I’m supposed to be resting today.
I did line edits, then a final revise on a submittable manuscript, back to back. The big scab on my forehead from Boxnoggin’s antics has fallen free, though the ones on my hands and knees are still clinging for all they’re worth. (I know, you really wanted to hear about that, you’re welcome.) I feel just generally run-down and like my body’s fighting off a cold, though it could just be my immune system screaming “COME AT ME, MOTHERFUCKERS, I GOT ENOUGH AMMO FOR ALLA YOUSE.”
…my immune system, she is just like me.
Yes, I should be resting today. Instead I’m considering a Viking fantasy gothic werewolf book1, and looking at my production schedule for next year to see where I could ram one in. Bonus if it turns out that I can do the Rebecca-from-vampire-Mrs-Danvers-POV novella2 as well, since that’s been boiling in the back of my head.
It’s… nice, I suppose? To feel books jostling inside my head again, and to feel like I might, if I budget carefully, have the energy to finish another one? I’ve spent most of 2020 feeling down in the dumps because my productivity has taken hit after massive hit. I have a lot of Tolkien to read too, and I should be planning nothing more taxing than a day on the couch with a stack of Unfinished Tales and History of Middle-Earth, drinking tea and chortling while I make notes for Fall of Gondolin fanfic.
I am making the supreme sacrifice–no run today, because I rolled over in bed this morning and my body informed me that if I suit up for one, it will have some Strong Words for the management. I figure I’ve put my faithful old corpse through enough lately, so it’ll be ibuprofen and just a gentle ramble with both dogs. Miss B’s hind leg is bothering her a bit, so we keep our pace almost glacial, which drives Boxnoggin almost to distraction. Still, the two of them wrestle with abandon after lunch and dinner, so they get plenty of exercise and Boxnoggin’s “Gawd, will you just come on,” dance burns a lot of energy as well. Or so I hope.
Maybe I’ll yell some more about the Silmarillion or related things3 later this week. If I do–I’m not saying it’s a given, mind you–is there anything in particular you guys want me to cover? I don’t think I’m up to Children of Hurin4 but other stuff is fair game. I kind of wish ol’ JRR had novelized the Kingdom of the North, but that could be because I’m a total Witch King of Angmar fangirl.
…anyway, the dogs want their walkies and the coffee is down to dregs, so I suppose me and the faithful carcass that’s been hauling me around since birth should get a gentle ramble in. Then it’ll be time for ibuprofen and tea.
A writer’s life is full of excitement, kiddos.
Over and out.