desperance (desperance) wrote,
desperance
desperance

The drilling in the wall kept up, but no one seemed to pay it any mind

I have the brain weasels quite badly, as it seems. The more I have to do, the less I'm able. A week ago I was all, "Right, then. Crater School it is, until I'm done. Forth Eorlingas!"

Only I have this copy-edit to wrap up for Lethe, that I had a month to finish and now that's two weeks, and it's a long book. So okay, Crater School and that. Writing and editing, two different processes, I can mix-and-match between 'em. Onward and upward!

Only I have a short story to write for an antho, due in a month. I've been poking at it - it's a companion-piece to "Ashes to Ashes", the space station pilots'-bar story I wrote for a David Bowie tribute charity antho; apparently I'm not done with that bar yet - but it needs a lot of thinking. Yesterday's thought was "Oh look, two stories make a series: obviously they must all take their titles from Bowie. 'Changes' is thematically good, but dull; do I dare risk 'Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes'?"

So okay, Crater school and copy-edit and short story. Excelsior!

Only today I received the scanned-and-OCR'd text of the first of the Outremer books: for yes, my long-lost Crusader fantasy will be coming into e-book form at last. And in the way of scans and OCR, the text is a hot mess as we speak, so I need to pick my way through that with tweezers and a cold eye. Also I need to read it, because I haven't done that in twenty years.

So yeah. Crater School and copy-edit and short story and a proof job that's probably a revision. In a month.

And this morning I was standing before the open freezer muttering, "Where are my brains? I swear I had some brains..."

Happily, Karen didn't hear me.
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