Juggernaut interruptus

Yesterday I was being all mighty and doing everything, and I did mean to post a link to the page m'wife set up on Facebook, promoting a gig I have at Sunnyvale Library - only then I had to go and murder all our darlings, hers and mine together. So I neglected to be the mighty promo machine, and failed to score two actual book-related posts in the same day.

So: if you're within reach of the Bay Area on November 5th (when else? British literary fireworks! with a guy!), come to Sunnyvale Library at 7.00pm, and I will read to you from two books consecutively. It'll be fun.

Day, you are off

I seem to be having an off-day. Or possibly a day off. *shrugs*

Two days ago, I was shagged out by a long quack, currying two ducks with a host of side dishes (pickled garlic, people: you need to pickle your own garlic, for fresh home-made pickled garlic is the bomb, as we say in these parts).

Yesterday was all work all day, murdering our darlings: there was a story by Mr & Mrs Brenchley, that began the day at 12.5K and ended it at nine, and you wouldn't believe how intense that was, and we may have eaten pizza after.

Today I had to prove to the gov'mint that I was still myself, that this face was my face and these fingers my fingers. That took the morning. But I was of firm intent to work on Mars this afternoon - and nada. Nix. I read the internets. I talked of heading to the library, but I never got further than the mailbox (to prove to the county that Mac is not a dog, and that both these cats are our cats, and their rabies vaccinations are up to date, and so forth). Now I have bought wine and abandoned plans to do anything more useful than to empty those nasty cluttering bottles and so throw them out. I might, I just might clean the stove before I make a mess of it again (I have pork loin and mushrooms and onions and mustard and potatoes and brussels sprouts and balsamic: that sounds like a meal to me) - but I ain't making no promises. I might just sit and read. Or I might just sit.