What the day did to me
Aug. 18th, 2006 07:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceIt was planned, today was. There were people coming this afternoon to insulate my loft; and yet, I did have to go into town; and yet, I really did want to scoot through the play and send it off.
So, I planned it. I was up, I had drunk coffee, I had the play in my bag and the boots on my feet; I was going into town, to the Lit & Phil, where I would scan & scribble on the play till I was content. Then I would shop for coffee & mushrooms, and be home for noon for the insulators.
It wasn't just raining; it was thundering. Downpouring. Stair-rodding.
No matter. I had said; it was decided. I walked into town.
I got very, very wet.
I dripped, in the Lit & Phil. Loudly, in the Silence Room. Happily I was alone, but even so I felt guilty. And went on dripping.
And read the play, & scribbled all over it as per The Plan; and went shopping after - yes, in the rain, getting wetter - and bought coffee & mushrooms and sundry books and such, and so came home.
To find a message from the insulators, saying that their van had broken down and they weren't coming.
So I sat around wetly and worked on the play, and sent it off (God, I do love e-mail and all its attachments) just in time to open a bottle of wine and watch 'Show Boat', while Himself began his usual it's-only-two-hours-till-supper-time-and-I'm-hungry-now fussing. To which I am so inured that - to my eternal shame - when the movie was over I came straight upstairs humming "Ol' Man River" and checked my e-mail.
And found a message from my editor, about 'River of the World'. And suddenly didn't dare open it (fyi, new readers - the comparable e-mail about the previous book, 'Bridge of Dreams', led to a year of bitterness, crisis & rewrites, from which I have still not recovered financially, emotionally or professionally. And I still say she was wrong), so recovered my standing in Barry's eyes by suddenly noticing & feeding him, and then opening another bottle of wine instead.
But did at last open the e-mail - and s'okay, she gets this one. She likes it. She wants easy rewrites, sensible stuff. That I can do, and I don't even need to hate her.
So now I know what I'm doing for the rest of this month, which had been a bit of an open question until this. What I'm doing for the rest of this day is drinking more wine. I like wine.
So, I planned it. I was up, I had drunk coffee, I had the play in my bag and the boots on my feet; I was going into town, to the Lit & Phil, where I would scan & scribble on the play till I was content. Then I would shop for coffee & mushrooms, and be home for noon for the insulators.
It wasn't just raining; it was thundering. Downpouring. Stair-rodding.
No matter. I had said; it was decided. I walked into town.
I got very, very wet.
I dripped, in the Lit & Phil. Loudly, in the Silence Room. Happily I was alone, but even so I felt guilty. And went on dripping.
And read the play, & scribbled all over it as per The Plan; and went shopping after - yes, in the rain, getting wetter - and bought coffee & mushrooms and sundry books and such, and so came home.
To find a message from the insulators, saying that their van had broken down and they weren't coming.
So I sat around wetly and worked on the play, and sent it off (God, I do love e-mail and all its attachments) just in time to open a bottle of wine and watch 'Show Boat', while Himself began his usual it's-only-two-hours-till-supper-time-and-I'm-hungry-now fussing. To which I am so inured that - to my eternal shame - when the movie was over I came straight upstairs humming "Ol' Man River" and checked my e-mail.
And found a message from my editor, about 'River of the World'. And suddenly didn't dare open it (fyi, new readers - the comparable e-mail about the previous book, 'Bridge of Dreams', led to a year of bitterness, crisis & rewrites, from which I have still not recovered financially, emotionally or professionally. And I still say she was wrong), so recovered my standing in Barry's eyes by suddenly noticing & feeding him, and then opening another bottle of wine instead.
But did at last open the e-mail - and s'okay, she gets this one. She likes it. She wants easy rewrites, sensible stuff. That I can do, and I don't even need to hate her.
So now I know what I'm doing for the rest of this month, which had been a bit of an open question until this. What I'm doing for the rest of this day is drinking more wine. I like wine.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-18 06:48 pm (UTC)Re: 'River of the World' - I was perusing the Spring 2007 catalogs and I saw it there for April.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-18 09:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-18 08:08 pm (UTC)I got very damp and drippy last wednesday. Such fun.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-18 09:01 pm (UTC)I am glad, Chaz. Sending a hug.
Hope you did get dry in the end!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-18 10:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-19 03:22 pm (UTC)Getting wet is only fun if you can get dry reasonably soon afterwards...
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-19 07:27 pm (UTC)Grand news about your editor. Champion, in fact! Though I can't yet pre-order from Amazon, be assured I am checking regularly.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-20 08:44 am (UTC)Or it should be available at Alt:Fiction next year, and so should I.
But if you are ordering books from Amazon - any books, not just mine - be aware that if you go to my site (www.chazbrenchley.co.uk) and click on the Amazon link from there, then I get a wee percentage of everything you buy. Just sayin'. (Friends are encouraged to delete their regular Amazon link and replace it with mine, so's they don't even have to remember...)