I've been back three days, and, beyond a little email and a conversation with my agent, I've gotten nothing done.
And the anger is coming back at me. I've been living in role-play scenes, sleeping in between, trying not to think about it. But the role-play inevitably leads me to anger all its own, because people piss me off. Sooner or later, almost everyone pisses me off.
I need to find a way to push back the anger and work. Just work. Shut out everything else, but, really, there isn't anything else for me. I need to write a new story for the next issue of Sirenia Digest, which is #104. I need to find enough of the story for Alabaster: The Good, the Bad, and the Bird that I can get started on it as soon as the digest is out, because, as it stands, the script for part one is due on the twenty-third. The page proofs for Cherry Bomb will be arriving any day now.
More and more, the journal seems utterly fucking irrelevant.
Here's a series of photographs I took our last night in Leeds:
All Photographs Copyright © 2014 by Caitlín R. Kiernan and Kathryn A. Pollnac