I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Friday, April 30, 2010

Friday Brain Death

That was a week. Really. And next week isn't looking all that much better. Caught between rigid regulations, conference room decision making, and other deadlines which have slipped. Didn't get everything done that needed to be done, and I'm out of hours. My guess is, I won't get caught up next week before I'm out of hours again. The bonus is that I know I have a good aid in one person, and I'm pretty sure I have another good aid in another person. That will be my saving grace (I hope).

This week, belatedly, I posted the full manuscript for critique. Unfortunately I didn't get to do at least one full rewrite. I'm sure there's a few howlers there in the last half of chapters. Only time will reveal them. So the question now, is what to do? Should I continue with the rewrites, work on short stories, and or start/restart another novel? Finding the time will be difficult for any of it, but I really need to get back to writing.

Writing links starts with a SFWA round up of "first novel sales" data (links to other articles). then there's Joshua Palmatier is pimping Benjamin Tate's new book, Well of Sorrows. Just getting the word out.

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