DEMON HUNTS is revised, spell-checked, and submitted. 8-ball, I never knew thee. …of course, this is what being out from behind the 8-ball looks like: – revisions on “Cairn Dancer”, which must be done by mid-next-week because – my editor’s request for revisions on TRUTHSEEKER were “do you think maybe you can cut a third of the book and replace it with something else? *binkbink*?” – and then I need to write the proposal for the sixth (SIXTH!) Walker Papers novel – before writing WAYFINDER, the sequel to TRUTHSEEKER –…
Tag: work
cake or death?
Ok, it’s more like “errands or work”, but “cake or death” is much more interesting. I have this grumpy feeling I need to do a bunch of errands today (though really the only critical one is going to the post office) and an equally grumpy feeling that I’ve already put off starting work so long that I won’t finish the revisions on DEMON HUNTS and get it turned in. It’s also grey and dismal and raining, all of which combines to really make me feel a lot more like sitting…
I have no halfway setting.
I’ve walked about twenty-three miles in the last 2.5 days. For some reason this morning I was very tired and didn’t feel all that much like swimming. I suspect I’m overdoing it, although I swear I don’t /mean/ to. It’s just that, y’know, I walked to the pool yesterday, and if I leave the house again even once after that it’s at least five miles of walking that day (more, actually, since I took the long way round to the pool) and I left the house twice, so I accidentally…
life beyond the 8-ball
I’ve complained bitterly enough in the past about having a hard time writing and exercising (or writing and ANYTHING, for that matter), so in a fit of celebration at being out from behind the 8-ball (I apparently need an 8-ball icon…) I got up and went swimming this morning. That plan was nearly thwarted by me being an *idiot* and leaving my goggles, swim cap, shampoo and water bottle at the pool *last* time I went swimming, which was what, a week ago? However, in a fit of “they don’t…
the horrible truth
The horrible truth is exercise just makes me feel better. I know this *is* true, but I keep mentioning it because I have this hope that someday it’ll actually sink in. I got up early-ish this morning and went for a walk because they said the weather would get increasingly worse as the day wore on (and indeed, it is at this very moment pissing out there) and I wanted to get my licks in while I could. And then I came home and did my Pilates. I’m getting better…