this is the bit where the brain starts to splinter

I keep losing days. Today is Monday, apparently, but I'm pretty sure yesterday was Saturday. This means I'm either going insane, becoming ever more inattentive, Sunday was totally and utterly exactly the same as Saturday and thus they blurred into the one day in my memory… or Sunday just vanished out the calendar.

I'm betting on the last one. For sure.

My inattentiveness and the sameness of my days would have nothing to do with the deathmarch status of the revisions, nosiree, why do you ask?

In other truly momentous news, yesterday (er, Saturday?), Spawn greeted Brutus with the phrase "Hey, Brutus!"1

Wiktory! My work here is done.

  1. For those who are curious, yes, I do actually call them Spawn and Brutus in person as well as on the blog, although expediency sometimes forces me to revert to their real christened names instead. Not often, though. []

and to top it off, it's cicada season

I'm nose-deep in the final stretch of the current round of edits1 on Pledged, and it's a good thing that my A&U sent me my author's copies of Shdadow Queen because I kid you not, I can't remember the story. Oh, I know the gist, but the details, the details are killing me. I have no idea which of the myriad details of the myriad versions made it into the final published copy. Is this normal? It's probably normal. Let's at least all pretend it's normal.

In other news, my listening history on Last.FM is really taking a beating now that I can't have iTunes running. Plus, it's really quiet-like, and hard to concentrate. Also, and here's a sign of just how much I'd come to rely on iTunes for my music, I'm currently not coping with the fact that my CD player only plays one CD at a time. That's only 50-70 minutes of music, and then I have to physically get up and change the CD. Oh, the humanity!

  1. For those keeping track at home, or attempting to, this would be what I call the gamma draft, or the draft which, when completed, can be shown to my editor []

the next day mr earbrass is conscious but very little more

Beta draft done.

Brain broken.

Send (alcoholic) aid.

it's not my fault!

State of the Beta Draft: the dog Stephen Moffat ate my homework.

So, okay, the beta draft is STILL not done. I have swapped panicked moaning for cheerful lunacy and singing like a seagull. It's so much more fun for all involved.

There's an astonishing array of seagull moods available: there's panicked seagull, introspective seagull, pensive seagull, yawping seagull… The list is endless. And the best part of it all is that seagulls are not particularly tuneful birds, so there's very little pressure to perform so far as trivial issues like tone and pitch are concerned. The more jagged and jarring the better!

I tried to finish the beta draft last night, honest I did, but I couldn't. It's all that Moffat bloke's fault.1 There I was, humming (un)tunefully in the manner of a lovesick seagull, when the TV starts up with Jekyll.

Interesting, I'd thought on seeing the ads, but potentially sleep-depriving.2 Then my friend tells me it's written by Moffat, who wrote that amazing weeping angels episode of the third season of Doctor Who, not to mention the gas-masked child episode of the first season of Doctor Who and the girl in the fireplace episode of the second season. Moffat story! I think. No matter how scary it might be, I must watch. I will, I think (by now I'm a virtuous seagull, you see), work on the revisions at the same time.

I tried. I couldn't. The show was too good, and I had to pay attention — and honestly, I'd be done now if that Moffat bloke couldn't write.

  1. Okay, some of it might be the novel's fault. If the thing would just stop growing, I might not have needed to spend 11 hours each on Saturday and Sunday wrestling with it without actually finishing. []
  2. I am, you see, particularly easy to terrorise. []

state of the beta draft

STILL NOT DONE.

ARGH.

two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl

State of the Beta Draft: still not done. (Orcs Words slaughtered: Thousands of the buggers. Literally. But they're growing back again!)

State of the Author: ugh. Did I write any of this novel the first time around? I ask only for information.

Here, have a dragon instead. I can't remember his actual name any more, but I'm pretty sure it had 'sailed' and 'water' in it, and for some reason I want to add Portuguese.

saileddragon.jpg

Now there's a jaw which hasn't seen any need to evolve in the last few millennia. And those are some funky-shaped digits. Apologies for the green tinge to the photo: I had to tilt the camera to avoid glare from the cage wall.

you're going where…?

The deathmarch continues unabated. I have now abandoned all pretence of understanding the rules of grammar or syntax, the meaning of any given word in the english language, and indeed appropriate times to laugh or talk. Apparently you shouldn't indulge either impulse while you're alone. Who knew? Pshaw, I say. Friends and family are beginning to suspect I've written a terribly funny novel. Little do they know it's the laugh of a desperate and mad woman, bemused by the weight of her own words.

To add spice to the mixture, I've been trying to book my flights for the trip away. I've stopped telling people I'm going to Bhutan, and started telling them I'm going to the Himalayas, since even travel agents are looking at me blankly and saying "Where? Where's that?"

Visited the GP to check out what vaccinations I'll need. Health and travel websites list a whole range of fun preventable diseases, such as polio and rabies and malaria and japanese encephalitis. The GP spent most of the consultation telling me I didn't really need to bother with the vaccinations.

Malaria? Oh, there's not really any need for malaria meds. They're such a hassle, you see, and the Himalayas are quite high up. If you head down into any of the valleys … well, maybe just stay up high, won't you?

Polio? Oh, you've probably already had a polio vaccination. No need to bother with another of those.

Rabies? H'm. I understand there is a bit of a street dog problem in Bhutan, and of course it's not just dogs you need to worry about, it's any mammal. So probably no need to worry about a rabies vaccination before you go. Just… if you do get bitten, by anything, do make sure you get the post-exposure rabies vaccination as soon as you get home, won't you? Because it's quite fatal, after all.

Me, boggling: You mean, as opposed to moderately fatal?

Oh, yes, he says, and if you develop a strange fever about six months after returning home, and you can't figure out what it is, do try and remember it might be malaria, and get treatment — because that's moderately fatal.