Bustin' Recaps
August 26
Whoo. I've wrote a good bit this weekend. 550 words to review Bruce Boston's lovely collection Masque of Dreams, and 3600 words on Rangergirl.
Saturday Heather and I went to Berkeley, where I wrote and read a bit. We ambled up to Telegraph Ave., me to go bookstoring (though I didn't buy anything, since I'm saving money for Worldcon), sweet Heather to shop for shoes. We came home, frolicked decadently, and then went out for some incredibly yummy sushi. Caterpillar rolls are absolutely this year's Best New Crack -- wish I could afford to eat them more often.
Coming home was scary. We were looking for parking on a side street when we saw a man sitting in a wheelchair in the middle of the road, rolling slowly forward. Another man came walking by, and the guy in the wheelchair jumped to his feet, grabbed the other man, and started choking him. This didn't look like horseplay among friends -- it looked like attempted murder. Then a third man came running up, for who knows what purpose, but by then Heather had gotten the car turned around. We zoomed around the corner, parked in the landlady's driveway, ran inside, and called the police to tell them we'd seen a mugging -- or something -- in progress.
As far as we could tell, the police never bothered to come investigate.
It's frightening to be reminded that we don't live in a good neighborhood. I mean, I know that -- people have been attacked and beaten up a block away, people have been seen waving guns around just one street over, people have been mugged in their doorways around the corner -- but it's still shocking to see it happen so close by, to feel imminently threatened, to wonder if you're going to be shot for witnessing something. And this isn't the worse part of Oakland, not by a long way.
Yet another reason to write a bestseller, make some money, and head for the hills.
Sunday was nice. I got up and read half a novel by a friend, and it's a great book. I knew the guy had chops, but this is a virtuoso piece of writing. I can't wait for it to be finished, so I can read the whole thing. Heather and I went to the Temescal Café, where I wrote a couple of scenes on Rangergirl, and figured out the solutions to a few nagging problems about the plot -- I think everything will hang together nicely, once I get it finished. Mmm. I like this book a lot. I hope agents, editors, and the reading public all do, too...
We made pasta, and I broiled some chicken, and we had a nice dinner and TV-watching-fest.
Today was work, lots of running to-and-fro, and an evening spent at home with Heather, reading, and playing Diablo II. Mmm...
In other happy news, I found out that my poem "Bacchanal" placed 9th in the poetry category of the Asimov's reader's poll, and "Incident" placed 10th. Not bad, for my first two publications in that magazine.
And that's all. I'll try to update at least once more before I leave for Worldcon on Thursday morning, but if I don't manage it, I'll be back in touch in early September.
If you're so inclined, send me mail.
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Words written since February 1, 2002: 142,200
Words written since last entry: 4,150
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Tim Pratt
P.O. Box 13222
Berkeley, CA 94712-4222
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