Well… finally The Gods of Amyrantha has been sent off to all the little minions, fellow authors and my Masters Cohort, who will read it and find any gaping plot holes I left… (please, please find the gaping plot holes...) So if you’re on the Minion Mailing List and you’ve haven’t got an email from me in the last few hours with 4MB of attachments, email me and let me know, would you?

On the upside, this means tomorrow I can do the last few corrections to The Immortal Prince line edit and send that off to HarperCollins, and then I don’t have to write another word for a couple of months.

On the down side, I can no longer put off sorting out my tax receipts.

Oh well…

I was able to get this finished this afternoon because we finished Stargate-ing on the stroke of midnight last night. Probably would have finished sooner only we had to stop for Dace’s rock concert.

This involved watching Dace sing a number of songs that he was making up as he went along (complete with rhyming lyrics, I have to say) to the accompaniment of the piano, which he doesn’t actually know how to play.

The songs seemed to be about weapons stashes, shooting bad guys and dinosaurs, for the most part, and every one of them was accompanied by a major chord and a loud Ta da! at the end, so we’d know when to applaud.

This would have been funny enough, except at the end of the concert, he made us all line up while he signed autographs. Then (and I swear… I don’t make this stuff up) he faked a collapse and insisted we pretend he had to be taken from the stadium in an ambulance, after which we were told to tell the audience he was just suffering from exhaustion..

Apparently, according to Dace, that’s what rock stars do.