One thing is certain:
1. I will embarrass myself,
2. I cannot please everyone,
3. This is fine.
Too much has passed without comment.
A new volume slides up the horizon,
less Kubrist monolith and
It's coming. In a sense, it's here
(in the sense that I read an ARC a couple of months ago)
(and in the further sense that a finished copy arrived a couple of weeks ago)
now, with us, among us.
(And in the furrier sense that, as I suggested years(!) ago,
it was already present in the earlier books, in the house, in Only Revolutions, in everything,
and The Familiar confirms that immediately in a way that is
both gratifying and,
I have to admit,
a little terrifying).
And I don't scare easy.
No pressure. This is just another beginning.
Putting my infrastructure in place.
This is a weird form of fanartfic,
one I feel compelled to enact
even after so many years.