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So here I am, I have things to finish and things to start, I have a whole new novel-sequence to write, with deadlines and everything; and the play is over, all my excuses are gone; so am I working?
Am I hell. I dunno, I've gone all flubbsy and uncommitted.
Yesterday (Good Friday, which you know, and so did I; but I needed to know the date, and I never do, so I looked in my TV listings mag. Which had it identified only as Good Friday, no date attached. Which is entirely contrary to its usual habit, and I had to look back to see 'Thursday 5th April' on the previous day to figure out the date I needed; but I could barely remember why I needed it, because I was so puzzled by this. I mean, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, sure, those are fixed and the name identifies the date; but regardless how you feel about religious prevalence, Good Friday is so absolutely not a date, it's utterly inadequate as a descriptor, rant rant...) m'friend'n'guru Alex came round, and we spent five hours - coolly on his part, fretfully on mine - upgrading various varieties of Linux on various machines. It took longer than expected, largely because we had to download a different version of the distro for this machine - which rather weirdly has AMD 64-bit architecture on Intel dual-core 32-bit chips, according to its own report - and I went trotting off in mid-process to buy a pint of milk in order to supply Alex with tainted tea, which was of course the exact ten minutes that my new editor chose to phone. From America. Eek!
It was all right, though, he called back again an hour later, by which time I'd almost stopped jittering and we could have an intelligent conversation. I was so pleased, though: how long is it, since a new editor called me just to say hullo, full of enthusiasm and excitement over the project? Answer, about ten years. John Jarrold would have been the one, with the Outremer series. JJ is now my agent; these people are rare, and not to be let go of.
Am I hell. I dunno, I've gone all flubbsy and uncommitted.
Yesterday (Good Friday, which you know, and so did I; but I needed to know the date, and I never do, so I looked in my TV listings mag. Which had it identified only as Good Friday, no date attached. Which is entirely contrary to its usual habit, and I had to look back to see 'Thursday 5th April' on the previous day to figure out the date I needed; but I could barely remember why I needed it, because I was so puzzled by this. I mean, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, sure, those are fixed and the name identifies the date; but regardless how you feel about religious prevalence, Good Friday is so absolutely not a date, it's utterly inadequate as a descriptor, rant rant...) m'friend'n'guru Alex came round, and we spent five hours - coolly on his part, fretfully on mine - upgrading various varieties of Linux on various machines. It took longer than expected, largely because we had to download a different version of the distro for this machine - which rather weirdly has AMD 64-bit architecture on Intel dual-core 32-bit chips, according to its own report - and I went trotting off in mid-process to buy a pint of milk in order to supply Alex with tainted tea, which was of course the exact ten minutes that my new editor chose to phone. From America. Eek!
It was all right, though, he called back again an hour later, by which time I'd almost stopped jittering and we could have an intelligent conversation. I was so pleased, though: how long is it, since a new editor called me just to say hullo, full of enthusiasm and excitement over the project? Answer, about ten years. John Jarrold would have been the one, with the Outremer series. JJ is now my agent; these people are rare, and not to be let go of.