I cannot shake the feeling that my fits are something I should not be discussing publicly.
The sun is bright this morning, and the sky is that shade of blue. Terrific thunderstorms last night, hard rain and wind howling around the edges of the house.
Not much to say about yesterday. There was more line editing to be done than I'd expected, mostly pertaining to format. But now B is for Beginnings (the chapbook that comes free with the limited edition of A is for Alien) should be as "corrected" as it's going to get. I still need to go through the collection itself one more time, mostly looking for formatting errors. We read over what has been written on "Some Notes on an Unfinished Film," and Spooky likes it, and she says I should finish it. I sent it to sovay, who also says finish it. So, I suppose that I will. Part of me wants to set it aside (again), and write something much simpler for Sirenia Digest #35. A simpler narrative structure, I mean. After the decidedly not simple structure of The Red Tree, all those epistolary antics, my preference would be something along the lines of the vignettes from Frog Toes and Tentacles or Tales from the Woeful Platypus. But...here's this story already begun, and I'm already running late, and I don't really have any ideas at the ready for vignettes.
After the editing and reading yesterday, I read and rested, even managing a nap late in the afternoon. Spooky went out into the world and slew a wild pizza for dinner. I fretted about The Red Tree. It rained. Ba da pa pa.
I want to go back to bed, but the platypus says that's not an option.