Okay--took Chicken in to the doctors to get a skin tag removed--the tank on the Liquid Nitrogen tank leaked, and she ended up with a three by two burn blister on her neck. The doctor was hella embarrassed, but I kept asking Chicken, "Why didn't you SAY anything?"
"I don't know. It just felt a little cold."
In a way, it sort of reminded me of two of my labors. You know, the ones where I walked in between seven and eight cm dilated and the doctors said, "So what made you finally decide to come in?"
"I don't know. I'd just had enough of that shit."
Yup--I've heard that redheads have a higher pain tolerance, and although I often think I'm the biggest baby on the planet, sometimes, sometimes, that shit is true.
I've been sort of pissy and irritable lately, and I'm not sure I know why. I mean, good shit has been HAPPENING, if you know what I mean. I think it's just that I don't know where I stand--and that I'm really tired--and that I'm a little overwhelmed. I got two courtship letters in two days--one from Amber Quill Press and one from an actual, no shit, literary agent who is asking if I'd like him to pitch my stuff. I'm floored--I'm also a little anxious. I mean, as much as I wanted shit to happen, nobody wants shit to change, you know what I mean? Besides--I'm really not good at celebrating in immediacy. I've got this character in one of the novellas on my site--Name. The hero (it's actually an m/f romance, with only a pesky little psychic ability as a wrinkle... yup. Early stuff) is Henry Kim Raitherson--H.K. for short--and he frequently underplays shit in his life. "Afraid the gods will steal your good fortune, H.K.?" "They've been known to be vicious bastards, Maddie." And that's sort of where I'm at now. I'm sure some of you are shocked, SHOCKED I say that I cannot greet good fortune with a smiling face--trust me, I'm smiling. I'm even tentatively optimistic. But I'm also pissy and irritable. Maybe sleep will help, but personally, I'm thinking knitting might be the cure.
Besides. I've got too many plot bunnies and not enough time to write. *sigh* And aint THAT always the way?
But "If I Must" got a good review today right here and appears to have experienced a boost in sales accordingly. I'm ever bemused by this little story. It's a solid four star charmer. I enjoyed writing it, I enjoyed the characters--I may be more like Ian than any other character I've ever written, which is hysterical because to a one, all of the reviewers thought he was too flaky to be real. It in no way cost me the pain, angst, or dragon writing of any of my other work, and yet this little kitty has some LEGS on it--I can't believe how far my little Manky Bastard has run. I'm very pleased--I can only hope Promise Rock does as well, you know?
And I started the last sleeve of the ass-kicking nightmare in pink. Holy crap. I may finish a sweater, and (another shocker, I know,) POST PICTURES. You'll be so pleased at what a little beauty my Squish has become. Now, if only she'd rule the world and let me nap and knit in peace for a bit, the weirdness might fade just a little.