I had a nice long talk with Jim of Dark Sword Miniatures this evening, and I’m pleased to report the first batch of Ice & Fire miniatures are finished, and should go on sale next month. The first release will feature ten figures — six characters (Jon Snow, Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Melisandre of Asshai, Ser Loras Tyrell, and Sandor Clegane) and four (unnamed) brothers of the Night’s Watch, including an archer and a raven keeper. All the minis have been sculpted by the incomparable Tom Meier. They will be sold individually, and will retail for $9.99 apiece.

For more details and pictures, visit Dark Sword’s website at http://darkswordminiatures.com/ and Tom Meier’s site at Thunderbolt Mountain http://www.thunderboltmountain.com/ And while you’re there, take a look at some of Tom’s stunning Thunderbolt Mountain Arthurian figures and his great line of elves, and check out Dark Sword’s other lines, based on the fantasy artwork of Larry Elmore and the late, great Keith Parkinson.

Dark Sword has some exciting plans for the Ice & Fire range, including painting contests, a raffle, and other special promotions. Watch the Dark Sword website for details.

Jim and Tom would both love to know what you think of the new Ice & Fire minis, I know, and to hear what characters you’d like to see as future releases. Both sites include message boards, so head over there and let them hear what you think.

The miniatures are unpainted pewter in the 28mm wargaming scale… but if you’d like to see what Melinsandre, at least, would look like in the hands of a skilled painter, you might also want to visit Jubilant Creations at http://www.jubilantcreations.com/melisandre.html

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Historically the Giants have usually sucked on Monday nights, so tonight’s victory over Atlanta came as a relief. The Falcons are a wounded, troubled team, mind you, but even so, the G-Men scored a convincing win. For the first time all season, their offense and defense both showed up at the same game.

And congratulations to Amani Toomer, who broke one Giants all-time record tonight (Tiki Barber’s record for receptions) and tied another one (Kyle Rote’s touchdown mark). A class guy, and he’s been a clutch receiver for a long time.

So the G-Men are 4-2… again. (They were 4-2 the last three seasons as well. They like to get our hopes up before they collapse and break our hearts in the second half of the season, but maybe this year will be different).

On other fronts, Parris is on the mend, even hobbling about the house without Father’s crutch from time to time. We head down to Albuquerque tomorrow so she can get her stitches removed.

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Parris had her torn meniscus repaired down in Albuquerque yesterday.

The surgery went well, or so we were told, although the tear was a pretty bad one. Parris was groggy and in some discomfort afterwards, but did well enough on the drive home, and got up the steps and into the house on her crutches without too much difficulty. As the night wore on, however, the various painkillers she’d been given for the surgery — a demerol drip, and a local — all wore off, and the pain in her knee got worse and worse. The prescription she’d been given for pain proved to be way inadequate, and barely took the edge off her pain. By one or two in the morning, she was in agony, despite the pills… and of course, she hurt far too much to be able to sleep, or even get up the steps to the bedroom. She spent the night in her recliner in our TV room, dozing fitfully, never for long, and weeping from the pain.

This morning she’s a little better, but still not well. We finally got hold of her surgeon, and he wrote her a new prescription for a stronger painkiller. My assistant’s on his way to Albuquerque to pick it up even as I type. I can only hope that it will do the trick.

This is so screwed up. The fact that you can’t get your doctor on the phone is bad enough, but these days you can’t even get his assistant. Just an endless string of phone trees and voice mail messages. And — largely thanks to the idiotic decades-long “War on Drugs” — even when you do get a doctor, it’s like pulling teeth to get them to write presciptions for painkillers that will actually alleviate your pain. “Well, try some tylenol” seems to have become a rote response. In England, France, Canada, Australia, Ireland, and most of the rest of the civilized world, someone in pain can walk into any chemist / drugstore and buy a painkiller over the counter that is stronger and more effective than what the typical American doctor will write you as prescription.

It is also insane that so many procedures have become out-patient surgery. Parris should have spent last night in a hospital bed, with nurses and other trained professionals to watch over her and take care of her. Instead she spent the night in a recliner crying in pain, with no one to take care of her but me. You can thank the insurance companies and HMOs for that. It’s all about saving money, not about patient care.

And people still claim the American medical system is the best in the world. That’s a joke. And a cruel joke at that.

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Well, at least my teams won one of them yesterday.

If you had asked me on Friday how this week’s games would go, I would have told you that I expected the Jets to defeat Buffalo pretty easily, but that I was worried about the Giants against Philadelphia. The Bills had the worst defense in the NFL, after all, and were giving a rookie quarterback his first start to boot, while the Eagles were coming off a huge win where they scored 50+ points and would be going against a Giants D that had played one good half in three prior games.

Well, as Chris Berman likes to say, “that’s why they play the games.”

The Jets made the Bills’ rookie QB Trent Edwards look like the second coming of Johnny Unitas, while my man Chad threw two ghastly interceptions.

Come the night game, however, the Giants D looked like what a Giants D is supposed to look like. A monster game by Osi, and the entire Giants defensive line… admittedly against a banged-up Eagles team that was missing their best running back. I’ve always been a fan of defensive football, and must admit that I enjoy games like this one much more than shootouts like the Giants/ Cowboys game that opened the season. The fact that we won this one and lost that one may be part of it too, but still…

This was a sweet one. It is always sweet to beat the Eagles, of course (almost, but not quite, as sweet as it is to beat the hated Cowboys), but it was especially sweet on a day when the Mets completed a truly epic collapse.

Next weekend the Giants play the Jets, so at least one of my teams will win. Going by the way the two teams played yesterday, you’d have the figure that the Giants will be prohibitive favorites. Which probably means that the Jets will win.

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Life is magical and full of joy.

There’s nothing better than a Sunday on which both of my NFL teams win. (Well, okay, I take that back. There are a few things that are better. Finishing a book, winning a Hugo, kissing a hot babe, a new book by one of my favorite writers, a great pizza pie. Having both the Jets and Giants win is still pretty high up there, though).

Today’s games were both pretty exciting. In the morning game, the Jets had a commanding 31-13 lead and the game was well in hand. Then they decided to go into the infamous “prevent defense,” which, as every football fan knows, usually just prevents you from winning. The Dolphins came storming back and almost pulled it out, and the Jets had to recover a last moment onsides kick to hold onto the victory. They did, though. Phew.

The Giants game was even sweeter. The Redskins were leading them 17-3 at the half, and the G-Men looked thoroughly beaten. Plaxico Burress was playing as if he’d coated his hands in oleomargarine before sprinting onto the field. The second half was a different story, however. This time it was the Giants who came storming back. Plax was suddenly catching everything in sight, and the Giant defense woke up for the first time this season. It came down to the final seconds. The Skins had first and goal on the Giants one-yard line , but the defense kept ’em out of the end zone and the G-Men collected their first victory of the season.

A pizza, a Hugo, and a few hundred kisses would make this a perfect day.

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The world of high fantasy is poorer today.

James Rigney, better known to fantasy readers as Robert Jordan, has passed away. Although he had been fighting amyloidosis for several years, the news of his death still came as a shock to many, including me. He was so optimistic and determined that you had to think that if anyone could beat the disease, it would be him.

Jim was a good and gracious man, a pleasure to share a platform or a pint with, and his contributions to modern fantasy were many. His huge, ambitious WHEEL OF TIME series helped to redefine the genre, and opened many doors for the writers who followed.

He was also unfailingly generous towards other fantasists, always ready to offer them support and encouragement. My own ICE & FIRE series might never have found its audience without the cover quote that Jim was so kind as to provide, back when A GAME OF THRONES was first published. I will always be grateful to him for that.

The last time I saw Jim was at an Archon in Collinsville, Illinois. It was before his final illness. He was the convention Guest of Honor and I was the Toastmaster, and I introduced him by telling the audience that actually we were the same person. It was a gag that Jim himself had suggested in the Green Room beforehand. While I was doing the intro, and claiming credit for all his books, he slowly entered, walked up silently behind me, and stood looming over me, glowering like Zeus. We got a great laugh.

I had some great dinners with Jim and his wife Harriet there in Collinsville as well. We talked about other writers, editors, publishers, all the stuff that writers always talk about… oh, and a little about our own series as well… and Jim and Harriet invited me to visit them if I ever made it down to Charleston. Sad to say, I never did.

RIP, Jim. You will be much missed.

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Life is meaningless and has no purpose.

And my teams both suck.

This could be a very long season.

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For any Jack Vance fans out there — and if you’re not a Jack Vance fan, why the hell not? — be sure to check out my news page for the official announcement of SONGS OF THE DYING EARTH, the new Jack Vance tribute anthology that Gardner Dozois and I will be editing.

It’s a fun project, and we’ve got a great lineup of writers.

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One draft choice isn’t enough, even a first rounder.

And Belicheat himself should have been suspended for at least a few games.

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I believe I was talking about how Bill Belicheat has no honor.

Ahem.

I rest my case.

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