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One of those me me me posts

January 18, 2010 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Not Exactly Random, The Craft  2 Comments

Hello my faithful 8.3 readers!

Small check-in.

I had a particularly intellectually challenging contract that I just finished, and my brain is toast. Just putting that up front.

I was feeling down on MARTIN (where’s the next book!), so I re-devoured A Game of Thrones. What an extraordinary epic novel. Between the first time I read the novel in 1997 (!) and this year, 2010 (!), I wrote three novels of my own, and not only was the re-read entertaining, but also educational. Martin has outstanding voicing. For example, a father and son who are alike, but come across, through the pages, as distinct and separate individuals dispute their personality similarities. I could go on, but if you haven’t re-read Martin’s classic in a while, you should do so. It is very educational.

COURTNEY SUMMERS is a genius. Some Girls Are is a technically brilliant novel, and a thought-provoking one at that. I am savoring it like a fine bottle of cognac. I’ll post a review latter. There is a lot in this novel for a YA author. It’s basically a must read on your YA list.

Hey: GARY CORBY is your novel out yet, I want to read it really, really bad!

On my meager writing front, I’m line editing The Wælcyries Murders. Then it’s off to finish The Baby Dancers. Cause, you know, it’s all about goblin ninjas. ON FIRE.


Dreams are Weird, Part II

January 12, 2010 Author: Anthony Pacheco Category: Not Exactly Random  7 Comments

I had a dream last night I was at the big Barnes and Noble in  Bellevue at a book signing.

So there I was waiting patiently in line, as I slowly moved to where the author was standing, and for some reason I am nervous, which is weird, because, she’s a waif and looks as intimidating as a kindergartner, but hey, maybe this is a dream about me being shy meeting new people?

No. I hand her my book that I have been clutching. She frowns.

What did I do? Do I smell? Am I not wearing clothes? What? WHAT?

I handed her a book that wasn’t hers.


I wake up.

Dreams are weird.