Back online, finally, after a month of hassle with my hosting company. Not that I have anything particularly wonderful to say and I am sure my rants go out to an audience of none these days. Still, it's good to be back.
First up: The Migration.
My hosting company recently sold the hosting arm of their business to another company. No big deal on my end, except the new company decided to migrate accounts over to a new server about two months ago. I've been involved in migrations before. They can be a pain in the ass if not planned out correctly. You need to make sure that everything is moved over to the new server and that you redirect things, take a diff copy after the cutover, then test things are all good. The new hosters did none of this. Instead they completely borked my account on both old and new servers.
For about a month there The Bauble is completely offline and since I have it as the single access point for the writing site as well it meant no updates anywhere.
Many mails back and forth with support (which I hated every minute off because they were the sort of support guys who do one thing and then close a ticket without checking everything else) and I finally got the new server working for me. Except then a bunch of my code stopped working. So a bit of a refactor over the holiday season and we are, finally, back in business.
In writing terms I've just finished the second draft of my sci-fi novel, working title 'Duplex Tempus'. I'm pretty happy with how it is shaping up. There are some subplots that I just cut and working through the draft I had a few ideas to change things around, so draft three will be a busy one. The aim is to have the book fully finish in time for Dublin Comic Con in August. Now I had big plans of doing that when working on 'Stolen Stories' and ended up not being ready in time at all. But sure you can't rush mediocrity.
Finally I've had a great Christmas with the family. Compared to last year, which was a little chaotic, we had a nice rhythm to things this year. Being Santa is definitely more fun than believing in him, particularly when the lady friend gets on board with Die Hard playing during present assembly as a 'tradition that we will keep going'.
Onto a winner there I can tell you.
The look on Nugget and Jellybean's faces when they saw the presents was heart warming. Writing about magic in the Filthy Henry novels is one thing, but seeing it in the eyes of your kids is something that would make anyone believe that magic is real. Even though Jellybean is too young to truly get what is going on, the wonder at toys that are his was still great to see. No longer does he have to steal the Iron-man from big sis anymore
Ask anyone that creates some sort of medium which is consumed, such as a comic or book, and they will always say the same question is asked: When's the next one coming out.
People are rarely happy to have the current edition of something in their hands, they want the one that is next. It may not even have been started yet, but they still seek some minute piece of info about it.
In many ways this is a complement. People are interested to know what you are working on now, not what you have just finished. It is a hilariously paradoxical thing to have happen.
Well this post is about what I'm currently working on and have been since Comic Con end.
Now, it might come as a surprise, but my next novel is not actually a Filthy Henry one. It isn't that I have fallen out of love with the character or can't come up with any new plots, far from it. In fact I have about four novels with the fairy detective all in the early stages of planning. He will definitely return. But the current book is something that has been bouncing around my head for a while now.
A sci-fi noir story.
One of my all time favourite books is 'Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep' by Philip K. Dick. I have always wanted to write a story along those lines, a futuristic detective novel. Over the weekend I finished the first draft of just such a story.
The working title is currently 'Duplex Tempus'. A quick blast of the plot is that the is a machine which allows people to make a temporal copy of themselves for eight hours and somebody is going around murdering people who use the machine. Ideally I will have it polished and finished in time for Dublin Comic Con this summer, currently draft two is under way, but as I have learned Life gets in the way of a writer's best laid plans. So no promises on that front.
After I'm done it's straight back to Dublin's least favourite detective of fairy related cases. But depending how the sci-fi novel is received I may work on a few more. Sure, why not?
At the end of the last Birthday Post for Nugget I made the joke that by the time the I finished posting that rant it would be her third birthday.
A silly joke about how time flies when you're having kids.
Well I blinked and here we are now, Nugget has turned three.
We've gone from having a hilarious two year old, pottering around the house and babbling away to us, to having a three year old that not only babbles but has imaginary friends and never shuts the hell up.
I mean seriously. From the minute she wakes up she talks. I am nearly sure she talks in her sleep, just at a slightly slower speed to day time talking.
But the difference between a two and three year old is amazing. Sure she could talk and do things, but in the last few months we noticed big changes. She knows what she wants and can be pretty damn vocal if she doesn't get it. She wants to be involved in the raising of Jellybean. Holding him, feeding him his bottle, jumping out of bed at the slightly cry to console him. It's equal parts cute and a pain in the ass. The last thing you need the toddler waking the baby when you are downstairs.
I can't be arsed doing all the walking.
But, knowing full well that everyone says this about their kids, she is bloody amazing. We got her a bike and it took six seconds for her to figure it out. Sure it has stabilizer, but peddling and steering is no problem to her.
I could go on and on but I won't, because she will eventually read this and her ego is bad enough at three without needing to tell her more.
Happy Birthday Nugget, you amazing ball of madness. Never change.