Today is a deathmarch day. Today is the day the submission draft of Chill gets finalized and sent in.

Expect random deathmarch wibbling here and on Twitter pretty much all day.

So my plans to not leave the house under any circumstances today failed--I had to go sign some papers and while I was out I decided that I needed *some* food in the house--but I am 1028 words into this death-mosey, and progressing. We're well into the climactic space battle, and things just went from bad to worse.

Now if I could just stop being angst-filled while waiting to hear back on the apartment application...

2300 words. One more scene to write: just the denouement.

OMG, so nearly there.

Glendower: I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man;
         But will they come when you do call for them?

        --William Shakespeare, Henry IV part I, Act III scene i

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There. Just sent a submission draft of Chill to agent, editor, and agent's adorable flunky. The freaking thing is officially off my desk until revision notes come back.

I can't remember when I was this glad to see the back of a book. And I'm really not sure it's any good, but at least it's done.

And I am officially out of work until the revision letter for The Sea thy Mistress gets here. (I was actually kind of hoping I might see it in the first half of this month, but such is not to be.) Basically, right now I'm waiting for Tor and the Maass agency to get the contracts for the next two Iskryne books sorted, and I'm waiting for three or four people to pay me for work done last year, and I'm waiting for the editorial letter for TStM to arrive so I can fix it and return it and hopefully get paid, and then even more hopefully secure a new contract with Tor, and I'm waiting for the revision letter on Chill so I can fix that and return it and also get paid.

So, um. We're a bit on lean times around here until some of this money comes in.

HOWEVER, I did just find out that future-roomate Alisa and I got the apartment we applied for, so I have a place to live! Yay!

So now I make chicken masaman curry and gibber for a while. And--despite being slightly broke--I might just maybe go buy myself a cheap bottle of scotch as my official book-finishing present, because I think I will have scotch and chocolate for dessert tonight, in celebration.

Which means nothing to do for the rest of the week except packing and doing my part of getting "Lucky Day" ready to go live on Sunday.

Thank God. I think it's time for a little post-novel ennui around here, and I still have the last level of Auditorium to beat, by God.

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State of the Honeydew, 2009

Revise Chill
Revise The Sea thy Mistress
Revise One-Eyed Jack and The Suicide King
Write either An Apprentice to Elves or A Reckoning of Men (with truepenny) (or at least get healthily started on it.)
Shadow Unit S3
Write Grail
Revise the blind cave mermaid story
Revise "The Horrid Glory of its Wings"
Write "Smile" (Bone Garden) (started)
Write "On Safari in R'lyeh and Carcosa with Gun and Camera."

via ginmar:

NAACP National calls for Prop 8 to be overturned.

Money shot: The NAACP's mission is to help create a society where all Americans have equal protection and opportunity under the law.

I believe in a just society, where a person's opportunities for success and protection from oppression will not be mitigated by social class, gender, race, sexual orientation, ableness, religion, ethnicity, or any other intrinsic characteristic.

We're all in this together, guys.

Boston Molasses Disaster of 1919.

Not to be confused with the London Beer Flood.