Monday, July 21, 2003
I'm not exactly running late today. Just a little tardy.
I just got word from my editor at Penguin that there's a review of Low Red Moon in the new issue of Publisher's Weekly. Someone at Writer's House is trying to track it down for me. To say that I am nervous about how this novel will be received critically, after the sucess of Threshold, is an understatement. So, I've realized that until I've read this review, or had it read to me, I won't be writing today. There's a knot in my belly, and a bit of nausea, which always attends a moment such as this. For better or worse, a lot rides on the PW review.
Yesterday, I polished "The Dead and the Moonstruck" and then realized that it's going to take me considerably longer than I'd thought to put together the "extra" material for the Subterranean Press lettered edition of Low Red Moon. The better part of that material will be excerpts from this blogger, and, as they need to be the most relevant entries, I have to read back over an enormous amount of material. Why I thought I could do this quickly is entirely beyond me. Beginning with the first entry of November 23, 2001, I must have written several hundred thousand words in this blog, in nearly a thousand entries. So, I called Bill Schafer and told him to give me another week. Hopefully, it won't take longer than that.
So, maybe I'll write today, and maybe I won't.
Are we mad or are we popular?
I shall see.
Has anyone else been particularly disturbed by the "suicide" of Dr. David Kelly (the British scientist who may - or may not - have been the BBC's source for a report on doctored intelligence files)? The whole thing has this creepy Three Days of the Condor feel to me. Found in a vacant lot with one slashed wrist and a bottle of painkillers nearby. Does that really sound like a suicide? Tony Blair promises an inquiry, but now that he's playing footsy with Bush, and coming under so much fire for his role in the bogus reports of Hussein buying uranium from Niger, I find his promises to find the truth of the incident a little less than comforting.
|
|
