Odds and (Mostly Split) Ends

It would appear that this book thing is legit. Ever since signing the contract with Llewellyn, I’ve been damn near convinced that the universe is playing some absurd cosmic prank on me. The weeks following submission of the first draft sparked a new wave of anxiety. I’ve been a Llewellyn reader and familiar with their body of work since around 1999/2000. My book? Y’all, it’s about Loki. There’s no way for someone like me to write about Loki without a lot of sarcasm and vaguely snide commentary. Llewellyn isn’t known for snark. Loki … he’s the god of snark. The first chapter is about the myths, which I’ve covered in a sort of Drunk History fashion. Can you blame me? We’re talking about a figure who decided the best way to make an angry giantess smile was to tie his balls to a goat’s beard and play tug of war. I can write about Sigyn in a lovely academic tone. I can’t write about Loki without comparing him to Eric Cartman.

So of course, I was bracing myself for the editors to come back and tell me they wanted to cancel the contract. Or to rewrite the entire book. I actually emailed my editor and ask if I needed to arrange a delivery of apology scotch to ease the pain of having to deal with my nonsense.

Turns out, they seem to like it. They even, dare I say, enjoyed it.

This means I have to get a headshot for the book and marketing. This created an expensive problem: I’ve been neglecting my hair for TWO YEARS because of cash flow issues followed by, you know, that global pandemic that people keep talking about. Sunday I reunited with my estranged hairdresser to re-domesticate my feral mane. Not only did I get about a foot of hair chopped (ugh, it was halfway down my back, while I prefer to have it skimming my shoulders), but we got to have some fun with color. After all, now that I veil I can adjust the veil to hide “unnatural” color at work and flash my plumage when I’m not doing a poor impression of a well-adjusted professional.

Such a professional.

When I say “we” had fun with color, you just know Loki had to weigh in on things.

The goal: purple color melt. Super dark melting into plummy purple fading down to silvery lilac at the ends. Now, I’ve always preferred dark colors. I used to dye it blue-black in college, then daaaaaaaark brown with burgundy lowlights, that kinda thing. So of course we weren’t going to achieve silvery ends in a single afternoon – bleaching/lightening takes time if you’re going to do it right. So we decided on the dark brown > purple > rose gold in the meantime.

After the bleachy bit, when she was painting the purple and rose gold into my hair, the other ladies in the salon heard me say something about the book, which led to a bunch of questions about Loki and heathenry. I was happy to talk about heathenry, but Sigyn help me, I did not want to talk about Loki while my hairdresser was coloring my hair. I’m old. I’ve been around the block once or twice (or several dozen times). The bitty hairs on my arms started to tingle, I could feel the shift in the atmosphere.

Ah, shit. I’m going to have orange hair, aren’t I?

“Of course, darling. This is, after all, for a photo for a book about me. You can have your light metallics later. For now, you’re repping me.”

It should be noted that I’m damn near blind. I’m so nearsighted that I can barely even make out colors or vague shapes 3-4 feet away. So I really do put full trust into my hairdresser whenever I visit because I have to take my thick, heavy glasses off so she can work her magic. Against my better judgement, I answered all of the questions about Loki and told stories and such. And the more I spoke, the more I noticed hazy blobs of bright orange — neon orange — in the burry space where I knew the mirror was supposed to be. Fine, whatever, I was just glad to be getting something done to my hair for the first time in eons.

When all was said and done and my glasses were back in place, I started laughing at my hair. It looked amazing, mind you, but the colors were pretty damn vivid. . .and instead of rose gold at the ends, the purple morphed into orange.

Thanks, Loki.

Never thought I’d be so in love with having orange hair, but here we are,

But seriously, I loved the combo, and my girl did such an extraordinary job. There’s a reason I’ve been going to her for almost 15 years, no matter where she’s working. It has since faded a bit into a nice peachy rose gold, and I’m living for it. I’m pretty stoked for getting a good author pic, now that my hair is looking better than it has in years.

In any case, the launch meeting at Llewellyn is happening soon, so it won’t be long before I can announce the title and relevant details! THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Rare shot of me without my veil. SCANDAL!
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