This one time at Writer's Camp…
Oh wow, a day off from work. I think I remember what these feel like. I’m supposed to, uh… rest? I dunno.
As I mentioned the other day, I’m waiting on two more submissions I have out right now. One of them have great chances of being picked up by the editor; the other was an experiment in voice and point of view narrative that may not be what they’re looking for. I’m fine with that, though, because they were for the same anthology and the second was written on a whim. My Alpha Reader didn’t understand it when she read it, so I suppose it’s a true experiment.
I’m so far behind on reviews right now it’s pretty horrible. I’ve got to do James Enge’s A Guile of Dragons, Clay and Susan Griffith’s The Kingmakers, and Maurice Broaddus’s King Maker (sense a theme here? I did). After that I’ll have just enough time to pack and move into my new place.
I think the pace of this crazy year should be slowing down soon. It was strange. One minute it was April, the next it’s August and I’m still trying to figure out how the hell that happened. They’re right, you know. Time, as a linear concept, gets all wibbly-wobbly once you add temporal physics and old age into the mix. I just hope that I’ll have time to enjoy it before it gets too wibbly-wobbly for me to recognize.
I mean, I haven’t even had time to play Civ. That’s a serious lack of time, people, when I can’t afford the luxury of crushing my enemy AI’s into historical ashes.