After reading so many misguided emotions from writers and bloggers I otherwise admire, it was refreshing to find someone who pretty much feels the same way about The Hugo situation as I do. From George R.R. Martin’s Not A Blog:
You can’t call it cheating, though. It was all within the rules.
But many things can be legal, and still bad… and this is one of those, from where I sit.
Read the rest here
. (Since I originally posted this yesterday, GRRM has posted three more times on the subject. It’s refreshingly level-minded stuff.)
* * *
Last night I was bitten by a cat who thought my convertible top was down for his amusement. I can honestly say it’s the first time I’ve felt a fang scrape any of my bones. I have a friend who went to the E.R. for cat scratch fever (it’s not just an annoying song) so I didn’t mess around getting it checked out by a professional. The swelling isn’t too bad, but it hurts like hell all over my hand and especially in the joints of my thumb. I can barely even type and my text messages are a mess.
The bitch of the situation is I used to like cats. Not anymore. Not for a while, anyway. Considering this cat also attacked my dog once, I’m investing in a Super Soaker.
Since typing hurts, I might be taking a break from working on my novel tonight. Which sucks because I had some really good ideas for how to tie up some loose ends when I was waiting (for several hours) in the urgent care clinic.