I just got off the phone with mroctober. He said he loved my huli jing story, “Year of the Fox,” and wants it for his So Fey anthology. Not only did he fill my ear with glowing words of praise that made me all squeaky and gleeful, but he’s officially fulfilled another writerly milestone. He’s the first editor to call me to tell me they want to buy a story!
Happy happy happy happy happy!!
Eep! dude_the is flying down today for Superbowl festivities and the house looks like a dozen skunks have been running amok through it. Must clean.
And I think I’m getting another cold. My sinuses feel baked, and my head is on the verge of little men hammering on the inside of it. Right now, I think they’re just hefting their pickaxes and stomping around in their hob-nailed boots, but there’s the impending threat of ruckus and pain hovering overhead.
“Issue 40 has fiction from Steve Mohn, Paul Meloy, David J Schwartz, Darren Speegle, Melanie Fazi, Vandana Singh and Eugie Foster. My favourites were ‘Thirst’ by Singh and a curious tale of a gifted child, ‘Running On Two Legs’ by Foster.”
–Rod MacDonal
– Re-write of the huli jing tale almost done.
– Wrote a critters critique (for your story nmsunbear)
– Started on this week’s Sci-Fiction review for Tangent. Tangent is devouring my soul. But actually, I don’t mind. I kinda like it. Nice little soul devourer.
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Happy Candlemas to one and all! Hope everyone had a fun and festive Imbolic.
Matthew regaled me with stories of his adventures in Utah. He got in to see Neil Gaimen’s Mirror Mask at SunDance, and then went up to talk to him and get his contact information. He got to rub elbows with celebrities; I got iced in with a skunk by a freak winter storm. Humph.
Also received my corrected honorable mention certificate for “Gifts Not Asked For” from the WoTF folks.
Re-writing commences apace on the huli jing tale. Two passes. Good progress. Ready to send it out to mroctober in a couple days, I believe. And it made britzkrieg and aimeepoynter cry, woohoo! Actually, I’m gratified to hear that it elicited that response from several critters. Always love it when I wrench an emotional response from my readers.
Been doing a lot of Tangent stuff. I assume it’ll be less time intensive down the road, but right now it’s taking up most of my free waking hours.
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Matthew’s home! Matthew’s home! Yippee!
Good thing too. I don’t think I could deal with another night like Sunday’s. Had a difficult time falling asleep, and then Hobkin woke me up at midnight-thirty for his snack. I dozed for twenty minutes while he snarfed it down, then woke up to find him running amok. He pried at the entertainment center doors, popping off the child lock holding them shut (I’m not impressed with that child lock), dug under the computer desk, and knocked everything he could reach–which fortunately was mostly junk mail–off the coffee table so he could investigate and shred choice pieces. He didn’t settle until I got up and did a half-dozen “skunk laps” around the living room with him. Then he crawled up beside me and we fell asleep . . . until 5AM, at which point he decided that it was the best time to bound about on me, and then pace in the kitchen impatiently awaiting his breakfast.
It was not the most restful of nights.
But Matthew’s home now. Yay!
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“Through rain, sleet, and snow” my ass. No mail service yesterday. I put a Netflix DVD in the box and they never picked it up, much less delivered anything. Fooie.
When I went out to retrieve it, I did note that it’s remarkably beautiful outside. It always is after ice storms, but this is the first one I’ve seen in Georgia. The ornamental horticulture around our front walkway is encased in ice. It’s probably not good for it, but they look so magical, encased in a layer of crystalline translucence. The holly trees also look rather strained. The weight of the ice has bent all of their branches down so they look like “weeping” tress, but they’re really pretty. Not, however, pretty enough to entice me to stay outside for very long. ‘Though at least the air was relatively warm. It’s a-thawing out there.
The folks-in-law called to make sure I was okay. They’d heard on the news of major problems in the area because of the ice storm. Told them I was camped out on the couch with Hobkin and my laptop, and we were fine. They were worried that I might have lost power. Actually, the electricity did flicker several times in the AM yesterday (I need to reset all the clocks in the house . . . again), and I know there are people in the area who are without power. But after the last time, which was the longest and scariest–probably about five minutes although it felt like fifty–it came back and stayed that way.
Matthew also phoned. I reassured him that I was fine. I really miss that hubby of mine. He’ll be back tomorrow, hurray! They were going to try to get into a Sundance showing of Neil Gaimen’s Mirror Mask. I was amused that I’ve been reading about Gaimen’s adventures at Sundance on his officialgaiman blog.
I’ve now seen Eat Drink Man Woman, Mona Lisa Smile, and Rain Main. I’d forgotten that I’ve got very limited appetite for chick flicks. I need something with explosions or vampires in it now.
Accomplished:
X – Review written of Scifiction story, “A Man of Light” by Jeffrey Ford, for Tangent
X – Wrote a Critters critiques (for your story, aimeepoynter).
Still to do:
– Write another Critters critique.
– Rewrite of my huli jing story. So far, the Critters commentary has been generally positive. I’m thinking the overhaul process shouldn’t be too onerous.
It is raining ice outside. As in there’s a transparent, treacherous, slippery layer of frigid water coating our walkway and driveway that fell from the sky. It’s frigging Georgia! Ice has no business accumulating outside. It can clink in tall glasses of mint julep, enclose cucumber sandwiches in picnic coolers, and form spheres of fruit-flavored yumminess, but it should NOT shower from the heavens!
What is the world coming to?
But, as the patter of ice hurtles from above and strikes the ground outside, I sit with a warm skunk cuddled at my side, Saturday morning cartoons blaring on the television, and a nice pot of Iron Buddha Oolong brewing. It could be worse. It’s a good day to spend camped out on the couch. I might venture out to check the mail, but then again, maybe I won’t.
I hope Matthew is staying warm in Utah.
Still to do:
– Write review for Scifiction story, “A Man of Light” by Jeffrey Ford, for Tangent
– Write Critters critiques (for your story, aimeepoynter, and yours nmsunbear).
– Start pondering rewrite of my huli jing story.
The new Tangent site is up. Content is still sketchy, but I’m so glad the horrible page with all the wonky errors is gone. (If you click on the link and you still get the error page, chances are the new site hasn’t propagated to you yet. Give it another day or two.) I should probably write an editorial. Something to do tomorrow, I think. The new site is very slick. I’m in awe of all the work the webmistress, Jen, put into it.
Also, saw my banner ad for Ascendancy of Blood is up at Lit Haven, courtesy sdowens. I made it all by myself–the banner–when I probably ought to have been writing. Anyway, shiny banner goodness:
Can’t sleep without Matthew in the house. Cleverly, I did not plan for this when I decided to wean myself off caffeine. Thought to myself the whole morning “Self, I have this terrible headache. I wonder why the Aleve I took isn’t making the pain go away?” Which, of course, illustrates how poorly my brain was functioning. Got some green tea in me after lunch, realized as the first tendrils of caffeinated goodness entered my bloodstream that I needed more and fixed myself an extra-strong cup of coffee. The afternoon was better. Still, thank Jeebus it’s the weekend.
I putzed about customizing my LJ layout when I was tired of lying with my eyes open in the darkness last night/this morning. This whole paid account thing is very seductive with its “lookie, you can make me all shiny and personalized!” and “lookit all the little pictures!” But I’m having issues with my new layout and my iframe setup from my homepage link. Maybe I’ll code my own layout to stick into JavaScript. That should get me through the weekend. Of course, I could be doing something productive with my time instead–like writing. Or sleeping.
Hobkin was at first perplexed as to why we were “sleeping” upright in the computer chair, instead of prone under the covers, but he adapted. When I finally felt tired enough to go lie down, he didn’t even flick his tail when I relocated us.
Got a note back from Nathan, my Scrybe Press editor. He said he’d do his best to get Inspirations End/Still My Beating Heart out in time for Fantasm, and maybe even with a full color, glossy cover. Oooo.
Words: 100. Stupid novel.
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Drove Matthew to the airport this afternoon. Snapped a picture of Matthew and Hobkin napping together to cheer me up until Matthew gets back:
I think Hobkin’s beginning to feel the stirrings of Spring Fever. He’s been extra frisky. And yesterday he was intent upon wrestling my arm into submission. While my obstreperous limb was being thrashed, I took a picture of the fierce mêlée. I think Hobkin was offended by the flash. Or maybe it was my giggling. Continue reading
Packing Matthew up for Utah. He’s going off to emcee the TromaDance film festival. (TromaDance, sponsored by Troma Films, is one of the You-name-it-dance glut of independent film screenings at Salt Lake City and Park City that Robert Redford spawned with SunDance.) He’s also going to do a commentary track for the DVD of Roadside Attraction, one of the shorts featured in Dragon*Con’s 2004 Film Festival. Matthew gets to party with all the film happenings that are going on this week and rub elbows with film luminaries, and I can’t go because I have to work. Plus Hobkin would probably blow a fuzzy gasket if we sent him off to skunk camp again so soon after Christmas. Still, fooie.
So it’s going to be just Hobkin and me this weekend. I hope to get a goodly chunk of writing done. Realistically, I suspect there will be some vegging before the mass-entertainment altar of viewing, and unproductive fiddling and surfing on Mr. Computer. Maybe some napping too. I’ve also adjusted our Netflix list so as to get all the chick flicks this weekend that Matthew keeps pushing down the queue.
Words: 500. The novel continues to kick my ass. Thinking about switching gears again and working on a short piece. I seem to have a brain barrier erected against completing longer works. Dammit.
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