I'm coughing like the devil has taken up residence in my lungs and has started up the forges for the appropriate roasting of the damned. But, I'm better than I was earlier in the week; but, I'm also not hung over, so perhaps that may have something to do with it. Anyway, with the continued effects of my cold, I wasn't as productive today as I had hoped -- but I just remembered that my resolution on my birthday was to be nicer to myself this year, so let me rephrase. I accomplished quite a bit, really. I did two loads of laundry, accumulated and sent in the necessary information for an ad that I'm buying, sent several emails back and forth with my cover designer over the blurbs we're including on the back covers (which are now done! and so they will look lovely if you choose to buy a paperback instead of an ebook), made breakfast (bacon and oatmeal), cleaned the kitchen, brought my new desk chair upstairs, wrote a couple hundred words, made some killer chili for dinner, and watched tv with Terry. That's pretty respectable, right?
Eh. If I could just focus on marketing and business right now, I would be a happy camper. But I have to slog forward (and quickly) on Malcolm and Amelia's book, which quickly turned from "oh this will be easy!" to "I want to make a noose from my entrails and hang myself from the Golden Gate Bridge while cursing their names with my dying breath". In the moments when I am most annoyed about revisiting them, and most enjoying the business/marketing side of tings, I begin to doubt myself and wonder if I should just crawl back to corporate America and strive to reach the 1% so that I can buy some third world kid's entrails for a noose if I want to kill myself someday. But I somehow doubt that is the solution to my problems, even if I would pay the kid's family handsomely. No, I want to be a writer, and I am a writer, and I just have to stay true to that and not let myself be seduced by what is easy for me when I know that I can write a great book.
I fear that tonight's wild tangents may have scared you off, so if you're still here, allow me to say goodnight properly. I'm going to go to bed now (at 11:30 - I know, crazy), so that I can get up tomorrow and fight the good fight with my manuscript while railing at my characters, my defective lungs, my stress case stomach, and anything else I can think to rail against. But at least I'll be railing from the comfort of my new desk chair -- it's truly wonderful, and was the brightest of bright spots in my day. You can see a picture of it (with my desk and writing accoutrements in the background) here -- goodnight!
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