greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

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picky, picky, picky ad infinitum

Well, as of now (2:48 EST), the poll shows 102 people interested in a volume of erotica written by me and only 8 people not interested. Interesting. I'll probably have news about this later in the week, so I'll keep you posted. My thanks to everyone who took part in the poll and extra thanks to those who took time to comment. However, I am disappointed that none of the eight people who said that they aren't interested bothered to comment as to why they feel that way. I'd genuinely like to know. This is a proposition that I am carefully considering and dissenting opinions might be helpful. Oh, and Robyn, thanks to you, Spooky has now taken to calling me "Sizzly Pants" at every possible opportunity.

I've been up since 6:30 this morning, hammering away at the ms. for To Charles Fort, With Love. Only four hours sleep last night, so I'm beginning to feel a little fried. Another can of Red Bull may be in order. I am recognizing in myself a new degree of perfectionism as regards the proofreading of mss. It started, I think, with the CEM of Murder of Angels last spring, but really hit hard with the ARC of The Dry Salvages. Now, I'm obsessing over TCF,WL just as intensely. Poor Bill Schafer. I promised him this ms. on Thursday or Friday, I think. Here it is Sunday, and i've just discovered that the stories aren't in the order I wish them to be in, so it may be tomorrow before I can send it to him. But mostly I've been writing afterwords. You know, the afterwords for each story that I polled LJ users to see if they wanted, and they said they did, and then I said I wouldn't have time to write them. Yesterday, I decided to write them anyway, but only did "Valentia" and part of "Spindleshanks (New Orleans, 1956)" before a distraction got in the way. So. Today I've put seven hours into the afterwords, with hardly a break since seven o'clock. 2,341 words worth of afterwords (bringing the ms., in case you were wondering, to a total of 86,424 words).

Right now, I can hardly remember yesterday. I worked. Jennifer and I proofread. Spooky and I watched Tetsuo. I managed to read another chapter of the Blackwood biography. I didn't leave the house. I tried in vain to catch up on backlogged e-mail. That was yesterday.

And now I must get back to work on this collection. I shall make it perfect. I shall...

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