My Own Personal Grey

Voiceless in Seattle

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So, after a half-day of whispering at people at the PNWA kickoff and administrative stuff, I still have only half as much voice as usual (possibly less). But I think all things strange and undone have been taken care of, now. At least I hope so. Except for the voice thing…

Seems I caught a cold at Comic Con and what with the drinking and yelling and running about… I came home with inflamed tonsils and vocal cords. My doctor ordered me to rest my voice for three days so I could talk at PNWA this weekend, but, alas, I still don’t have my full room-commanding bark back. So… I’ll be using the microphones a lot and probably rolling my eyes at the annoyance of not being able to stop traffic by simply yelling.

My throat still hurts. I blame the drinking. And for that I thank Rob Thurman. And the pasty-white Samoan Nazi. And the Pineapple Scot. And the waiter.

But damn it was fun!

Maybe I’ll lose my voice completely before my book launch on Tuesday…. What are the bets?

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