This weekend has been declared crunch time, and as it turns out there’s also a Finishing Things Weekend (#FTW) happening on Twitter this weekend. Rockin’. I love peer pressure.
The things that I want/need to get done:
Revise last weekend’s flash story (flutters eyelashes at critiquers) and submit it Draft another Tesla’s Daughter Super Hero story (yes, it’s apparently turning into a series) Write new flash fiction for this weekend’s Codex Weekend Warriors contest That’s kind of a lot, but I think I can pull it off.
It almost became a joke; when will the package show up in Canada? Canada Post, I’ve found, is notoriously slow. I diligently checked the post office every couple days (because they don’t deliver to the house). Christmas came and went and finally, on the last day of the year, a package from California arrived.
My good friend Christie sent packages to a group of us; we met online and a tight bond formed by a love of words and writing and genre developed, and it’s only grown since.
I’m planning a submissions party this weekend and you are all welcome to join me on Twitter. I have at least one story that that I should be sending out for reprints and a second that I’m not sure when, offhand, the reprint rights revert. I need to do market research, update my spreadsheets, and get submitting. I’ve also got some stories that have been sitting gathering dust and that’s a crying shame.
Every year has its ups and downs and 2010 was no exception. Still, it felt like a harder year in many ways. There were unexpected challenges by way of financial disasters, health setbacks and personal roadblocks. At times, I didn’t know how I’d get by day to day. Despite everything, the year ended on a high note. All we can do for the days ahead is work smart and move forward.
I’ve been slogging away, the last few weeks, trying to string together words that make sense. It’s been rough. A nameless ennui that I blame on not having a place to personalize yet. That’s something Andrea and I will be working towards in the new year. Meanwhile, life goes on and the writing must continue so I had to find a way. Deadlines usually help, but I’ve been staring two or three, maybe four, up the ugly side so much lately that I’m beginning to go cross-eyed.
Eventually I’ll get on to something resembling a schedule. This is a note to let you know that yes, I am still alive, despite what my twitter feed may appear to indicate.
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell has finally been repealed. About fucking time. Maybe this’ll be the tipping point to establishing equal rights for everyone regardless of race, gender or orientation. My brother’s back out of the hospital. It’s complex.
Insomnia and I are old friends who nod in passing, acknowledging our shared history like lovers but say nothing. The latest flare of pain caused by fibromyalgia has rekindled that flame and brought an entirely new facet to the relationship.
Fibro flares can be difficult. It’s sometimes easy to forget I’m in the middle of one when I’m sitting and working or active around the house but when I lay down to rest and my body starts to relax the pain gets worse.
We had our first measurable snowfall today — a meager quarter inch or so. I was awake early, or late, depending on your point of view thanks to fibrosomnia day 2. I decided to walk uptown to our favorite breakfast joint where I had three eggs, three slices of bacon, and fried potatoes and onions for under $5. I jotted down some words, made some notes on the next story I’m working on, and on the way back home picked up an extra large half hot chocolate, half coffee at Tim Hortons (which is open 24⁄7, btw) for less than $2.
6 months, 17 days. 201 days. It was May 7th when I had my original issues at the border resulting in my denial of entry. It was three weeks ago that we were planning to have Andrea follow me to California. And then events transpired which changed our mind. A plan was hatched. Action was taken. To our pleasant shock and awe, it worked. I am home. I am officially, and quite legally, in Canada.
I went to my first World Fantasy Convention last weekend. I’ve been to other conventions — mostly smaller, regional conventions like Penguicon, Windycon, and a one-day stop at WisCon last year. I thought I knew what to expect. Boy was I wrong.
First, the new friends. So many of my friends converged upon Columbus that World Fantasy was, for many of us, our first face-to-face meeting. I met what seemed like half of my rival Clarion class, all but one of the Inkpunks (Wendy, we missed you dearly), and so many others from Facebook, Twitter, and LiveJournal.