Somewhere around 900 words this morning I caught a cold, and by 1500 words I had to take some cold medicine, which has resulted in a very floaty head. I can’t tell if it’s now wearing off, causing my head to be newly floaty, or … that’s probably it, but man. Woogh. Uh. Man. Having a hard time focusing. Took about 3 hours to get the first thousand words this morning, which was just awful. I seriously wanted to give up and just crawl into bed, which would have been…
like pulling teeth…
One. Slow. Word. After. Another. Forty. Thousand. Times. Having a bit of rough going getting it *one* thousand times, much less forty. I’ve got this sloggy bit here and I’m convinced, CONVINCED I TELL YOU, that if I can just bloody well get through it that the rest of the book will just fall into place and I’ll charge through the writing of it. I think I’ve been thinking that for a hundred and twenty pages… And the aggravating bit right now is that if I’m right and once the…
wfc
I have just bought plane tickets to Austin, so it appears I am indeed going to WFC. Gotta arrange a hotel room and, y’know, buy the con membership, but the get-Catie-to-Texas aspect has been taken care of. Ted, most unhappily, couldn’t get the week off, so I’ll be going stag. Never been to Texas. Don’t know if I’ll like it. But now, the important question for the ages: is is possible to get Henry Weinhardt’s root beer in Austin? This is of Critical Importance, I tell you! Also of critical…
Octocon report!
Well, Ted and I were perfect fuddy-duddies on Friday night when we got to the hotel in Maynooth: we flopped up to our hotel room, spent a couple hours reading the graphic novels we’d picked up in Dublin, and went to sleep. :) I have no idea if there was anything going on in the hotel that night, but if there was, we sure as heck missed it! It did, however, put us in a good position to get up early Saturday and have breakfast, where we met and his…
-neerow-
Off to Octocon! Back Monday!