Q: Oy! Where’s the SF Signal article you wuz gonna have fer us on Monday?
A: It is…currently about 3,500 words long and growing. Definitely the longest thing I’ve done for them since I wittered on ceaselessly about every Star Trek thing in existence. Late Saturday night, I was writing and writing and it stretched on longer in front of me. I thought about doing a two-parter (and it may be published as such), but I need to write it through to the end first. If nothing else, so I know where to split it.
Q: Does this make you a flake?
A: I like to think of it as late-but-working-hard. Anyway, I was up extremely late working on it. That rules out flaking. And so does a good shampoo. I’m just saying.
Q: All right. So you’re caught up on short stories? You must be, if you’re blogging.
A: Not really, no. Still toiling away. The one story, the one with the dead and trains and stuff in it, that one’s stalled while I do some historical research. I need about a day’s worth of reading on trains, World War II, France, and a couple of other details. And then it’s straight on ’til the end.
Q: Okay, then are you working on something else while that one stands still?
A: Yep. Just started on my spookshow story this morning. As my morning tea cools, April is going down into the basement. In a moment, she’s going to prick her finger.
Q: And what —
A: And I’m working on my homework which is never-ending. Though at least I’m not falling behind. Hey-o.
Q: And what —
A: And I’ve got a metric shit-ton of dishes and laundry to get done, although I may be exaggerating slightly for effect. And I really need to pack up even more books.
Q: But what —
A: If Atlas has to hold up the Heavens for all time (he doesn’t have THE EARTH on his shoulders as one is erroneously told; it’s the heavens) and Loki gets venom dripped in his eyes, then I suppose I’m cursed to spend all eternity packing and unpacking my books, endlessly hauling heavy boxes of them in and out of closets, forever…
Q: For god’s sakes…
A: Are we done?
Q: NO! I NEED TO ASK…
Q: GOD YOU MAKE ME SO MAD!
A: That wasn’t a question, though.
A: I guess we’re done here.