Geese Overhead As I Write This...
Writers needing a kick in the pants, go read pattytempleton's blogpost.
It was so motivating, but I can't do anything about it because, sigh, I AM AT WORK. Tonight I promised the Girl Detective I would clean the guest bathroom, for she has a craft/art show tomorrow at her house and, understandably, would appreciate a sweet-smelling and sanitary euphemism.
Sidenote: WHY WAS EVERYBODY AND THEIR COUSIN BORN IN NOVEMBER? I am so behind. I need to write multi-multi-letters.
Did I tell you I received Bek's illustrations for How to Flirt in Faerieland and Other Wild Rhymes? Did I tell you they were GORGEOUS? No? Well! I'm tellin' ya!
I also want to tell you about Delia Sherman's FREEDOM MAZE, and about Terri-Lynne DeFino's FINDER, but I can't now. Too many people in the store to give them my full attention. Maybe a whole Black Gate blog devoted to a review? They are an ODDLY WELL-PAIRED couple of books.
And then, so long as themes of slavery, racism and privilege are resounding throughout your literature chambers, you might as well catch, "Give Me The Banjo," a documentary I saw part of last night on PBS. Steve Martin has magic hands.
And now I am really, really thinking I ought to find out more about the Carolina Chocolate Drops. Pardon me while I Google...
http://www.carolinachocolatedrops.com/
OOH! LOTS OF CDS I MUST HAVE!!!
On another note entirely, I still want to run away with that tri-color beech tree on the corner of Sherman and Bothwell. The last two days as I've passed it, the owner of the house has come out, ostensibly to rake some leaves or bring in groceries, but I know. I know she really suspects that I am going to uproot that magnificent giant of glory and PUT IT IN MY BACKPACK!
I should really work.
I have the quitting-work-and-leaving-the-state equivalent to senioritis. Must I REALLY bag up those dollar books? REALLY?
Yes. It is honorable. And I need the money. Another day, another dollar. Someday soon, I will write.
Monday, I will write.
***
Oh. This. This morning as I (continue to, forever, it seems - if Samu were the sort to get irritated, how very IRRITATED he would be, am bad book-reading partner) read The Once and Future King:
"Morals are difficult things to talk about, but what has happened is that we have invented a moral sense, which is rotting now that we can't give it employment. And when a moral sense begins to rot it is worse than when you had none. I suppose that all endeavors which are directed to a purely worldly end, as my famous Civilization was, contain within themselves the germs of their own corruption."
***
It was so motivating, but I can't do anything about it because, sigh, I AM AT WORK. Tonight I promised the Girl Detective I would clean the guest bathroom, for she has a craft/art show tomorrow at her house and, understandably, would appreciate a sweet-smelling and sanitary euphemism.
Sidenote: WHY WAS EVERYBODY AND THEIR COUSIN BORN IN NOVEMBER? I am so behind. I need to write multi-multi-letters.
Did I tell you I received Bek's illustrations for How to Flirt in Faerieland and Other Wild Rhymes? Did I tell you they were GORGEOUS? No? Well! I'm tellin' ya!
I also want to tell you about Delia Sherman's FREEDOM MAZE, and about Terri-Lynne DeFino's FINDER, but I can't now. Too many people in the store to give them my full attention. Maybe a whole Black Gate blog devoted to a review? They are an ODDLY WELL-PAIRED couple of books.
And then, so long as themes of slavery, racism and privilege are resounding throughout your literature chambers, you might as well catch, "Give Me The Banjo," a documentary I saw part of last night on PBS. Steve Martin has magic hands.
And now I am really, really thinking I ought to find out more about the Carolina Chocolate Drops. Pardon me while I Google...
http://www.carolinachocolatedrops.com/
OOH! LOTS OF CDS I MUST HAVE!!!
On another note entirely, I still want to run away with that tri-color beech tree on the corner of Sherman and Bothwell. The last two days as I've passed it, the owner of the house has come out, ostensibly to rake some leaves or bring in groceries, but I know. I know she really suspects that I am going to uproot that magnificent giant of glory and PUT IT IN MY BACKPACK!
I should really work.
I have the quitting-work-and-leaving-the-state equivalent to senioritis. Must I REALLY bag up those dollar books? REALLY?
Yes. It is honorable. And I need the money. Another day, another dollar. Someday soon, I will write.
Monday, I will write.
***
Oh. This. This morning as I (continue to, forever, it seems - if Samu were the sort to get irritated, how very IRRITATED he would be, am bad book-reading partner) read The Once and Future King:
"Morals are difficult things to talk about, but what has happened is that we have invented a moral sense, which is rotting now that we can't give it employment. And when a moral sense begins to rot it is worse than when you had none. I suppose that all endeavors which are directed to a purely worldly end, as my famous Civilization was, contain within themselves the germs of their own corruption."
***