I spent the larger part of yesterday doing copy edits for URBAN SHAMAN. They were surprisingly painless. There are about five things I will do in the future which will reduce my poor editor’s efforts by about 80% (further->farther, leapt->leaped (although I don’t particularly like ‘leaped’, it’s certainly not a hill to die on), towards->toward, grey->gray (ditto ‘leaped’, but with more prejudice), and replace all my –s with emdashes), but by and large, I think there are maybe five sentences in the whole thing that I was like, “Um, no,…
jimmy stewart is *dreamy*
Gaming last night was a blast. I’ll do a writeup … probably not til Monday. Maybe tomorrow, but probably not. Got up late, didn’t do any editing, went to Lani’s book signing, which was lots of fun, then went and saw “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”, which I’d never seen. Jimmy Stewart is *dreamy*. *swoon* *tud* I really should think more about doing Netflix so I can watch all the old movies I’ve never seen but would like to. miles to Lothlorien: 367
politics
In these last few days before the election–an election which I’m already heartily sick of, just like everybody else I know, and yet can’t stop obsessing over, because it’s that damned important–I am finding myself being filled with a slow and perhaps irrational confidence that Kerry is going to win in a landslide. A landslide, in my terms, for this election, is perhaps an overstated word. A landslide, from my perspective, would be a solid enough lead that bringing the election to the Supreme Court would be pointless. An act…
oh, *now* I’m pissed
Oh, *now* I’m pissed. Morrison Auto Group (local Audi dealership) just called me. Said that the car was fixed. Said they’d never been able to actually get a speedometer that fit and that they’d opened up the circuit board on the car and soldered a fix and they couldn’t guarantee how long it would last. Said *I* could call up junk yards and look online and see if I could find a reconditioned speedometer. ***I*** could do that. what the FUCK have THEY been doing for the last EIGHT FUCKING…
ain’t noffin but a HOUN’ GOG!
I have no fewer than three complete book manuscripts piled on my desk. I also have bills, a computer (besides the one I’m using right now, I mean, and a camera, along with various and sundry other junk. A Harlequin excerpt agreement, which I need to put in the file folder. A memory stick. A bowl with the remains of the da oatmeal. An unopened envelope with someone’s comics in it. Notes for correcting BANSHEE CRIES, one of the three manuscripts on the desk. Okay. HoS ms can go ……