Saturday, September 21, 2002
Up about 8 a.m. this morning. Last night the rain came back, and so did the leak in my office ceiling. We've only called the realtor about that leak three times, and they've only, supposedly, fixed it three times now. How hard can it be to take some pitch and patch a hole, or a crack, or whatever? So, about midnight last night, Jennifer and I were running about, covering things, moving things, as droplets of water rained down on a room full of books and paper and computers. Miraculously, no damage seems to have resulted. We've called the realtor and they've not yet called back. I expect that Monday the handyman will show up and not fix the hole again. Meanwhile, Kathryn may have found us a new place in Providence; I only hope it has a stable roof.
I've been very good with this particular wait. Usually, they make me crazy and nonfunctional for weeks on end. This time, thanks to all the work with the campaign to save Farscape, I was quite distracted until about a week ago. Sometime around then, the anxiety began to set in. Now there's very little else. So, not much hope of working, or sleeping, or doing anything else, until I know what's up with the novel.
I can, though, take a moment to plug The Crüxshadows' new disc, Wishfire. It's hardly been out of the iBook since Dragon*Con. I like it that much. You can find out more about it at their website, and I'm not just saying that because Rogue saved my hard drive.
Also, the dreaded 66-question interview I finsihed with last week will actually be appearing in two parts, in two different magazines. Much of it will appear in Cememtery Dance #44, as Part 3 of the "Our Ladies of Darkness" series (sounds like a rather dubious order of nuns, doesn't it?). Another portion of it will appear in an upcoming issue of Hellnotes. However, some of it won't be published and, seeing as how I spent so much time on the thing, post-publication, I'll be putting it up on the website on the interview page, undivided, unexpurgated, in all its original long-winded splendor.
Apparently, no trip to Atlanta this weekend. Not knowing the news from NYC, I'd just feel like I was goofing off, like I hadn't earned the furlough from the concrete wastes of Birmingham. So, I'm not sure what's in store for today and tomorrow. Maybe I'll find the initiative to clean house a little. Maybe I'll drift back into all the Farcsapery that needs doing. Maybe I'll listen to new CDs I've not had time to listen to. Confession: I hate "free" time, and the only thing worse than "free" time is "free" time combined with intense stress.
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