If we were having coffee, I’d for damn sure be having tea or juice this time. I had a day earlier this week where I was so tired and half-dead that I made a pot of coffee at 11 AM– a full two hours after I’m usually done with coffee for the day– and drank the entire thing myself. You may recall a recent coffee chat we had where I showed you my new Walking Dead mug. One of the things I’ve done a lot of this weekend is home improvement tasks; I hung a new mirror in the bathroom yesterday and we went to my parents’ today and tore out the old toilet and installed a new one. My wife and I were greeted with those two monstrosities above. The coffee cup on the right is a reasonable person’s coffee cup. I can fit two full Walking Dead cups into each of those ridiculous bastards. They aren’t for coffee. That’s, like, a pot each. They have to be for, like, soup or something.
I wouldn’t have a whole lot to talk about, actually; a not-infrequent theme of these posts and the natural consequence of writing about my nonsense life every single day on the blog anyway. I somehow still have not sold an ebook in January, and that issue might come up, because it’s starting to get to me. I did sell one book in print, and I picked up a really nice review of Searching for Malumba today (check the previous post) but I have sold a total of three ebooks on Amazon in the last month, a drought of nearly-unprecedented nature. Please, for the love of God, if you ever read ebooks and have $5 to spare, check something out. My confidence is starting to take a hit here. 🙂
Let’s see. Writing on Sunlight has gone well, although I’ve officially reached the part in the outline where it just goes ??? DRAMA ACTION SCARY STUFF MYSTERY ??? MAYBE A HAMSTER ??? and part of me feels like I’m closer to the end than I really want to be. I wrote 1100 words of something today, unrelated to anything else I’ve done, that popped into my head whole and complete while I was taking a shower and came with such intensity that I rushed through shaving my head so that I didn’t lose anything and ended up cutting the shit out of my scalp.
You would have noticed the Band-Aid already, and so that part might actually come up first. But seriously: I wrote 1100 words of fiction during the time it took my wife to take a shower. If you know anything about my process, you know how ridiculously, insanely fast that is. I don’t know what this thing is yet; I mean, it’s a short story, but I sort of feel like it’s a proof-of-concept for something bigger. You’ll probably hear more about it later.
Maybe I’ll get called for a job interview this week. That would be nice.