David Golove, a New York University law professor who specializes in executive-power issues, said Bush has cast a cloud over ''the whole idea that there is a rule of law," because no one can be certain of which laws Bush thinks are valid and which he thinks he can ignore.
''Where you have a president who is willing to declare vast quantities of the legislation that is passed during his term unconstitutional, it implies that he also thinks a very significant amount of the other laws that were already on the books before he became president are also unconstitutional," Golove said.
Yesterday, we did both chapters Seven and Eight (neither has a title yet) of Daughter of Hounds, pages 405 to 505, and so the Zokutou pagemawhatsit looks like this:
505 / 691
I have such fears for this book. I suppose there's no point denying it. I fear how it will be received. At this moment, if asked what advice I would give aspiring novelists, I would likely say, "Don't frelling dare fall in love with your books, as this will only make it hurt that much more when the critics don't get them and readers don't read them." I would add, though, "There's a catch. Unless you fall in love with your books, completely and without reserve, you'd be better off shoveling elephant dung or crunching numbers in some corporate cubicle than trying to write novels." I'm tempted, this time, to set about writing dozens of bad reviews and posting them to Amazon.com under various noms de plume, just to beat the mouthy assholes to the punch, to cut to the chase and say every nasty thing anyone could ever think to say about this book. Kill it myself, before "they" have the chance. Yeah, that's tinked. I know. Authors don't have to be sane. That's one of the few perks.
This morning, I looked back at my LJ entry from this day one year ago. I hardly ever do this. Anyway, on this day last year, I'd just finished Frog Toes and Tentacles and was about to begin polishing the stories. If we go back to May 3rd, 2004, I'd just finished "Faces in Revolving Souls" and was labouring under that depression that almost always finds me upon the completion of a story. Back another year, May 3rd, 2003, (LJ only goes back to April '04, so now we're talking Blogger), and I'd just finished "Riding the White Bull," was editing the story, and was struggling with the aforementioned specie of depression. I could go all the way back to May 3rd, 1998, if I were so foolish, but I'm not.
Yesterday evening, after work, Spooky and I drove over to Candler Park, and I promptly made a fool of myself on the swings. It was likely the most fun I've had since...the last time I was Nar'eth, in September 2004. I swung quite perilously high, desiring only to let go and genuinely fly. Last night, I took two of the AmbierCR and still only managed to sleep about seven hours. Which is better than five, but still...
Anyway, tonight Byron is escourting me and Miss Spooky to the They Might Be Giants show (and he's a ninja), so there's something to look forward to beyond all the words that lie ahead. Today, I hope to make it through chapters Nine ("The Bailiff") and Ten ("The Yellow House") and the epilogue. That will leave only the two appendices, and truthfully, I may just go ahead cut them, rather than argue with my editor over their relevance to the novel.