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

we're on the road and we're gunning for the buddha

I'm too stubborn to close the windows yet, because I like the air. But I am sitting on the futon-on-the-floor (really need to buy another frame soonish so I can start calling it "the couch" again; that's shorter) with Ethel in my lap. I am wearing fuzzy socks, a turtleneck, a flannel shirt (the purple and green one; it is the most dyketastic shirt the world has ever known) and I have a throw over my toes and the comforter wrapped around me.

I am a silly Bear.

I finished the first read-through of Undertow and the entering of Anne's line-edits just fifteen minutes ago. She went light on me, so it only took about two days, and I was distracted for large parts of that.

Tomorrow, I have to start revising to the actual, you know, notes. Which means I will be doing a good deal of thrashing in the wire for the next week or so. (It shouldn't take too long; the edits are light, and I am restless to start writing "Chatoyant," and perhaps "Upon Deaf Ears," and then there are those other short stories to consider.)

If you get the idea that I chant my pending projects softly to myself as a reminder, you wouldn't be far wrong. I like lists; they make things seem a little more orderly and manageable, and this is anything but a manageable business.

Ooo. I just realized, Carnival will be out in less than two months.

I am looking forward to seeing what y'all make of this one.

And on that note, I'd rather ought to crawl into my warm and comfy bed.
Tags: revision wingeing
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded