Sluggish

August 10

First, things about words:

I thought this weekend would be all about the fiction, and in a way it has been -- just not about writing it. On Saturday I got an updated electronic galley of Little Gods with a note from Sean saying "Proofread fast," so that's what I did for most of today. Now all I have to do is write a little jacket flap copy!

I also got page proofs for "Romanticore", so that has to be proofread. The pages for the latter came with a printout of the illustration, and it's pretty cool, by none other than Scott Grimando, whose work I have long admired. Re-reading the story, I'm still impressed with it, and thrilled I was able to sell it, even though it's long, digressive, and idiosyncratic. I hope people like it.

The hardcover of Little Gods is available for pre-order from Shocklines!

Saturday morning I finished putting together the contents of issue 26.4 of Star*Line, very nearly wiping out my inventory in the progress -- I only have enough left to fill about a quarter of the next issue. So now's the time to submit your poems! Either via e-mail, or to the PO Box address listed over on the right.

Got a rejection from F&SF, about a week. It's only the second place the story's been, though -- and Gordon even said (paraphrasing) "I don't think you'll have a problem placing this one elsewhere, it's just not right for F&SF", so it's not like it sucks. I'll send it elsewhere this week.

Lord. We got slugs.

Friday night I went into the kitchen around 4 a.m. to get a glass of water, and stepped in something gushy. I thought it was cat poo, though the cats have yet to make a mess in the house. But then the cat poo started moving (causing me to think instantly of Clive Barker's The Great and Secret Show, and the character therein who makes snake-monsters from his own shit and jizz). I thought I was having some kind of William-Burroughs/Naked-Lunch moment, without the help of drugs. Then I saw the eyestalks.

Well, hell, a slug. Okay. I scooped it up on a piece of cardboard and chucked it out the window and went back to my reading. About 4:30 I went back in the kitchen to put my glass away... and found another slug. Gah. I chucked that one, too, but it was late, and I was tired, and I had visions of slugs crawling all over the ceiling, filling the bathtub to the rim, crawling over the headboard in the dark bedroom (more shades of Clive Barker! In Coldheart Canyon, there's a scene where the silent-movie actress is covered with slugs). Slugs are interesting, but rather gross. Kind of freaked me out, especially since it's been dry lately, and we're on the second floor, which means they're living in the walls. Yech.

No slugs on Saturday, but about ten minutes ago, yep, another slug in the kitchen. They must be crawling out of the hole in the wall under the sink, where the drywall got rotted during the previous occupant's tenancy. Heather says we can get some pet-safe slug-poison, so I guess that's the way to go.

It was a pretty uneventful weekend, as I spent most of it reading my own short stories, with a bit of laying-in-the-hammock time, and some unpacking. Add in a viewing of Chungking Express, some frolicking, lots of Diablo II, and you've got a weekend. Heather and I did go out yesterday, over to Lake & Grand. We had a nice, cheap lunch at a pretty great café, in an outdoor courtyard all draped with ivy and morning glories. Picked up a few books, too, but nothing too special, just some old paperbacks from the bargain bin. We walked around. Nice, peaceful, productive time.

Words written since February 1, 2003: 79,900

Words written since last entry:
Er...

Flytrap! Sure, we could use some extra money, if you want to help out. Maybe we could even do a color cover!