Down to the Bone
March 5
I'm stone broke, y'all. Going to the wedding last weekend ate my extra money, and though I got paid yesterday, all my bills are due in the first half of the month, so that money's already gone. February's a short month, so I didn't have as many hours as usual in the last pay period, and to top it off I had to pay a traffic ticket (illegal U-turn in a business district; I'm an outlaw, is what I am). The result? I have $17 in my checking account, 6 and a half bucks in cash and mixed change (enough for parking meters, and BART fare to the Y a couple of times this week), and the dismal amount I've managed to keep in savings, which I pretend doesn't exist, so I won't be tempted to loot it. Poverty, thy name is me. It's PovertyFest 2002.
Things could be worse, though, far and away. My bills are paid, after all. My car's got enough gas to last all month. And we've got food, a whole crate of organic fruits and vegetables (we've signed up with this crazy vegetable-delivery thing, for a number of reasons; it's not as cheap as going to the store, but it's great quality stuff, and it saves lots of time, which is the main thing in short supply around here; well, money's short now, but I mean usually). So there's loads of stuff in there, and Heather bought a big loaf of French bread, and we've got the usual tons of pasta and rice and such... I won't starve. I'll even eat well. I just won't eat out, which is where most of my disposable income generally goes. I love restaurants. It's a dangerous love.
In writing news: A three and one-half month rejection from The Third Alternative. Fairly nice, pseudo-personal. Ah, well. But, in happier news, my story "Bone Sigh" is up at Twilight Showcase, and it looks good. It's a weird little horror story about obsessions and love and looking for God in all the wrong places. Go forth, and read. Other writers this issue are John Urbancik and Tom Piccirilli, both fine horror writers who are out of my league. I'm in good company. Somebody already recommended my story for a Stoker, which is nice; the rec is from a writer I quite respect, too.
So now I have, um, four stories I should send out. I even know where they're going. But for some reason I haven't gotten around to printing them or addressing envelopes or anything. Presumably I'll do so sometime this week...
I listened to a lot of Beck tonight, shuffling through the various CDs (including Stereopathetic Soul Manure and One Foot in the Grave, being as I'm a completist; I should really get mp3s of Golden Feelings and A Western Harvest Field By Moonlight, too... that's a project for when we finally get DSL, methinks). I listened to "Modesto" and "Nitemare Hippy Girl" and "Satan Gave Me A Taco" and "Cyanide Breath Mint" and so on. As often happens, Beck got me all bouncy and revved up, so I sat down and wrote in a more devil-may-care fashion than I have in a long time, just having fun with the words, rocking back and forth in the seat while I typed. I did 1000 words in about twenty minutes, a wholly unplanned and unexpected but very cool scene for Rangergirl, which actually managed to accomplish something I'd been wanting to accomplish in the book; that was a nice plus, since I just wanted to write a cool scene with greasy engine parts and tie-dyed blankets and cap guns. I succeeded at that, and it's relevant to the novel, too! Whee!
(this is so unchronological; ah, well)
I hung out with Heather this evening, after making her a fine dinner of burritos. We watched Buffy; such a good episode. There've been some disappointing ones this season, but the show's still got lots of guts and integrity. Good stuff.
I finally made my Rhysling nominations and sent them off today, something else I'd been dragging my feet on for no particular reason. I nominated poems that I bought for Speculon, of course... It looks like I'm going to be editing the Rhysling anthology, too... should be fun. I just have to proof the poems and put them in order (most likely strict alphabetical) and so on, maybe do some intro-type front matter... Last night I had a little slush party and answered almost all the submissions in my e-mail. Still need to do the paper submissions, though...
Work was busy busy busy today. Lots and lots of corrections from the proofreaders, which took all morning; then doing some proofing of my own; then laying some stuff out. Nice, though... it made the day zoom by. Yesterday my boss fed us dim sum; today I ate a couple of raspberry-filled chocolate candies we had in the office. The managing editor is listening to tapes of a radio dramatization of The Lord of the Rings on a boom box, so for much of the day I listened to British people talking about hobbits. I'm not a fan of the trilogy, but the voice actors were good, especially Gollum, who sounded pretty much like Gollum sounds in my head. On my break I read some of Brightness Falls from the Air and The Spike. Went downtown to run an errand and resisted the urge to spend half of my cash on a latté; I'm so used to indulging little impulse-buys like that. I feel like I'm in college again, living on the bleak edge... but it's okay. I'll endure. I have some writing checks coming, and perhaps they'll arrive within the next couple of weeks... and in two weeks I get paid again, and I have no bills at all in the back half of the month, so I'll be flush again. But in the meantime, don't expect riveting tales of late nights in cafés. I'll be drinking my lattés at home, it seems, and entertaining myself with reading and writing and love...
Words written since February 1, 2002: 22,250
Words written today: 1,000
Let's cut to the chase. Just send money.
Tim Pratt Join my notify list
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Berkeley, CA 94712-4222