Yesterday was another LD. No, I don't know why. Maybe it's exhaustion from editing Daughter of Hounds. Maybe it's any one of a thousand other things. All I can say is that I'm trying. It's even harder to write erotica when I'm not in the mood to write than it is to do my usual sort of writing when I'm not in the mood...to write. Yesterday, I mostly sat at the desk, looking for a story, for some bit of arousal, for anything that would get me moving again. Spooky and I had a walk in Freedom Park, which was uneventful. The postman brought only bills and adverts. I ate nothing all day until about 4:30 p.m., when I had a Red Bull and two Reese cups. I made a half-hearted attempt at cleaning my office. At least Sophie was feeling better (click here to see a cat who feels better and wants a damn sandwich). So, yeah. That was yesterday. Oh, I did receive a contract and cheque from Steve Jones, who's reprinting "La Peau Verte" in The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror (Vol. 17), and money's always nice, even if there's never enough of it.
According to the subpress website, the extra 100 copies of the Alabaster lettered that were added to the print run are halfway to being sold-out. Only 50 copies remain. So, if you want a copy of the lettered, which comes with the "Highway 97" Dancy chapbook, you probably shouldn't wait too much longer to order.
Speaking of sold-out, we have tickets for the Imogen Heap/Zoe Keating show at the Variety Playhouse tonight. I only wish I were in the mood or had done enough work the past two days to feel that I deserve a show.
Meanwhile, the more educated about the roots of Wicca and modern Neo-Pagan witchcraft I become, the less it seems I shall ever truly be a part of it.
There was a spectacularly bizarre dream this morning, which I may write about later today.