And I'm sick as a sick fucking dog. And I'm not working today. Well, I'm not writing. I may lie in bed and manage some proofreading by having Spooky read to me. But that's different. I actually suck at doing nothing. I've never learned the trick. Which makes being ill difficult. My mind rages on, even when the body would be still. It has to have something upon which to gnaw.
I've not left the house since last Monday evening, the 31st, so I've not been out for seven days. I was doing much better for a while, keeping to my resolution never to stay in for more than four consecutive days. But the novel's been coming so fast, and the weather's been so horrid, the days slip by without my even realizing it.
There's something substantive I want to write, regarding an Amazon "reviewer's" complaint that, in The Red Tree, I harp on Sarah's being a lesbian, and how the complaint reveals just how poorly many straight people understand what it's like to be queer, and how ignorance can quickly become prejudice. But I'm not up to it now. Tomorrow I might be.
Anyway, I will be checking the blog today, so comment if you'd like. Ah, here's something. A number of people have mentioned to me how much they've enjoyed the "Alone" and "CreatureMe" pieces in Sirenia Digest nos. 61 and 62, respectively. The answers that made up those two articles were in response to questions I asked in the blog two years back. So...here's a challenge. Come up with a new question of the same sort. Something as good as "If I were a summonable monster..." and "What if you had me alone..." Don't worry, you couldn't shock me if you tried. But feel free to try, all the same.
Okay. Gotta go horizontal for a few minutes.