Friday, November 15, 2002
I'm really still much too sleepy to be making this entry and I have no toothpicks with which to prop open my poor, bleary eyes. The cat and I just had a long conversation about going back to bed for the entire day. The cat is a bad influence, but I suppose it's her job. However, valiantly, I resisted.
Yesterday I only made it through Chapter Eleven of TFoC (four hours of proofing), mainly because it turned out to be at least twice the length of all the novel's preceeding chapters. As I read, I'm highlighting things that I'll write endnotes on later. What I'm finding most interesting, ten years after the book's composition, is all the phrases and images that I've reused over the years. I'm noting as many of them as I'm catching.
I should also have a crack at those signature sheets today, at least the ones for Waycross.
Last night was nice. Jennifer made chili for the Crüxhshadows and we watched Babe: Pig in the City (it was Rogue's choice; he even had the DVD with him; he also sang part of a Captain and Tenielle song at one point, so go figure). Tonight we all get sushi and Harry Potter before they head off to Baton Rouge tomorrow. Rogue's still under the weather, but Jessica's worse. I'd hate to be sick and on the road. Times like this I'm glad I decided, in 1997, to choose my writing over Death's Little Sister. I'm afraid I lack the constitution and will for the sort of endless touring that The Crüxshadows have undertaken.
Off to work . . . or sleep. We'll see whether or not the cat gets her way.
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