Fall Down, Go *BOOM* The Sequel

My knee never got better from my fall about a month ago. It's still badly swollen and I can't hardly put my weight on it. The urgent care doc suggested I go see Dr. Funderburk, so I emailed the Mother Unit for the money, which will be $250, not counting the prescriptions and injections. What a party that's gonna be. I'm waiting to call him in the next few minutes. He's right down the road so I won't be wasting too much gas. I expect the doc to look at my X-rays and go O_O, like they all do. If he wants to give me new knees, I'm all for it yo.

The Finishing

Just a few moments ago, I finished The Augury of Gideon. This was momentous for me because I was emotionally invested in how the story was to end and was at odds with my Inner Writer as to the completion of the story. My Inner Writer won.

Now, it's my job to return to The Blood Crown and edit it while I ponder The Augury of Gideon. After I'm finished editing The Blood Crown, I'm passing it on to gunslingaaahhh for the professional edit, then I'll do a final proof. The same will go for The Augury of Gideon. Wash, rinse, repeat. I'm hoping to have Crown ready to send to Sophie by September and Augury by October. Then, if she wants to do sixth-month releases, she'll have everything she needs.

Except art. I need to get with m0usegrrl on the art. I'm thinking for Crown, Cadmus with his head hung down, holding the crown by his side as rivulets of blood drop from it. For Augury I envision Gideon holding a book (moleskine) that has drawn on it the most beautiful uncut ruby you could imagine.

If I could have that, I would be such a happy camper, I might even do a badly choreographed jig.

Just begun

I've begun to proof The Blood Crown. This is so damned tedious. I feel like Barry after he's made a record. Okay, it's done, now someone else worry with while I go do something fun like hang from a tree and get my arm broken!

In all seriousness, I'm going to go crazy (er) by reading this manuscript. It's over 110,000 words long and I'm only 400 words in and have changed a couple of things. And I have to read "The Sainted Confessor" in this blood book too. It's bad enough that I read it along with gunslingaaahhh and luvthyjoker and it got me pegged as a fucking lunatic, but I also had to read it in order to incorporate it into the overall narrative. Now that I'm finished writing, I get to read the whole thing over again. Not bloody fair.

Speaking of beginnings, I have an appointment with a new orthopaedic surgeon tomorrow. It's a non-American las name that I now cannot remember, so I'll just call him Dr. M until Thursday when I'll learn it officially. I like having doctors from overseas. They seem to have their heads screwed on a little straighter than American doctors and they don't charge as much. Maybe the money the Mother Unit sent me can go for paying off more doctor's bills. Ah, my life ~ nothing like it!

Continuing on the theme of beginnings, I'm thinking about a new story. I'm not sure if it'll be a short story or a novel. I might write a bunch of short stories and just have an anthology. My patience wanes with the the novel. The only reason I stuck with The Vampire Relics like I did was because God Almighty was pushing me onward and upward. Okay, it was Cadmus threatening me. Whichever, it's done now, except for the booooooring edits. I thank god every day for gunslingaaahhh.

Blah... Just blah

I hate to admit it, but I've run out of anything of any worth to write in this journal. I don't know why. Maybe the anti-depressants haven't kicked in, or maybe they have and they've turned me into a zombie. Either way, I feel boring, worthless, and pretty ridiculous trying to keep a journal alive when I rarely have anything to say. Any ideas how I can spruce it up?

Summer's Cauldron

Have a blessed Alban Hefin everyone!

Planet Hooligan

The weather is beautiful here if you like stepping outside onto the surface of Venus. The trees are even drooping, except for the contorted filbert, which is in the shade of the house. There's a cold front supposed to come through in a couple of days, at which time all the plants and houses will start singing that "smile" song they sing in Toon Town in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. And people wonder why I'm crazy. I'm crazy because the heat of the giant ball of hell in the sky has burned away my faculties, that's why.

On top of the heat misery, I've got a gas bubble that keeps moving around in my abdomen making me feel I've been impregnated by the Soccer Aliens of Planet Hooligan. All I want to do is pass this gas and avoid going outside until November, is that so wrong?