"Art Is The Reason I Get Up In The Morning"
June 29
9:15 a.m.
I have successfully awakened early on a Saturday. Now we shall see whether or not I can make a productive morning out of it.
There. Answered my e-mail. Off to a rollicking start.
Sleeping on the couch (which I did last night so that Heather could sleep more easily; she's been exhausted lately) apparently hit the overdrive button on my dream-engine, because I had some wild ones last night. I dreamed a famous writer wanted to collaborate on a children's book with me... that people kept trying to break into my house with crowbars... that I made out with an old friend, who gave me very precise instructions on how to properly make out with her... that I took a BART train to France, to an enormous yet strangely rustic mall, where I wandered around and windowshopped and chatted with this gay guy about our various sexual experiences... very strange. Nothing that would be much good to put in a story, though, and nothing interesting enough to send to Slow Wave, but oh well. It's not like I expect my sleeping hours to be productive.
Okay. Off to shower now, and then, perchance, to write.
5:08 p.m
I wrote a couple thousand words of Rangergirl, then came down and told Heather how cool I am, that I rule, and etc. The writing went well, in other words. We went to the Temescal café ("North Oakland's Living Room"), where they had the whole storefront open (it's big sliding-glass doors) to the beautiful outdoors. We had breakfast, sat in the breeze, I drank three big cups of coffee, and we worked... I picked out poems, mostly, for my first issue of Star*Line, which will be coming out in a couple of months. I have so much good poetry. Life rules. I also read some of Scott Nicholson's The Red Church, which is wonderful, as good as any of his best work, which is very good indeed. Buy it; it's inexpensive, and I doubt you'll be disappointed. He's a fabulous storyteller.
I convinced Heather to go with me to Dark Carnival, where much browsing ensued, and we bought a few issues of Horror Garage, because I really like the magazine, and hadn't read these. It's stuff to read while striding away on the cardio machines at the gym, and also serves to simultaneously freak out the normals! Whoo!
Came home and read a bit, and frolicked, then felt bizarrely woozy-and-wired at the same time, like my blood pressure was dropping. Apparently it was too much caffeine and not enough food, because I ate a sandwich and everything was much improved.
(Oh, backfill: I went to the gym last night, but only did stretching and abdominal stuff, because I was feeling stuffy-headed and runny-nosed. Also saw someone I really don't like in the BART station, which slightly soured my mood, though there was no interaction, and I don't think they noticed me at all... I'm annoyed that their presence affected me at all, because I don't want them to have even that amount of power over me... ah, well. Slave to my memories, automatic reactions, it's just a tropism which will fade in time...)
Let's see, yesterday we got payment for our story in Slow Trains, and today I got paid for my poem "9 Arguments for Blowing up the Moon", which appeared in Star*Line a bit ago ($3.82! Poetry pays so well!). More money for the Worldcon fund which, truth be told, is coming along nicely. Got a rejection yesterday from Asimov's, he said the story was good but he didn't want it, didn't really say why. Fair enough; I think he's rejected better stories of mine, so it doesn't sting much. It's nice that I seem to consistently get personal rejections from him now, though...
Heather's going out with Holly tonight, leaving me alone, alone, woe is me. Don't know what I'll do. Read and write a lot, I imagine. Right now I have to flee the heat in my garret, though. Be back later.
Interlude
Okay, so, the google game:
- Tim is now featured on the International Racquetball Tour Web Site!
- Tim is ideal for a couple, a couple with a child or as a sabbatical hideaway.
- Tim is Rock & Roll's legendary bassist
- Tim is a handy time-saving command line utility
- TIM is a program that promotes alternative modes of transportation.
- Tim is not one, Tim is many
- Tim is back in Afrikah! Praise the Lord!!
- Tim is quite a good alternative to kites like the "Psycho" or the "Box of tricks".
- Tim is a simple man with simple needs
- Tim is Dead
- Tim is more or less self-explanatory
I especially like the last one.
9:04 p.m.
The Sims is an evil game. I meant to entertain myself briefly, and the next thing I know, it's 2.5 hours later. I honestly have no idea how the time passed without my noticing. At least when I play Diablo I have the satisfaction of killing demons. What's the satisfaction in playing The Sims? I helped a dude pee, and told him not to leave his dirty dishes on the floor. That's no kind of fun. I'm not gonna play it again.
1:17 a.m.
I spent the evening reading a bit, journals and The Spook and short stories, and watching bad television. Heather came home and brought me a wonderful cherry milkshake, because she's an angel of light. And now, I'm for bed.
Words written since February 1, 2002: 97,980
Words written since last entry: 2,200
High protein monkey chow! And a monkey to eat it!
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