greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,
greygirlbeast
greygirlbeast

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-1 and counting

Quite a number of people have gone out of their way to make this a pleasant day for me, and I shall not display a lack of gratitude by whining, kvetching, snarking, or acting in some other way which might lead them to think their actions have been in vain. Because they haven't.

I have begun to wonder when I'm going to start feeling my age. Does that actually happen? Do you wake up one morning and feel very much older? I don't want it to happen, mind you, but I do wonder. I see all these people in their frelling twenties acting ten years older than me. And there's a fear to this. I do not want to be unsightly, one of those women who doesn't know that's she's too old to wear a mini-skirt (that was just an example, as I would not, under normal circumstances, wear a mini-skirt), as I do not wish to embarrass myself unknowingly any more than is absolutely necessary. Oh, never mind. This is starting to sound like kvetching...

Last night, Spooky and I saw the very excellent Primer, one of the most intelligent treatments of time travel I've ever seen, if not the most intelligent. But I think I need to see it a couple more times before saying much more.

I neglected to mention in yesterday's somewhat random accounting of things that had transpired in the two days I didn't make entries that, on Monday, I signed 26 copies of Silk (eBay purchases). Yesterday, Spooky and I lugged 125 copies (just over 100 pounds) of To Charles Fort, With Love ARCs to the post office. And if you happen to be at Book Expo America this year, you just might get lucky and score a copy. We still have to send out about a hundred copies to bookstores.

Okay. Hold the shop talk. I'm feeling ungrateful. So, my thanks to the following people for their generosity on this odd day: Spooky (!!!!!!), who had to deal with me waking up at 8 frelling a.m. wanting presents, white chocolate mocha, and Star Wars cupcakes; Jenny (Stinkmonkey!); Derek c.f. Pegritz, aRvin Clay, and the disembodied head of H. P. Lovecraft; Mellá and E. L. Downey (face tentacles!); Bill Harris; Many Ann Hantakas; George Drayer; Britta Koch; Leh'agvoi (Setsuled) — yay, pulp!; John and Cheryl Stoeppel; Zilljah (I shall not let the humans get me down); David Kirkpatrick (thanks for a "lost" book!); Jackie Kolasa; William G. Matthews (who was almost too generous — wow); Llar'en (Larne Pekovsky; trilobites!); Robyn_ma; Susannah Ferdinand; Dayna (for teaching me the history of things what go inside b'day cakes); Kirin; Dr. Brite; Cam Collins; Jada and Katharine; and my mom. You have all helped to make this a day on which not to grump.

I spent about four and a half hours on Chapter Four of Daughter of Hounds yesterday and managed to rewrite the first scene of the chapter almost entirely (or so it seems). Tomorrow (as I am not writing today — not no way, not no how), I'll begin writing new pages for Chapter Four, and this book will move ahead towards THE END. But now, it's sunny out, and starting to feel like summer, and I'm off to do some serious mischief...
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