November 12th, 2006

bear by san

Spectra sent me two advance copies of Carnival

...and apparently somebody swiped them from the lobby. Charming; I suspect one of my new neighbors is to blame, as there are reports of some other things going missing recently.

Anyway, I'll get the contract copies soon enough. But. That does mean Carnival is real; it exists; and will be in stores soon. The official release date it Nov. 28th, but things do tend to turn up early. So, yanno, it can't hurt to check. Or ask if they're floating around out back. Or pre-order if they don't have it. Ahem.

I'm really excited about this one. I mean, really, really excited about this one. It's the first novel of mine to be published close enough to being written that I feel like it's a fair current indicator of the state of my writing skills, for one thing, and for another, it's very dear to my heart. (I love all of my children, but there are some I love more than others, and I think I nearly got this one right.)

In other news, I'm up, the coffee is on, I've added my WFC loot to my LibraryThing (LibraryThing *loff*, and thank you northmen for the most useful word in the English language, to wit, "thing."), and I'm about to feed the cat so she leaves me alone for a while and go see just how much of "Chatoyant" I can finish in one day, as I've got the plot figured out and now I just need to write the damned thing. It would be nice to finish, wouldn't it? (Of course, then I need to revise, because it's horribly disjointed right now and I need to figure out a way to get two offstage characters more present early on, but that's all diddling if I can just get a bloody draft.)

Also, if I finish the draft, I can clean the apartment, which badly needs it (yes, I'm far enough gone to use cleaning as a reward, don't ask) and watch a movie tomorrow guilt-free.

Right, time to quit stalling. And yes, I am stalling.

five, four, three, two--

bear by san

Julie Phillips on Weekend Edition

Host Andrea Seabrook speaks with journalist and author Julie Phillips about her latest biography James Tiptree, Jr. The Double Life of Alice B. Sheldon. Tiptree, a contemporary of science fiction writers Philip K. Dick and Ursula K. Le Guin, was hailed for his cool masculine style. Only Tiptree lead a fantasy life of his own - he was really a she - masking her true identity from her readers for nearly a decade. (7:07)
  • Current Mood
    quixotic Weekend Edition
david bowie black tie - sosostris2012

13, 871 words and no end in sight.

8 or 10 scenes to go.

On the other hand, I am developing a deeply sardonic version of "Leaving on a Jet Plane," because apparently that song offends me too strongly to be left undeconstructed. It makes me want to smack that lying narrator right in the lying mouth.

So what comes out is kind of... acoustic cowpunk, or something, as was06066 once memorably described The Cowboy Junkies.

Except, you know, unlike The Cowboy Junkies, I suck.
bear by san

Looks like I'm in for an exciting summer:

Undertow is available for pre-order on Amazon. And, of course, you can always swipe the ISBN and take it to your local bookshop.

And, per a post to muncle, AOL is making Man From Uncle episodes available online. See here for details

I just watched Trainspotting and Velvet Goldmine**, because I am bored with this story a lot*. I wonder if Netflix thinks I'm fixated on Ewan McGregor's penis***.



*In my defense, I am up to 15K, and pushing on now that I have had my break, as despite the utter blackness outside***** it is in fact still early.

**Velvet Goldmine also costars Jonathan Rhys-Meyers' penis, although in a supporting role.

***Jim Osterberg is hotter than Ewan McGregor pretending to be Jim Osterberg. Much, much hotter. There, I said it.****

****And it's true.

*****And my butt hurting from sitting on the floor: I really need to buy furniture, as my bones are too old for this Bohemian lifestyle
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  • Current Mood
    tired tired
  • Tags
bear by san

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Pajamas: check
Bed made up comfy with extra pillows: check
Pot of Imperial Russian Tea: check
Laptop relocated to bed: check
Bear relocated to bed: check
Radio Paradise playing good music: check

Current wordcount: 15,750 16,266 16,516 16,928
Target wordcount: ?

Commencing operation all-nighter, sir. This sucker is going down.

ETA: Or perhaps not. Dammit. As apparently I have hit a plot snag again. *ponders*