Er...maybe I can write an entry in my sleep. Let's find out, shall we? At the very least, the attempt will amuse the Platypus and the Dodo, and their lives are so devoid of genuine entertainment. I was in bed a little after two a.m. last night, so I ought to be awake. But, then, just as I was dozing off, I had a small seizure, which woke me up. I had to take another Ambien, and still didn't get back to sleep until after three. That's two seizures in two days. There was a rather bad one on Sunday. And no, they're not making it any easier to get this short story written. Truthfully, the stress surrounding this story is likely the trigger.

Even after a year, I'm still uncomfortable talking about my fits here. But, they have a great impact on my writing, and on my ability to write, so leaving them out would be a sort of dishonesty. It's not that I mind lying, but I hardly see the reason in keeping this journal if I'm not truthful about what being a writer is like for me.

To add to the fun of the last two days, our internet connection (and that of everyone in the area) has been touch and go. Mostly go. These days, I rely primarily on the web for both dictionary and thesaurus. And because I'm writing so goddamn much, there's little time for out-of-house research, so I'm forced to rely heavily on sources such as Wikipedia, Google books, and thousands of websites. It usually works out okay, so long as you carefully check everything against other sources (it's especially important to double-check what you find on Wikipedia, given their dubious policies regarding neutrality and their practice of placing consensus before authority). Anyway, yesterday the internet was down until sometime after sunset, and virtually nothing was written. Maybe 250 words. I desperately need to finish "As Red as Red" by tomorrow evening. Oh, and to add to the fun, the CEM for The Red Tree is due any day, and Penguin wants it back in Manhattan by April 3rd, which means we have to manage Sirenia Digest #40 and the CEM simultaneously.

Last night, there was an hour or so of rp with the Alpha Institute in Ethereal. And, afterwards, I played WoW for a bit. I have discovered that I have a lot more fun with WoW if I focus on low-level stuff, rather than the high-level quests. And that I enjoy soloing more than playing with Spooky. She took me to Outland, and, yeah...it's pretty. But, honestly, I'm enjoying myself more trying to getting exalted with Orgrimmar and the Darkspear trolls. Go figure. Maybe Shaharrazad's just not an epic kind of girl.

After the seizure, trying to get to sleep, I re-read much of Lovecraft's "The Shunned House," which is actually relevant to "As Red as Red."

My thanks to everyone who bid in the latest round of eBay auctions. Don't forget that the trade paperback edition of Alabaster will be out soon, there's now a mass-market edition of Daughter of Hounds, and there are still (I think) a few copies of the trade hardback A is for Alien available. The more books I sell, the fewer scars I get from Herr Platypus' venomous spurs. This is the economy of my life.