Sunday, February 24, 2002
I hate weekends, and I especially hate weekends when I don't work. Dead air.
Okay, I did proofread "On the Road to Jefferson" (a chapbook to be released with In the Garden of Poisonous Flowers) this afternoon, but that only took about 30 minutes. So it doesn't count.
I'm waiting to see Dame Darcy's artwork for In the Garden of Poisonous Flowers, which is finished, but it won't reach me until Tuesday morning. But I know it will rock, because everything the Dame does rocks.
What else. Oh, I'm reading oodles (exactly how much is an oodle?) of Sherlock Holmes stories, because I'm writing a story for a theme anthology, edited by John Pelan (Darkside, Darkside II, The Children of Cthulhu) which will feature new Holmes mysteries involving the mythos of H. P. Lovecraft. As yet, I have no ideas whatsoever, and I haven't written for a "shared world" anthology in some time now, but this one sounded like fun. Of course, this might have been more interesting if it were, say, a Lovecraft/Yoknapatawpha County cross-over, or Lovecraft/Nathaniel Hawthorne, or Lovecraft/James Redfield cross-over.
"Hey, Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my ass!"
Bear with me, gentle readers (and the rest of you, too). Weekends without work do nasty things to my head.
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