January 9th, 2007

froud magician

Timmy's Down The Well!

So I was awakened this morning by a small grey furry person in full OH MY GOD THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE mode. Miaowing pathetically, digging at the comforter, pulling my hair, climbing under the covers to put her whiskers and nose in the small of my back. You name it.

Normally, I would just have hit her with a pillow, but this seemed above and beyond the call of "Mom, I want to steal your warm spot."

Anyway, got up, wandered around, looked for fires and earthquakes and serial killers and big dogs, put water in her water dish, determined that my limited human senses were inadequate to the task and if it was a tidal wave I'd know about it when the foundations washed away, and tried to go back to sleep.

Heh. Figure the odds.

I wonder if the problem is just that it's actually cold out there for a change.

Anyway, I'm up. Might as well warm up the coffee and try to write something. Until the tsunami comes.
comics bone stupid stupid rat creatures

a black spider dancing on top of his eye

Man, the small press does not fuck around. I have the page proofs for New Amsterdam already. (Sorry about the delay in "Lucifugous," by the way. Regular service will resume tomorrow.)

Guess I'd better get on that. As soon as I write this slapfight between Dust and Azrael. And a new bio for Bantam Spectra, since I don't live in Las Vegas anymore.

I've got a pint bottle on Jameson's, a pot of jasmine tea, and a bag of potato chips.

Very little can stop me now.

I am however beginning to wonder if my goal of reading 100 books in 2007 was realistic.

Unless I can count my own?

.
writing rengeek stratford man

it's snowing in cleveland i'm no one to tell her we lose all the best things to time

May I just fucking say that it's bad enough that our sociopathic narcissist of a president's new Iraq policy is "send a couple more battalions to die," but does he have to announce it in such a way as to interfere with my long-anticipated Wednesday night TV?

I mean, seriously, if I have to put up with this bastard's delusions of grandeur, I want my goddamned bread and circuses. Thank you, drive through.

Progress notes for 9 January 2007

dust

New Words:  752
Total Words: 16,288
Words for the Year: 13,356
Pages: 80
Deadline: Sometime in June or July, I'm guessing
Reason for stopping: quota, need to figure out what the bargain is, need to go work on the galleys.


Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
16,288 / 110,000
(14.8%)


Stimulants:  chai
Exercise: a nice long walk
Songs mutilated: I need, I think, a wrist brace. Because I do not think the G chord is meant to hurt so much.  
Mammalian assistance: The cat is gunning to become a cat sausage. For this, I pay a pet deposit?
Mail:

New Amsterdam page proofs.

rarelytame likes Blood and Iron a lot, and the Jenny books not so much. (I wouldn't normally link this, so much, but she sent me the link and it's all incisive and stuff.)

Today's words Word don't know:  Azrael, coatsleeves,
Darling du Jour: "...in the midst of life support we are in death, o my brother." 
Mean Things: Oh dear. This appears to be the plot.
Tyop du Jour: He plattered himself that he could. (or) meating Azrael halfway.
Jury-rigging: Hurmity. I wonder what happens next.

There's always one more quirk in the character: Okay, it may have taken me the better part of a day to conjure Azrael, but oh, I loff him so. He is just more proof of the old truism, the Devil gets all the best lines.

Lucifer is over in his books sulking prettily, even now.

Other writing-related work: bio, and now proofs.
Books in progress: Liz Williams, Snake Agent; Phyllis Ann Karr, The Arthurian Companion
The glamour!: I took the garbage out. *g*