October 12th, 2016

Roy Batty

"Yes, we may be hidden by rags..."

I didn't sleep much last night, maybe four hours. And it's awfully fucking bright outside my window. And I am mildly hungover. Strung out. Whatever. It's 60˚F.

Yesterday sort of derailed, and I only managed 338 new words on "Build Your Houses With Their Backs To the Sea." Given that I'm likely no more than 500 words from THE END, that was especially frustrating. I tried to make up for the poor writing day with proofreading last night. I worked on proofing the galleys for Dear Sweet Filthy World until 3:15 a.m., when I could no longer keep my eyes from crossing. I made it through "Vicaria Draconis" (from Sirenia Digest #44, July 2009), "Paleozoic Annunciation" (Sirenia Digest #45, August 2009), "Charcloth, Firesteel, and Flint" (Sirenia Digest #46, September 2009), and "Shipwrecks Above" (Sirenia Digest #46, September 2009).

My thanks to the 247 people on Facebook who voiced their appreciation of Silk yesterday, and to the half dozen who did so here and at Twitter. I'm always a little surprised by how many people love that book, especially after all these years.

Now, I'm gonna go suck on this Red Bull can until I feel better.

Later,
Aunt Beast