Time continues to race past. Tomorrow is Robin’s wedding, which should be enormous fun. Next Friday is little Sophie’s fourth birthday, which will be a complete delight. And it’s only seventeen days till I fly to Sydney. No time at all. I need to start making some plans for what I’m doing everywhere, so…

I’ll be in Oakland from Tuesday 25 October until Tuesday 1 November, and again on Tuesday 8 November. If you’d like to get together, drop me an email. As always there’s lots and lots to do, but if I can fit it, I’d love to see people. I’ll also be in Madison for World Fantasy from November 3 to November 7. I’m co-hosting an open party on the Thursday, but other than that, am pretty much free and would love to see people. Let me know if you’ll be there, and if you’d like to get together.

I’ve known Russell for quite some years now – ten or something. It was he who named The Coode Street Review of Science Fiction, which inadvertently lead to the name for this blog and a number of other things. Anyway, just yesterday he emailed me and asked if I would blog about the e-publication of the latest issue of Ticonderoga: Online, which I am dutifully doing. It includes all kinds of crunchy goodness, including fiction from Cat Sparks and Shane Jiraiya Cummings, which is cool.

While this is a good thing, the project of Russell’s that I’m most looking forward to is the re-animation of Ticonderoga Publications and the publication of Troy by Simon Brown. That will be cool.

And the Tim Powers news keeps coming! Bill over at Subterranean Press has just posted information about a limited edition of a new Powers novel, Three Days to Never, that I assume will be published some time in mid-to-late 2006. To whet your appetite, Bill’s description of the book from the SubPress site is:

When 12-year-old Daphne Marrity steals a videotape of Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure from her grandmother’s house, neither she nor her college-professor father, Frank Marrity, have any idea that the theft has drawn the attention of both the Israeli Secret Service and an ancient European organization of occultists — or that within hours they’ll be visited by her long-lost grandfather, who also wants that videotape.

And when Daphne’s teddy bear is stolen, and a blind assassin nearly kills her father, and a phantom begins to speak to her from a switched-off television set, Daphne and her father find themselves running for their lives through a southern California in which magic and the undead past are dangers as great as the guns of living assassins.

From ancient prophesies about Israel to the secret lives of Charlie Chaplin and Albert Einstein, this breathtaking novel throws a suburban father and daughter into the midst of an ancient supernatural battle.

I’m pretty sure that there’ll be a mass market edition of some kind, but Bill does a lovely job with his books, and it is Tim Powers.

The latest offering from Ellen Datlow’s SciFiction, Jay Lake & Ruth Nestvold’s “The Canadian Who Came Almost All the Way Home From the Stars” is a tale that recalls the pastoralist science fiction of the late Clifford Simak. Six years after launching a self-funded starship on a mission for Barnard’s Star, a wealthy Canadian astrophysicist ‘telephones’ his wife to tell her he’s on his way home. Soon after, a large depression appears in the middle of a lake in a Canadian national park. It immediately becomes the center of intense investigations by the Canadian and US governments. However, when those investigations provide no real explanation for what has happened, interest wanes and eventually the astrophysicist’s beautiful wife and a government agent are left to maintain a long vigil to discover the nature of the anomaly and the fate of the astrophysicist. There’s a lot to like in this nicely understated novelette. The characterisation is spot in, the tone is maintained perfectly and all in all it’s probably the most accomplished story I’ve seen from either writer. Well worth checking out.

Sorry for being away. I half-wrote several posts, but never quite got to finishing them (the story of my last few weeks). Since last we met there has been glorious sunshine, dancing, visits to the zoo, drenching rains, cleaning of houses, and that darn mouse.

Along the way, I meant to write to you about how short story collections are a form in themselves (and how surely Bradbury and Le Guin are amongst the finest exponents of that art), how intrigued I am by snatches from the new My Morning Jacket cd Z, my delight at the announcement of the impending re-release of Springsteen’s Born to Run, to enthuse even more about Neil’s “Sunbird” (which I like more and more), and a bunch of other good things.

Most of all, though, this morning I woke up and things didn’t seem so bad for the first time in a while. I’ve got to email some folk about heading out for drinks this weekend, and draft a short speech for one of my very best friend’s wedding. And then there’s my Sophie’s fourth birthday. It’s easy to get caught up in the grind of the day-to-day, and to forget how delightful such things are. I can’t believe it’s been nearly twenty one years since I met Robin (about time he found a nice girl and settled down), nor can I believe it’s been four years since Sophie was born. It seems like yesterday. And it’s only twenty-six days till I head off for the States. Too much to do, which makes it too easy to overlook how good life is, but life is good.