Go Forth And Kick Butt
So I’m going to do standby duty at the store this afternoon. Much stuff is going on, which is not my story to tell. Suffice to say good wishes are going to the Selkie and her team.
Last night I made a payment on my accumulated sleep debt. I crashed as soon as I put the kids to bed and was down by eleven. I did start The Forbidden Best-Sellers of Pre-Revolutionary France, and I wanted to knock off a large chunk of it before I fell asleep. Unfortunately, my body had other ideas. I don’t even remember turning the light off.
The world takes on its accepted contours after a night of heavy sleep. Seriously, everything seems to take back its real colors and sharply-defined edges; every problem seems smaller after a night’s worth of sleep.
No wonder most of my characters are insomniacs. Calm, happy protagonists do not kickass urban fantasy make.
I think I’m going to have to stop revisions and get the proof pages out of the way and sent off. Which kind of sucks, as I will lose some momentum, but on the other hand I will get to drink that bottle of wine I’ve promised myself when the Valentine series is all done.
Now that I’m over the separation anxiety (one could almost say afterbirth, ugh) I just want to be done with the series. Is it bad of me? I’ve grieved, now it’s time to let go.
Of course, Dante would say it’s never time to let go. That holding on is a source of strength, and loyalty doesn’t stop when life does.
Jeez. Maybe I’m not as far over the series as I thought. But I still need to get the proof pages done.
Oh, and my submission to the Nothing But Red anthology is past its rough-draft-and-submission stage. It needs some polish, but it’s a good piece of work and I like it. Proceeds from the anthology are going to go to charity, which just rocks, rocks, rocks.
All in all, today is a take-no-prisoners sort of day. I mean, even more than usual…
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