Eh, G won't let me work nights, so he's preventing me from sleeping by day. This way when midnight comes and I'm ready to start working, I'm so sleepy all I can do is watch some cartoon porn and pass out. feel like watching horror-comedy, but that's usually British and British requires at least some part of the brain to be awake.... I was telling G some of the plot of the book earlier to lull him to his pre-work nap and managed to tranquilize myself.

I put the edited-so-far pages of Goose into the InDesign layout, just to see what sort of a font I'll want or what format (I like.big.books.and I cannot lie...hammer-time!) and I'm 223 pages in by those standards. This is going to be one mother of a tome. I love it when people tell me to write something a 100 pages long. That's not a book, that's a love letter. 

These days' challenge is writing the one scene in which the General makes an appearance and it has to be written so that you believe that this is a guy above others. Sure, I can write lines such as:

 You did not refuse an invitation from a man who looked like Seti Sepp SUN, unless he happened  to be advancing on you with a running chain saw and even then a part of your brain was like: heck it, I gotsta go some time… 

 

...But it's a *show, don't tell* sort of a narrative, so it would be amateurish to expect a reader to take my word for it, just because I hammer it in. 

Incidentally dyed the General's beard red. Okay, pink. He is not happy.

Actually had a pleasant day uphill, over family lunch. A precious, rare occurrence. Mum and I went around to get fruit from gran... Can it be that indeed the shorter our stays, the more genuinely, urgently loving they are? Naa, surely it is a coincidence that if I stay for more than an hour, we always get into a gruesome name-calling and bickering and over-all unpleasantness ... Surely it must be.

The General is on the grave-yard shift and I am on the 136th page of the first chapter and the part where things are supposed to start finally improving for Kay. She is told to find her own footing and get a lot smarter (and, in a way, given an estate on which to rebuild her mistakes). She is now ready to emerge with a vengeance. So, things are supposed to return from angst to comedy. And adventure. I'm still deciding whether to include some of the old stories, some of the interviews, to show how quirky she can be... But then I have yet two major conundrums to crack: all of Morpheus' best lines have already been taken by his heir and what is the point of all this to begin with? Alright, so they are pagans and they could be mighty when they choose not to, but what they really need is that other shoe dropping that will make the readers shit themselves when they realize what it is they've just read. 

Gotsta come up with just those two kicks. Just those two. And then it'll be a cool book.

Did I mention Robert Galbraith, a young-soldier-turned-writer sold only 1500 hard copies of Cuckoo's Calling until the publicist "incidentally leaked" that's actually J.K. Rawling's latest book? I am 34th on the waiting list in the library, translated into a language that's about 204th on the list of popular languages on the planet. Just saying. Good or bad book, I am fucked.

Lazy day. Been sending mail to myself all day. (Before you judge - I do that with the drafts to make sure they are secure even if lightning strikes my comp.) I made my first milk rice dessert, which turned into four pounds on inedible mush with chocolate on top. Poor dog.

Off to read. Too lazy to do WoW dailies. Too lazy to watch YouTube videos. Downloaded a couple of movies, but too lazy to watch them. To lazy to press 'publish' on this post, also... Oh, no, there it is.

Me: Do you like it when I walk this way, moving my booty sexy like that?
G: No, because that's not you. Your walk is that of a redneck lumberjack in a hurry to get to the bathroom.
Me: But when other women walk moving like that, do you like it on them?
G: .... Yes, you are EXACTLY the one person I am going to talk to about it.

Me: I love you so.
G: Why?
Me: Cause you are statuesque. Why do you love me?
G: Because you are everything else.



O.o

Had a nightmare last night in which my dad was a hatchet murderer in a raincoat and my sister was frozen in a meat truck and cut to look like a christmas tree decoration, hanging from a meat hook, and I tried to warn my neighbours of danger and got cut on broken glass, then stabbed and I woke up ...
... Thinking: Are you kidding me? A cheap jump-scare slasher nighmare that wouldn't get 12% on Rotten Tomatoes?! Come ON, brain! ...