Thursday,
October 18, 2001

I'd Rather Be Writing

What with my rejection from OUTSIDE for "Maternal Instincts," I'm trying to make a concerted effort to nail my ass to the chair long enough to get the revisions done and the story back out the door, along with "Dragons at the Gate." However, all of these good intentions are being derailed by the most astounding bout of laziness I think I've ever experienced -- I have no idea why, but I simply can't put the words on the page right now.

Maybe it's the weather -- we're going through the last gasp of summer at the moment, and it is spectacularly beautiful out there. After three years in a country where it's seriously cold and dark by this time of the year, I'd much rather be out in the sunshine soaking up some Vitamin C and enjoying myself.

Yeah, yeah, I know -- I have a balcony, I have an extension cord, why don't I just go out there when I get home and do some writing while sitting in what's left of the sunlight after I get home? I dunno, Marty -- ennui? Boredom? A sincere, severe case of distraction? Probably a combination of all three, come to think of it.

This doesn't bode well for my writing career. But I am having a good time, so at least there are compensations.

Excuse me while I pull my nails out of the upholstery

Yet another morning of riding in with the Man from McKinney, and by GOD I'm wide awake by the time I get into work, with all that adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Don't get me wrong -- Steve is an excellent driver, one of the best I've ever ridden with, and I was raised by Ena "Now this is how you control a 360° spin through a 5-way intersection--" Miller, so I know from good driving. But Dallas traffic is psychotic to begin with, and then Speed Racer there in the driver's seat starts darting in and out of holes that by rights shouldn't be big enough to fit a Passat station wagon and doing things that would give your average traffic cop the vapours. There have been times when I literally just closed my eyes and waited for 1) something to hit us or 2) us to hit a clear stretch on the highway, because one of them was bound to happen.

Riding in with him is an exercise in fatalism, if nothing else. As long as it avoids becoming a lesson in fatality -- and he promises it will -- I'll just have to deal with the occasional moment of blind terror.