinit) January 17, 2014
Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but I really started thinking about why a cocktail would be named the Kitten Cuddler (pretty random name). My brain was trying to find a correlation between kitten fur and banana crème. Anyway, somehow the conversation led to this tweet: Read More [Cocktail Recipe] Kelly Link’s Octopus Cuddler
New Year, New Luck.
This is the go-to catchphrase Bulgarians abuse days before New Year’s Eve and well after the old year has stiffened the grips of rigor mortis. As expected the expression doesn’t quite carry the same sing-song quality as it does in Bulgarian, but then again translation steals the thunder of pretty much everything.
New Year’s Eve has come and gone. The calendar has clocked out its last day. People have murdered the hell out of 2013 and look with thinly veiled warning at 2014. I’m probably in a food comma somewhere and the world has reset again. Read More What 2013 Taught Me about Life, People and Writing
I have a book buying habit, which I can’t sustain. Perhaps if I marry a guy in the publishing industry, there’d be a high chance I’d get all the books that I want, but that’s not happening. The deal I have made with myself is that I have to get through at least six books of my own before I even consider buying a new tome. No matter what.
So what I’m left with is to salivate over books I desperately want. Hence why I’ll return to a book blogger favourite: Waiting & Wishing on Wednesday, where I talk about the books I want and hope I find a handsome gentleman who will donate (though ladies are also encouraged to donate). Kidding aside, this is a collection by Molly Tanzer that’s been popping up my feed and I find it to be quite intriguing: Read More Waiting & Wishing on Wednesday: “Rumbullion and Other Liminal Libations” by Molly Tanzer
As you may have noticed already, I have missed Monday in Women in Genre. I’m a stickler for schedule and it irks me I have come to this point in time and have skipped a day, but when your body plays a nasty trick on you, there’s little you can do to stay on schedule. I’ve been battling a set of muscle spasms for the past five days and the pain has kept from maintaining my backlog of posts for situations from these. Monday and today have been the worst in terms of pain and I have been suffering sleep deprivation on the account of the pain. My focus has become rather hazy and I don’t think I can deliver a coherent post. Read More Women in Genre: Schedule Update
Day one, everyone. Here is my first story about women in genre. J.K. Rowling’s name has been thrown in more than one conversation, because she has effectively shaped a whole generation and coincidentally, it was Rowling who got me into reading books for pleasure and taught me how to appreciate the written word. Rewind the tape, please.
As a kid of the 90s, I grew up with an unconditional love for my television set. Cartoon Network had invaded my life since I was six year old and has stayed there. Then came RTLII with German-dubbed anime and Fox Kids with the X-Men. Heaven had set up camp in my living room and I’d no intention to fall from grace any time soon. Read More [Women in Genre, Day 1] J.K. Rowling and The Dawn of the Reader