Regardless, my grateful thanks to everyone who commented yesterday. It helps a little.
Today, if you can find a copy, Dancy Flammarion makes another stab at this funny book thing (hahahaha) in the pages of Dark Horse Presents #18.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,265 words on Chapter Six of Fay Grimmer. To my utter fucking shock, I am beginning to think maybe the third act of this book might manage to redeem the rest of it. Regardless, another nine days and this beast will be "finished," and I can finally move on. Meanwhile, I hope people are preordering Blood Oranges, which I mostly enjoyed writing.
We'll be getting eBay cranked up again very soon, just in time for the "holidays." Among the offerings will be an ARC of Blood Oranges and copies of Alabaster: Wolves.
Not much else to yesterday. Dinner. Then, via Facebook, my mother poked me with a pointy stick, and we revisited the same argument we've been having since at least 1981. In public. Yeah, that was a blast. Spooky and I watched the season finalé of Weeds. Season 7 was a vast improvement over Season 6; I'm pleased to hear Season 8 is THE END. Time to wrap it up, folks. Late, I watched Key Largo (1948), because it's one of those films that usually makes me less inclined to hurt myself.
This afternoon, we'll lunch on slices of Fellini's annual Thanksgiving pizza (slow-roasted turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, and stuffing), with cranberry sauce on the side.
I'm not going to talk about the news....