Finally. I finished writing Body Language at 2:00 a.m. I spent every spare moment today editing it and I’ve just posted it for critique. We’ll see what folks say.
Meanwhile, back at the camp, my kids–the good ones–really focused today and finished the set. I really didn’t think it was going to happen this time. I had to give one girl a really sound talking to, but I don’t think it made a difference.
And finally, I worked on the Portland Spirit tonight. Whee.
If you want to read Body Language (8900 words), drop me an email. Here’s a teaser for you.
Mary Robinette Kowal
Saskia knelt inside the giant man-eating plant checking the repair to the puppet’s control bar. The puppet stank. She never noticed the months of sweat impregnating the foam and fabric when she was performing, but the odor was overwhelming now.
She could hear the muffled murmur of conversation. The techies probably wanted to know when she would clear the stage. One of them said her name, sounding like he had forgotten she was in the puppet. Saskia ignored him and opened the jaw to test it.
As the giant puppet moved, he yelped. Saskia grinned. There were days when she loved her job. Then the techie said, “Saskia? There’s a detective here to talk to you.”
Saskia almost dropped the puppet. Detective? As she clambered out of the puppet, she started running through the list of friends and family who might be in trouble, but came up blank.
The techie stood next to a stocky man, maybe Indian, maybe South American; she’d never been good at guessing. The man wore AI interface glasses, which meant he had an Artificial Intelligence as an invisible partner. His crisp suit made Saskia acutely aware that she still wore the sweat-stained bike clothes she performed in. Her hair was probably a snarled rat’s nest.