December 21st, 2004


Somewhat Warmer Tuesday

Yesterday, I wrote 226 words on Chapter One before giving up about 5 p.m.. Partly, it was the cold, pricking at me, distracting, working my nerves. Partly, it was the emotional fallout (I love phrases that owe their origin to nuclear weapons) from the stuff I wrote on Monday. The 226 words were pretty good, but I just couldn't summon anything more than that. I called Spooky into the office and asked her if I could please just stop for the day. She said yes, so I did. I shouldn't have. I'm so far behind, and there's so much to do — this novel, Marvel, and on and on and on — but I just didn't have the heart or the stomach for it. Maybe if Monday hadn't weighed so heavy, maybe I could have kept the cold at bay with a little absinthe or a pill or something. Will I write today? I should, but it's Solstice, and we may go to the botanical gardens instead, which seems appropriate for the day. I'm not sure yet. It's all a matter of how much control my guilt and fear of laziness can exert over me in the next hour or two.

If you want to read about the almost-disaster involving Spooky's signed and personalized copy of Edward Gorey's The Haunted Tea Cozy, click here. I still get queasy, just thinking about it. Oh, and she can tell you about the LSD Penguin, as well.

And if you want to be reassured that clueless assholes are still reading my novels and writing reviews of them for Amazon, click here (scroll down to "Two Whiney, Dysfunctional Lesbians Save The World .. Sort Of, December 20, 2004"). These days, I'm honestly at a loss for words at shit like this. I should promise to write only fantasy novels filled with Good and Virtuous (i.e., straight, sober and happy) characters and Evil and Nasty (i.e., you know thier bad because I tell you so right off) characters. Then the assholes might give me a break. A shame I can't find the hole in my conscience. Does anyone else get just a little whiff of homophobia off this guy?

The new Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology (Vol. 24, No. 4; 10 Dec. '04) arrived yesterday. That was the one bright spot in the day, I think. There's a beautiful life restoration of the dolichosaur Pontosaurus lesinensis on the cover (and it's in colour on page 981). Dolichosaurs are marvelous little beasts from the Cretaceous Period, sleek aqautic lizards that fit somewhere into the evolution of mosasaurs and snakes from a common ancestor. I've read only one paper so far, "Provenance and anatomy of Genyodectes serus, a large-toothed ceratosaur (Dinosauria; Theropoda) from Patagonia" (by Oliver W. M. Rauhut).

I think that's all for now. I'm off to battle the amoral lesbian snow badgers that would wrack my body with frostbite and have me fill my books with decisive, pleasant, lifeless people.
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