I'm sick and I hate you all. When you're all sleeping well tonight, I'll be making ugly voodoo dolls of you all and coughing my diseases onto them.

At any rate, it looks like a lot of writerly people will be in Sydney on the 19th, judging by the amount of people who have asked me if I'll be at the Magic Casement's Festival. It might actually be worth going to, if you're curious. I won't be there as I'll be working unless something unfortunate happens, such as work is burnt down, I'm fired, or this illness sends me to a cornered off room where I am hooked up to lovely machines that beep like unhappy musicians. Since the likelihood of any of those things happening is slim, I probably won't be there. The festival will suffer for it, of course. If I'm not there telling everyone that editors are crack addicts, it's just not a festival.

But if you're curious about getting involved with the local speculative fiction scene, this is a place to go. Introduce yourself around, but don't mention me, whatever you do. Also, the Writers Centre is a nice place, so if the writers bore you, you can sit and chill on one of the hills, look at the river, enjoy the breeze, and read crime fiction.