Yesterday did indeed go entirely off the rails, and it refused to be shoved back on. Nothing was written. There was email with Bill Schafer regarding the cover of A is for Alien and with Anne Sowards regarding the cover of The Red Tree. New contracts arrived (details TBA), and I had to spend some time with them. There was deliberation over artists ( Read more... )

The anger's still here, and there's no way I'm fit to write an actual entry. So, instead, I'll just post five more of the photos from the evening of July 7th (behind the cut), though I think I posted the best ones on Tuesday. There's not much to be said for yesterday, anyway. It was hot. I didn't write. Spooky broke a tooth. I spent a great deal of ( Read more... )

So, I didn't set out yesterday not to write. I had every intention of writing at least a thousand words. At least. But. The distractions -- the heat, some minor pain, insecurity about the book, and then the asshole from Cox Cable. On the latter, the least excusable (least excusable that I let it ruin my day, I mean) of the lot. After a month ( Read more... )

Today is mine and Spooky's 6th anniversary. And we both forgot until this ayem, when I remembered. We met, face to face, while I was MCing Convergence 5 in New Orleans in 1999 (ah, goth love), and thereafter we began spending a lot of time together. But we didn't really hook up until this date in 2002. That's the date from which we count the ( Read more... )

Yesterday, I wrote 1,103 words on Chapter Two of The Red Tree. Not a stunning writing day, but a decent one. Today, though...well...beginning last night...I realized I'm just not going to be up to writing today. It's just not...there. I don't know if this is exhaustion, depression, or relief, or if I'm just a little freaked out that we are actually ( Read more... )

Yesterday. Like a bruise. Like a smudge. Like a stain. I don't know. While I was trying to get my LJ entry posted, fighting the headache and fear of The Red Tree, the wireless decided to go belly up (second time since we've been here), and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. By three o'clock, it was evident that no writing would be done, ( Read more... )

So, I awoke at 11 ayem this morning -- an hour or two later than I'd intended -- to connectivity issues with the wireless, and as we have no landline, we were stuck in a holding pattern while Spooky spoke with the landlord, and the landlord spoke back, and the landlord spoke with Cox and our downstairs neighbor. And finally I picked up the modem, ( Read more... )

I think it's a quasi-paradoxical intent, thinking that maybe I can write about these times when I am unable to write. It's hard to miss the contradiction. Never mind that I mostly hate writing about writing, which means I must probably loathe writing about not-writing. But. When it happens, the not-writing, the weather within these walls seems to ( Read more... )

Nothing was written yesterday. Nothing that counts ( Read more... )