greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,
greygirlbeast
greygirlbeast

"Ba da pa pa. Ba da pa pa."

Cold and cloudy here.* It's 34˚F, but it feels like 27˚F.

As I discard books and organize my office, I'm faced with the problem of my complimentary contributor's copies to all the short-fiction anthologies in which I have ever been published. Which brings us to the skinniest photo I have probably ever included in this journal:



One copy of pretty much every collection* that has ever included my work – foreign-language editions excluded – is on this bookcase**. That's 1995-2013, eighteen years worth of anthologies. Most of my chapbooks, some ARCs, and the mmp editions of my novels are also in the photo, but they account for a small percentage of the bookcase's contents. I just counted exactly 100 anthologies, but I think I missed a few. Anyway, here's the thing: I have never read most of these books. And I never will. I have never even peeked between the covers of some of them. But I have always kept them out where I can see them. Each one of them and all of them together, obviously, mark an achievement. Back when that was twenty-five or so books, it didn't much matter. But now I've more than filled a bookcase (my novels and short-fiction collections are kept on an adjacent case). And I am asking myself why I don't box these up and put them in storage. Well, most of them. Right now, they're just taking up precious office space and collecting dust. In storage, they would do neither. I'd never actually get rid of them, mind you. They are bits of my history.

I am playing far too much GW2. Dancy is almost level 80 (the current cap), which will make her my second Level 80. My Norn ranger, Saga Millasdóttir, was the first.

There's a whole world out there that is most assuredly passing me by. But...it isn't yet time to post New Year's resolutions.

Yesterday I began a new story, for Sirenia Digest #95. It's called "The Peddler's Tale, or Isobel's Revenge." It's another Dream Lands story and is intended as a companion piece to month before last's "Pickman's Madonna." I think I may even enjoy writing it.

Spooky's out picking up last moment Xmas dinner ingredients and such. Tonight, after an enormous dinner, we'll watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Badder Santa, as per tradition. No tree this year. The cats make that all but impossible. We strung some blue lights and put out the cards people have sent. I even sent out cards this year. And I find myself very much wishing I were in Leeds with my family. I haven't been with my family on Xmas since 1999.

Oh, I said yesterday that I would discuss how my meds have adversely affected my writing. I'm gonna save that for tomorrow.

Later Taters,
Aunt Beast

Postscript: A few seconds after I hit "save entry," the sun appeared.

* Er...actually I have been reminded that not all the anthologies I have contributed to are represented here. I've already sent some to storage. Right.

** I have always dreamt of being able to afford nice wooden shelves, instead of these ugly composite board and laminate things.
Tags: "pickman's madonna", "the peddler's tale", 1999, antisocial me, books, family, gw2, isobel siany snow, leeds, outside, pills for ills, saga, short fiction, too damn many books, xmas
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