it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

  • Mood:
  • Music:

I've got a blues band in the back and a beautician at the wheel.

So, woke up this morning actually feeling like writing for the first time since sometime in June. Course, I have three novels to crit and a fortnight of double-super-sekrit-overtime to put in before I can actually start working on Carnival again. Well, I could start on it. But that would be dumb.

For those of you engaged in the Imposter Syndrome Deathwatch, this did take a pretty hefty chip off it. Or will, when it finally sinks in. I still have nightmares about getting a phone call informing me that I never graduated high school and I have to go back, though, so don't hold your breath.

Anyway, I think the pre-Campbell stress was getting to me more than I was acknowledging, considering how much I've been disliking the process of putting words on paper for the last month or so. I'm still not saying the B-word, but I'm kind of excited about getting back to Michelangelo, Vincent, Lesa, and those knotty personal problems of theirs--the ones that don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.

Of course, the trick now is not to go from shiny new hotness to old and broken immediately. *g* So I'm just hoping I stay ten feet tall and bulletproof long enough to get through Carnival in one piece, because it's the sort of book that seems to require ten feet tall and bulletproof. And damned if I know why: when I look at the book from the outside, there's nothing about it that should be pushing my skill set... and yet, it's pushing it hard.

In any case, I'm glad to be excited about this book. It's so much more fun to write books when one is excited about them. The plan is to start writing at it again on or around the 20th, which gets me past all the crap that I need to do between now and then without the added drain of a novel. And then, by gum--

Which reminds me, I'd like to congratulate all the Hugo and associated-award winners (with special attention to Kelly Link, Ellen Datlow, and autopope) and condole those unjustly robbed, especially those unjustly robbed by me (with special attention to mabfanbenrosenbaum, cherylmorgan, autopope, Christopher Rowe, Jim Kelly, and David Moles).

I fully expect to burst into tears when the plaque arrives. Y'all have had me sniffling for the past 24 hours and some.

In other news: SFF? Still dead. In case you were checking.

Progress notes for 16 August 2005:

Books in progress, but not at all quickly: Richard Overy, Russia's War: A History of the Soviet War Effort, 1941-1945; Peter Watts, Blindsight; Jaroslav Pelikan, Whose Bible Is It?
Books read: Kathryn Allen, The Middlemost Child; Jack Kerouac, On the Road;
Partial Manuscripts Read: Sarah Monette, The Weight of Memory; Amber Van Dyk, Red Means GO!
Tags: carnival, lives of unparalleled glamour, sff prodom wank
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