Friday, August 02, 2002
We are now beginning that latter part of the summer which I've come to dread. Most of the dread arises from my childhood, when we were very poor and rarely had access to air-conditioning. In Alabama, August without an air-conitioner, with day-time temperatures edging towards 100·F, often with humidity to match, and nights that aren't much better, is a genuinely miserable experience. I used to try to find the coolest part of the house, sometimes closets, to read during the day, and then go out at dusk to play. The other part of the dread was, of course, that school would begin soon. These days, with air-conditioning a given and school well behind me, not to mention my recent penchant for reclusivity, the mild dread that this part of the summer causes me sometimes seems silly. Until I need to go outside during the day. Then I remember. I crave "cool foods" this time of year — watermelon, avacados, salads, cold chicken, cucumbers, that sort of thing. I actually begin to miss winter (and constant readers will know that I am no admirer of winter).
Yesterday, I wrote 1,015 words on Chapter Twelve. It was a diffucult day, the words fighting me, the characters unsure of their lines, but I suppose it's only fair. This book has been going easier lately than it has any right to go. Also, I started proofing the galleys for "Waycross" night before last. I was going to do more last night when I went to bed, but ended up reading from Lovecraft's "The Shadow Out of Time" until I finally fell asleep. Anyway, today it's back to Chapter Twelve.
But tonight I get Farscape.
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