Category Archives: LJ

Woke up this morning at 7 to Hobkin demanding his breakfast. Bleary eyed and groggy I fully intended to feed him and then go back to sleep. Unfortunately, once I wake up in the AM, it’s nearly impossible for me to fall asleep again. So I fed him and went back to bed, and proceeded to toss and turn for the next hour. Looks like I’m up. Now he’s asleep under his hutch, content with his full tummy and I’m wide awake. Sigh. Maybe I’ll have some coffee.

Had a lovely evening with britzkrieg and her S.O. Jaime last night. Much munchie snacking and excellent conversation. They have a beautiful house with the most decadent backyard populated by plump, playful squirrels and a colorful array of birds. It was just the sort of change of pace that I needed. Hope to get together with them again soon.

Feeling a bit more positive about the whole writing thing. I did 500 words this morning on a brand new fairy tale. Yep, still writing fairy tales, but I’m okay with it. It’s set in India and I did a bunch of research on it before I began. I expect to have it completed before the end of the weekend. It should be short.

Plan to write a couple more critiques this AM before I wake Matthew up, so off I go.

Happy Lost Sock Memorial Day, everyone!

Did about eight critiques on Critters. Got several more ear-marked for today or tomorrow (including yours britzkrieg!) Got a “thank you” note back from one of the people whose stories I critiqued that basically said “thanks but I don’t do rewrites.” WTF? What’s the point of using a critique group if you don’t rewrite? And this whole “I don’t do rewrites” thing is really hitting my eyes-rolling reflex in any case. I mean are there any professional writers who don’t appreciate the value of a rewrite? *snort*

In other news, Hobkin was quite a wild thing this morning. After breakfast he pawed at my legs wanting to get picked up, and then when I picked him up, he’d wiggle and squirm until I put him down. Lather, rinse, repeat. And once when I put him down, as soon as his paws hit the carpet he went charging forward willy-nilly right into the coffee table, bonk. Silly animal. Did that knock some sense into him? No, of course not. He went charging around the house, stomping and tail up. He pulled down some printouts and shredded a manuscript page before I rescued it, tugged at my dangling purse strap so it fell off the table for him to savage, and dug at the entertainment center, trying to open the doors we’ve got a baby lock on. But eventually he tuckered himself out, came to me to get picked up, and flopped asleep. So now I’m pinned at the computer with him snoring in my lap. He looks like a fuzzy little angel now. I can hardly believe he was such a demon beastie just a short while ago. Heh.

Happy Furry Day and Lost Sock Day everyone!

I’ve decided to hold off on trying to write anything new for a couple days. In the interim, I’ll critique a bunch of stories on Critters and get my MPC count back in the positive numbers (well, probably number, singular). I’m hoping that focusing on other people’s technique–both successes and failures–will get my mind off the dissatisfaction I’m having with my own.

Actually, on the subject of critiquing stories, I think one of the best things I’ve done for my writing is join Critters. A lot of times the advice isn’t all that useful, or it’s contradictory, but sometimes it’s dead on. And regardless, it’s helped me to acquire a nice, tough skin when it comes to feedback and rejection, something every writer needs to have. Plus, it gives me something writing-oriented to do when I can’t manage to get my writing gears revved up. A productive diversion. Yepper.

Well, actually, I don’t think it’s technically writer’s block because I’m still cranking out words. But I’m terribly dissatisfied with most of the words that’re coming out. Plus I think my muse is stuck in fairy tale land. I appear to have fixated on the children’s fairy tale/folktale shtick. And, while I really do love those, I’m kind of feeling like I ought to be working on other stuff and those other words just aren’t coming.

Part of my dissatisfaction is the dearth of top tier children’s markets. I’ve whined about this before, but with adult-audience stories, there’s so many top markets that as soon as I finish a story–from zero draft to final–there’s someplace I can send it. But I’ve been cranking out one 2000-word fairy tale every one to two weeks, and no first ranked children’s market has that fast a turnover rate. And there’s lots fewer of them in any case. Guess there are worse things in the world than having more stories written than markets for them, but I don’t feel like I’m being productive if what I write isn’t circulating in the marketplace, trying to find a home. Contributing to the backlog makes me twitchy and twitches make my muse skittish.

I’m also good and blocked on two longer works: my novel and my cyberpunk novella. Not to mention a handful of short stories I started that then petered out. Some of those I may pick up again, but a couple I can’t stand to look at.

I dunno, maybe I should just count my blessings and write another half a dozen children’s fairy tales. Maybe I don’t have the focus right now to produce longer, more insightful works and should be happy that I’m completing anything.

I’m also feeling the recent round of rejections more keenly than I usually do. Most of the time I can just shrug and toss the declined manuscript to the next market, but this is one of the longer stretches, numerically, that I’ve gone without an acceptance since I started selling. It’s not the longest, and it’s certainly not the longest if I calculate it by length of time (there was nearly a year between my first sale and my second). But for some reason, it’s weighing more heavily on my anxiety meter.

I suspect my head’s just not in a good place right now. The meds are certainly throwing me for a loop. I’m undoubtedly stressing over nothing and should just write–markets, rejections, and subject matter be damned. But that still doesn’t alleviate the stressing.

The weekend was fantastic. Salome was great. I adore Oscar Wilde. And before the show we went to the Roasted Garlic for tapas. There’s a Roasted Garlic like four minutes away from us that we’d never been to before. Neat.

And we went to the Botanical Gardens yesterday, and to the vegan Chinese restaurant for dinner (used to be called “Sam’s Gourmet,” it how has new management and is called “Little China”) after that. The Botanical Gardens were beautiful. A part of me has the urge to wax poetic here, but another part of me is too despondent to make the effort. I’m going with despondent me. Probably just as well as I have a feeling any words I try to string together right now would be clunky at best.

It was a lovely weekend and I should be refreshed and rejuvenited. But I’m not.

Instead, I’m having post-holiday blues. Doldrums or something. Or maybe it’s the meds screwing with my emotional state again. Started a new one this week: methotrexate. It has the unfortunate side effect of making me a bit nauseous. Lovely. It also has other side effects that require me to go in for blood tests every four months. And I can’t drink alcohol anymore. Not a biggie, as I don’t drink all that much now, and my doctor said I could still have a little bit as long as I didn’t tell him about it, but still annoying. Oh, and it’s a teratogenic agent, so no children for me. But, since I’m avowedly childfree anyway, that’s hardly a concern. It also, however, lists mood alterations as a possible side effect. And I’m still on the Prednisone, which isn’t doing wonderful things for my mental state either. Great.

I feel surly and depressed. And queasy. Mustn’t forget queasy.

Writing stats:
Blah. Finished a 2000-word re-imagining of a classic Indian fairy tale. Matthew didn’t like it much. Not sure what to do with it. Probably will just throw it up on Critters and let the reviewers have at it.

No new rejections or acceptances over the weekend, although I’m expecting some to come in this month. Still jonsing for another sale. It’s like an addiction is what it is. Addictions, no matter what their shape, are uncomfortable.

I should work on a fantasy piece I made a beginning on, but I don’t feel like doing much of anything aside from feeling snappish and sorry for myself.

Grumble. Stupid brain.

It is indeed Lumpy Rug Day. But this is also the weekend that Matthew and I are celebrating our anniversary. The date was actually last week, but as we had house guests, we opted to postpone it to this week.

Yesterday, we went to Abbay (3375 Buford Highway Suite 1050, Atlanta–404.321.5808), an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner. Very yummy. We’ve had African food once before–I think in California–and knew there were places around the city but hadn’t hunted one down yet. Love their sponge bread.

We drove to dinner during the beginning of last night’s thunderstorm and we were right on the edge of it, driving just fast enough to stay out of the leading edge as long as we didn’t hit a stop light. As we encountered several of those, the edge would overtake us, slamming the car with this deluge of big, fat raindrops. When the light turned green, we’d drive out of it. We turned it into a leapfrog sort of game, trying to stay ahead of the storm, with it overtaking us and us driving out of it in turns. But when we got to the restaurant, we were sure we’d have to run for cover, but we seemed to have sheered out of the perimeter of it.

Not so for dessert.

We decided to have Cheesecake Factory cheesecake. This wall of rain hit just as we were pulling into the Northpointe Mall parking lot. Got totally soaked and windswept running in. Guess that ole storm was saving up just for us. The wait for seating at the CF was 45-60 min. so we got a couple slices to go, and drove home to enjoy it with our spastic skunk. (Hobkin got a couple mouthfuls of whipped cream.) Then we completed our evening with a late night show of X-2: X-Men United which was thoroughly enjoyable, although my suspension of disbelief got a bit strained towards the end.

Today, we woke up early to go up north to the Kangaroo Conservation Center where they have the “largest kangaroo collection outside of Australia.” It was wonderful. The folks there have their priorities down: kangas first, people afterward. Acres and acres of beautiful land for them to roam about on in big, social mobs (many kangas are called a “mob”). They had a motorized tour, and then a hands-on information center where we got to pet the kangas in a controlled environment. Just a lovely, lovely time. I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn’t been there.

Then we had lunch at the Italian piano bar around the corner from us, “Altobelli’s” and tonight we’re going to see Salome at the Shakespeare Tavern. We’re not sure what we’re doing tomorrow. Depends on how wide the influences of Music Midtown are. I’d like to go to the Botanical Gardens, but not if it’s going to be insane.

This is turning out to be a truly wonderful weekend.

dude_the‘s leaving today. His plane departs late this afternoon. Time for everyone to return to their regularly scheduled routines. Pook.

We went to the Shakespeare Tavern last night to see a non-Shakespeare play: Murder in the Cathedral by T.S. Eliot. About the martyrdom of Thomas Becket, I didn’t realize it was going to be a musical. *Blink* It was, however, much better as a musical than it would have been as a straight reading of T.S. Eliot. The first act was a little slow, but the second act made up for it. And I liked the dancing.

Next week, I believe, we’re going to see their production of Salome which will also have dancing in it, I assume. Not a Shakespeare play again. And the Tavern has been branching out with the whole song and dance thing of late. Coolness.

When we got home, we pulled out a bunch of DVDs to watch. I only made it through My Man Godfrey, a movie I’ve always loved, but forget that I’ve seen until I watch the opening again. Hmm. My brain is strange. Matthew and dude_the may have also watched The Man Who Knew Too Little and Support Your Local Sheriff. Actually, I’m certain they watched the former as I was still awakeish for some of Too Little but am not so sure ’bout the latter.

Going to wake them both up in a couple hours. Early for them (I’m surrounded by night critters), but dude_the needs to get back into a diurnal routine for work next week. Maybe we’ll go out to The Flying Biscuit for breakfast. Scrambled Tofu, yum.

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Drove Nick to the airport on Thursday so he could fly back to Florida. Nick’s gone. Pook. dude_the is still here though. Hurray! Everyone’s asleep. Even Hobkin’s curled up in a fuzzy oval in my lap. Mornings are pretty solitary times for me, even when the house is full.

I’m feeling much better today. My Rheumatologist doubled my Prednisone dosage and my flare-up seems to be receding. Although I have the twitches from the upped meds. Trade-offs.

I was puttering around with some of the pix people took at Fantasm of me.

Here’s one that that Al Cantrell took of me and Cloei, webmistress of the Nekkid Nerds website. Cloei’s a real sweetie and during my first Fantasm when I was all scared and shy, she hung out with me and eased my “bunch of strangers all around me, what do I say, what do I do?” stressing.

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Sent a note to Jane Jewell and Andrew Burt (Critter captain and new VP of the SFWA) asking about how to get my info updated in the SFWA directory, got a note from Andrew confirming that there’s a bug in the MPC process and letting me know that he’s re-queued my story to go up next week, and will call my Rhumatologist back in half an hour. We played phone tag all yesterday, but the nurse said there were things we could do to treat me immediately for my flare-up.

I’m just feeling better in general overall today. But having some control over various annoyances and issues really does help. Plus I started feeling much better yesterday after I took my dose of Prednisone. I think I might be allergic to the muscle relaxants my neurologist gave me for my TOS, which would be irksome, but would also explain my flare-up. I’m having systemic allergic symptoms, and the only thing I’ve been injesting that’s new are those.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Stupid physiology.