Not Another Entry About the Moon
June 17
I'm reading The Mount by Carol Emshwiller, and good lord and butter, it's good! I'm a fan of Carol's work anyway, but this is fast becoming my favorite thing she's done.
I got a couple of rejections today, not totally surprising ones -- they were longshots, honestly. I got one of them via e-mail just as I was sitting down to write tonight, and I decided to note the rejection in my submission log... at which point I noticed that I had a lot of stories I needed to send out. 8 stories, in fact, that have come back over the past few weeks. Eep. That was letting things slide even for me. So I sat down with various market lists (Ralan's, mostly) and figured out where to send stuff and they're all out, now, every story (except for a few I need to revise to varying degrees, but that's old news; I'll get around to it eventually). I have 23 stories currently in circulation (well, "currently" means "as of tomorrow morning, when I put envelopes in the mail"); let us all hope that the number dwindles at a rapid pace!
Because of all that market-researching and cover-letter-writing and envelope-addressing, I didn't write a single word, sigh. I'll make up for it tomorrow, I hope.
I got the new issue of The Magazine of Speculative Poetry today, edited by the gifted Roger Dutcher. It's so good -- amazing work by fabulous poets (including Mark Rudolph, Tracina Jackson-Adams, Marge Simon, and others). Heather has the magazine now, so I can't refer to it, but every poem impressed me, and several of them totally floored me. Excellent stuff; MSP is always excellent. Good editorial, too, about helping poetry survive... which you can do, by subscribing to MSP, or Star*Line, or Dreams & Nightmares, or Mythic Delirium, or... well, I could go on, but you get the idea.
Work was pretty nice... the issue has to be done by Wednesday, so it's plenty busy. I went to the gym tonight, stretched, did a crazy number of sit-ups, did some cardio, then went to Au Coquelet, where I drank coffee and gently, passively lusted after a beautiful young woman who was (I overheard) going to a goth club in the city tonight. I hope she had fun. I didn't stare, actually, but I noticed her when I came in, and was aware of her presence... it was one of those pleasant warm nights when seeing a beautiful woman seems to complete something, some small circuit, that makes everything that much more vivid and nice; a pleasure-to-be-alive night...
My only complaint about the evening is that I didn't get to spend enough time with Heather; we were out of synch at the gym, so we didn't work out together, and apart from watching an episode of Buffy and eating soup together, we didn't hang out much at home, either... too bad. I love her. There's just not enough time in the world for all the loving her I have to do.
Words written since February 1, 2002: 91,330
Words written since last entry: None, but I sent out 8 stories, so, whoo.
Mmm. Poetry. Send me poems. I love poems.
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