Okay, so things are calming down a little. Thanks to Stacy G. and Deb for your reassuring comments the other day. I'm liking the new room at home and I'm working on getting used to it. What's odd is that I'm finding how much not working threw off my routine. Not that I miss working. Oh no. About five minutes in this place and you begin to wonder if you've taken a wrong turn and ended up at an asylum for the criminally insane where the dress code just happens to be dockers and golf shirts instead of straitjackets and hospital gowns that open in the back (in case you're wondering, I am writing this at work, after hours, so it's not my house that's the asylum, but work.) But it provides a strangely comforting rhythym to life. I know that I'd get used to a new rhythym, one without my day job, pretty easily (oh, yeah, baby, someday!)
This is also a weird stage for me because I'm starting off on a new project, and I'm doing promotion stuff for the first one. Kind of like standing with one foot in the water and one foot on shore. (Not my most original simile, I'll grant you, but I'm tired. It's the end of the day). I do have the official ARC, which means be on the lookout for contests and giveaways coming soon. You too could win your very own copy of The Silver Spoon, autographed and everything, before it's available to the general public. Stay tuned for details...
It's also kind of weird because I'm looking at the ARC The Silver Spoon and part of me is freaking out, thinking, what if I can't write something that is liked this well next time? And the other part of me is thinking, okay, I like this book, I'm proud of it, but I think I can do some things better. I've learned some stuff since then. And really, I know what it comes down to is just telling the story, telling the truth. Getting the words on the page and it is what it is. That's all I can do, that's all anyone can do. In the meantime, I just need to keep working.
All right. It's time for me to battle the traffic home. What's strange is that I'm no longer traveling the roads that I've traveled for about seven years. I used to live in the area where I now work (I moved a few months before I changed jobs, dumb huh?) and even before that I used to drive up here to see my husband before we were married. Now, I don't even see those roads anymore. Hmmm... Can you tell I am terrified of and fascinated with change? That's my new theory. Probably one that every psychiatrist from here to L.A. touts. What scares us also fascinates us. I realized a few weeks ago that that's actually kind of a major theme in The Silver Spoon. Zara, the main character, is afraid of the aliens just as much as she is intrigued by them.
What both scares and fascinates you? For me, it's dead birds. Gross, right? But they totally freak me out. Like I can't breathe, can't be anywhere near one. And yet, some part of me always wants to look. To marvel at the grossness of it and the chills spreading across my skin. Actually, I'm pretty much afraid of all birds. It's a genuine phobia, passed down from my mom. Nothing has ever happened to me to make me afraid of them, but I can't stand them nonetheless. Can't even walk down that aisle in the pet store...
I've rambled long enough...talk to you tomorrow!
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Oh, I totally get the keys in the sewer grate thing. I once dropped my favorite lipstick down a sewer grate on my way to the bookstore at Valpo. So, it can happen! My fear is more that the grate will suddenly give way -- having been left not quite set in place by a workman too eager for lunch -- and I'll fall through. But you're right. I end up walking on it anyway, just to see what will happen and feel that little thrill of fear run through me. I honestly think that's why people go on roller coasters. We're afraid of death, but we want to get as close to it as we possibly can in a safe manner. What a bunch of weirdos we can be -- humanity, I mean! : )
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