Well, I mean, I’m not. She is:
Recently having decided to switch, at least for a while, from my previous habit of picking a random book to read, and instead reading them in roughly the order in which they got them, I have lately been picking up* books that I acquired way back in the halcyon days of 2015. The one I’m reading this week is The Branches of Time, by Luca Rossi.
So this week I decided to reach into my giant stack of rejection letters. As usual, I went to random.org to decide which section of the file to pull from, and it told me that this week, it would be the letter O. Despite its ubiquity as a vowel, my file folder for the letter O turned out to be virtually empty. (O, The Oprah Magazine wasn’t in operation when I was submitting a lot of short stories places. Not that I would have submitted anything there anyway, since that wasn’t exactly my target market.) However, I did find something a little unusual: Submission guidelines to an ancient fanzine called Oh Boy.
So this week I’m reading That Risen Snow, by Rob E. Boley, which answers a question no one ever thought to ask: What if, after being kissed by the Prince, Snow White awakened as a ravenous zombie?
Those who have been following this blog for a while (i.e., my parents — hi Mom & Dad!) may remember how, a few years back, my wife and I spent about six months getting caught up on HBO’s Game of Thrones series. Because we didn’t have HBO, we did this by getting the discs from Netflix, and because, the seasons were spread across a lot of discs, we temporarily upped our plan to the “two discs at a time” level. (Otherwise it would have taken us like a year.) Around when we were finishing up Season 7, HBO announced that there would be no Game of Thrones in 2018, and so once the last disc went back to Netflix, we had to wait. And wait. And wait.
Now, of course, the wait is over.