I should probably mention that Flytrap has agreed to publish my beloved maudlin flying dog story, "Sleeping Dogs Lie."
In honor of Bloomsday, I will tell the story of my college copy of A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man, which I needed three years in a row for various classes. The amusing part of this story is that I bought it three times ,too, because I hated that effing book so much that every semester, after I was done with it, I sold it back to the coop for the going rate of fifty cents or whatever it was.
And each year, when I realized I was going to need the damned thing again, I went to the coop and grabbed a copy off the used pile. And each time, I swear to God, it was the same copy. The second year it was the first copy I grabbed. The third year it was the second copy, because the first one I grabbed was too heavily highlighted to read.
At the end of the third year I sold it back again.
I never did make it past page 100 or so.
I broke 45K on Worldwired today, and if I keep going I may break 46. Some of it's outline notes, and I suspect I really need a Ph.D. in political science to do this book justice, but progress is being made and the characters are continuing to generate some interesting tension. I wish this book had decided to be one of the easier ones to write, but I suppose the sensation of raw, sucking, I-can't-do-this terror that I have occasionally is a good sign, as it indicates that I'm learning something, right?
Something other than a lot of Chinese history, I mean.