No, I haven’t forgotten about my website. I just got the bill for my webhosting service. I always forget when those things roll around.

No, I just moved back to Virginia and am… acclimating. I don’t have internet at my house yet (I’m totally on someone else’s internet… go me) so updating as regularly as I like it a bit of a challenge. On the plus side, writing secret Project X-1 has been going smoothly. I wrote 21,200 words last week on it and I hope to crack 35,000 words by next Wednesday.

No book reviews either, primarily because all my books are packed and it’s impossible for me to review a book without having the book next to me so I can reference when I forget a name (or quibble about the direction of a character and so on, so forth). Barb’s done a review, and I think that Chris might be doing another soon (no idea, actually). The Hugo winners have been decided, and the usual kerfuffle afterwards has begun (seriously, one day there’ll be a winner that everyone agrees upon and likes… and when that day occurs, I know that the world will end). And no, my pick for the winner did not win. No, I’m not bitter. Saladin Ahmed’s Throne of the Crescent Moon wasn’t read by enough people, I feel, to fully do it justice, whereas John Scalzi’s Redshirts (which won) had a more broader appeal and readership. *shrug*

I did find out that my buddy Larry Correia just missed being a finalist for the Hugos by 17 votes. That’s something, right? The Sad Puppy Campaign did well, but it could have been better. Next year, I’m suggesting Bronies.

No news yet on publication date for Mental Ward: Echoes of the Past. I’m still looking forward to the cover work, because I’m that sort of writer. I’m also waiting to see what SSP does for a cover for Hero’s Best Friend. Once all this is out and people are saying “Oh, that Cordova guy is soooo talented and dreamy”, then I’ll feel accomplished.

My fantasy, damn you. Not yours. Mine.

Don’t judge me.

…please.

I also went to Charlottesville this past weekend. It’s a nice town. Reminded me a lot of old town Pasadena, CA. Which was both cool and scary, in a way. Had dinner at this cool little southern place and drank a way-too-strong drink, watched a guy walk up and down the mall clapping his hands a lot (yep, totally reminded me of Pasadena) and singing “Hosanna!” at the top of his lungs. Not the song, mind you. Just “Hosanna!” over and over and over and over again.

Okay, time for me to head back down to my place and get some work done.