Friday, March 12, 2004
The headache gnawed at me all day yesterday, and it's still with me. It made yesterday sort of a blur, through which I tried to work. Mostly, though, it felt as if I spent the whole time chasing myself in circles. I tried to begin an essay on Lovecraft that I'm writing for Studies in Modern Horror, but made no real progress. Same with the screenplay. I'd promised my LA agent a few pages this week, because I thought I'd have a little time between stories. Ha. Spooky and I read the first 58 pp. of The Dry Salvages. That was the most productive part of the day. I'm glad that I decided to do this last-minute read, as we've already found several continuity errors. The frelling thing's over thirty thousand words long and I think I've tried to treat it as a short story. I finished it in December and went of vacation in January, and I must have known it wasn't polished. But if I did, apparently I forgot. Oh, and my New York agent tells me I'd look good in a forest ranger's uniform.
Today we'll try to make it through the rest of The Dry Salvages.
There will be other things, as well. There always are.
The bigots and zealots are crowing over the momentary halting of same-sex weddings in San Francisco. It's a comfort to know that history will consign these assholes to oblivion, but I do wish that history would hurry up about it.
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