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Thursday, March 14, 2013

The dream of fair minions--

Today I am my own minions. (Every day I am my own minions, though I dream of small minions of a pale green color, useful and loyal and quick, with mellifluous voices. Or without mellifluous, so long as they take great delight in household drudgery and secretarial duties.) For this reason you may imagine me dashing about doing ornery tasks so that I can sit down in the great flood of words later on.

Trala!
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Meeting me elsewhere: excerpts from 2012 books (A Death at the White Camellia Orphanage, Thaliad, The Foliate Head) at ScribdThaliad at Phoenicia Publishing. See page tabs above for more on those brand new books, The Throne of Psyche from 2011, and others.

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Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.