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In honor of the upcoming semi-decennial update to Mismatching Wits, I arted again. This image will become part of the story’s current cover art:

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I don't usually make blogs about my personal life, but this is something I had to get off my chest, almost literally. And there may be something extra in it for you. I hope so, in a way, but I mainly hope not. Feel free to read, regardless; I'll try to keep it entertaining.

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I have been informed that red and green are appropriately festive colors for the upcoming holidays. Am I doing it right?

I had to add one:

If I Was Wooden Matter

I prematurely posted a draft chapter last week and had to yank it down again because it hadn't cooked enough. I'm finished and it's back up now:

http://www.fimfiction.net/story/132387/4/friendship-is-optimal-mismatching-wits/principia-discordai-part-2

This concludes the April Fools interlude; the story will continue soon on its previous track. Here's another teaser:

“Hey, Pen!” they called out to him from the grass.

“Yes?” he replied, dragging his snout out of his book.

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My Heinlein tribute story is complete. If you have any interest in Golden Age science fiction, or you'd like to see what might happen if Nightmare Moon were to confront a wily business tycoon, I invite you to give it a read.

I admit to being rather stunned. It is the work of the multi-talented Illya Leonov:

The MP3 is available at the creator's Soundcloud account.

I'm just sitting here with a big smile on my face. Please, have a listen.

You can read the flattering review, and my interview, here. (It will be visible on FimFiction later this week.)

Also, Seattle's Angels have given a mostly-positive review. (Perhaps I am too dense a writer to fully appreciate it.)

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This tickled me, and I thought I would share it.

The Two Poets

Two Poets were quarrelling for the Apple of Discord and the Bone of Contention, for they were very hungry.

“My sons,” said Apollo, “I will part the prizes between you. You,” he said to the First Poet, “excel in Art—take the Apple. And you,” he said to the Second Poet, “in Imagination—take the Bone.”

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