"What's it like when it gets icy?" I asked, seeking some kind of reassurance.
"Absolutely treacherous," he said, with relish.
American Gods has been nominated for a BSFA award this year, as best novel. I'm so proud I could pop. (Getting awards, as I said somewhere else on this blogger, you learn quickly - especially if you judge them - are just horseraces, and don't mean much. Being nominated for awards, however, is really pleasant, and means you wrote something people thinik is worthy of recognition.)