I love my job.

“Gosh,” I thought to myself, “when I go back to work, will I write the scene where Gary gets his throat cut, or the story where Margrit’s mother embarks on a passionate affair with Eliseo Daisani*?” Then I thought GOD I LOVE MY JOB! *One of these things does not actually happen.

*dumbstruck*

The problem I’ve had with revising RIGHT ANGLES TO FAIRYLAND, the classic tropes middle grade/YA fantasy novel I wrote in, whimper, 2002, is that since 2004 people have been paying me to write other things. It is very, very difficult to justify taking time to work on ANGLES when the money is coming in from, y’know, everything else. It has literally just occurred to me that I should make revising the damned novel one of my crowdfunding projects. Like everything else I do, it would be a limited edition/one time…

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O, J Peterman…

…O, How You Torture Me. velvet evening gown and cashmere sweater both on sale and me with nowhere to wear them, not quite at weight loss goal, and no money. Woe. Woe is me. :)

My head has shrunk.

I got out another of my Very Fine Hats today and it fell down over my eyes. It was always a little big, but this was “If I didn’t have my glasses on nothing would be supporting this hat except the crown of my head” too big. Apparently my head has shrunk. :) 1/3rd of the way through January and so far I’ve only accomplished one thing on my January Thinks To Do list. That one thing, however, was getting contracts in the mail, so that’s probably good. :) I…

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PotD

Glasnevin Tower More behind the cut.