Tuesday, November 11, 2003
Tomorrow night, The Cruxshadows play The Masquerade here in Atlanta. It's a show you shouldn't miss. Or, if you're not an Atlantian, catch them somewhere else. They never stop touring. Ever. I have to give Rogue a call this evening.
Yesterday was a tsunami of noise and chaos and phone calls. The business of writing, the busyness of writing. I had a long talk with my NYC agent about Murder of Angels, which she'd just finished. She says it's beautifully written and the "grimmest" thing I've ever done. I told her I owe her a happy book. She agreed. As soon as I finish the proofreading, the revised ms. will go to her and she'll pass it along to my editor at Roc. But what I didn't do yesterday was proofread. I was just too distracted to face that mountian of pages and Procrastination won out again. So, chapters Four and Five are today, instead. I did get the revisions done on "Mercury," at least. I really like this short story. I've only done four this year ("La Peau Verte" for Verte Brume, "Riding the White Bull" for the first issue of the new incarnation of Argosy magazine, "The Dead and the Moonstruck" for Gothic!, and "Mercury"). It's a shame I have so little time for short stories, as they have definitely become my preferred form. I hope I have time in 2004 to do another four.
I also read Poppy's "The Feast of St. Rosalie" yesterday, which is very good, though the image of a meatball cone was almost more than my stomach could handle.
The days slip by faster than I can even note their passing.
Spooky just came in with a bunch of photos from Dragon*Con '02. She's distracting me. She does that. It's one of her jobs. Anyway, photos. Me and Jhonen and Rogue and Voltaire and Nar'eth. Seems like only yesterday, a hundred years ago.
Have you gotten a copy of Low Red Moon yet? Well, why the frell not?
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