Howdy, everyone! I've been pretty distracted since my latest story rocketed to the top of the featurebox — a deluge of 5,000 reads and 200+ comments in three days will do that to you — but my silence this week deserves some additional explanation.

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First, a quick announcement: New story! Social Lubricant (NSFW) just hit Equestria After Dark and is making its way through just passed FIMFic moderation[1]. It's (obviously) Mature-rated — though its actual clop content is inconsequential, so don't be misled by the Sex tag. If drunk, sex-obsessed ponies discussing desires and unloading emotional baggage aren't your thing, don't worry — there's less crackshippy

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Okay guys, seriously: Cook and Price are like unto some kind of comics gods. If this leaked page (SPOILERS, obviously) is any indication, MLP issue #11 is overflowing with win.

In honor of pony Oingo Boingo being (*edit:) comic-canon now, here's another of The Mystic Knights Of The Electric Stable's greatest hits:

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Once upon a time, Past Me sat at my computer, staring at FIMFiction and saying: "Gosh. What I wouldn't give to read more Skywriter stories."

That's when Future Me appeared in a giant cloud of sulphurous smoke. "You sound like a soul in need."

Past Me jumped up. "Holy moley! What are you doing here, Future Me?"

"I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a fiddle player too," Future Me said. "And if you'd care to take a dare … wait. This is Tuesday, right?"

"Thursday."

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tl;dr: If you're looking for the list of meet-and-greet participants, click this handy link.

So Saturday was the Sac Brony Expo, where what I thought was going to be a local gather thing turned into a 500+-person convention drawing folks from neighboring states.

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First off: Judging has been completed for the magelight punchline contest! In a transparent bid to increase suspense, I will announce that the net result of seven judges' opinionating was a two-way tie for first place, and then wait until this weekend to post the results.

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Don't let the title put you off — Estee's latest story Five Hundred Little Murders is not a shock fic. It is, in major ways, about death; it stars a most likely sociopathic protagonist; and it will punch you in the f*cking gut if you've ever lost a pet — but it will hit you 100% legitimately, and then give you a gentle hug and an apology for having done so.

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Yes, a contest! Read on for the details. But first, a quick life update …

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Robert lost two toes to frostbite a few years back … or so he told me. I really try to take people at their word, but I'm not sure he was telling the truth.

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(Note: I'll update this at odd intervals throughout the weekend as a record of my convention experience.)

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