Shortly after Tim and I met, I could tell he was a keeper. At first, I'll admit, I thought his fiction was good, but not, you know, astounding. But, then again, I'd only read a story or two. I made the mistake of telling him I wanted to read everything he'd written.

It was then that I realized: this man has written a LOT.

Even within the first month or so we were together, I had to revise my assessment of his writing. We had a sort of honeymoon at Wiscon, where we were so lost in one another that we went to maybe one panel the entire con, and yet part of that time I lay on one bed and watched him working feverishly away on the other. I was mesmerized by the whrring clicks of his typing, the utter concentration he gave to the piece he was working on. I was (and am) deeply in love with him, yes, but I could tell that what I was seeing was not just a kind interpretation of a lover's attributes; I was watching an artist, at work, and it was breathtaking.

That story was Little Gods. I read the first scene as soon as it was done, and I was floored. Yes, he was better than good. He was brilliant. Is brilliant.

I've read nearly everything he's written since then, and some are just plain good while others blow me away. There are stories of his that I hug to my chest after I read, that I read the first scene of and bug him to finish so I know what happens next. While he was writing this last novel, Blood Engines, I'd read along behind him. Sometimes I'd hold his head and beg him to go write more, because I desperately wanted to know what happened next. Even if I wasn't engaged to marry him, even if I wasn't his friend, I'd be a fan girl. He tells really good stories. Consistently good stories.

I don't know anyone else, not personally, who works as hard at writing as Tim does. He's driven. He writes *all* the time. If, for some reason, he hasn't written in awhile, he has a physical reaction to it -- he gets twitchy, nervous, unhappy. He has to sit down and write, and then he'll feel better, but it's something he has to keep doing. He has balance, yes, but his need to write takes up a larger percentage of a healthy balance for him than it does for most of us. Even within writing, he has to have another kind of balance -- he needs stories, poems, novels, even editing to give him complete artistic fulfillment. It's a lot to keep balanced, and yet he does it. He does it well.

What I'm trying to say here, is that Tim is not only talented, he's driven. He's ambitious. He has always known that he wanted to write books, to sell books, to have his books read and loved by an audience of people beyond his peers. Someday, he hopes to support himself by writing, to write full-time.

The thing about Tim is, he's going to do that. Of that I have no doubt.

As most of you know, this week Tim sold his first novel, The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl, to Bantam. He is going to be published! This is the next big step in his career, and I'm incredibly excited and happy for him. I can't wait until the books comes out; I can't wait to thrown him his book release party!

But, you know, a part of my reaction consists of "of course Tim sold his book; there was never any doubt in my mind." Because I've always known that he would be published. Hell, I knew he'd be published before he turned 30. He's just that kind of writer.

I'm very proud of him; I've watched him work at this for the past three years, and I know: he deserves this. He worked very hard to get here. He's talented, yes, but he's also smart enough to know that talent means nothing without dedication. Without drive. He has figured out how to get to this point, and he used his considerable gifts to get here. He is a unique combination: mostly artist with a touch of businessman. He's also a really sweet guy.

I'd go into how he inspires me, how I wrote more and was motivated to write better, to push myself, because of his influence, but this is about him, not me, so I'll only mention it in passing. He's my muse.

And, yes, I consider myself very lucky, blessed and honored that he's going to marry me. I love him; he loves me. He is, as us women say, a keeper.