May 11, 2005
My college roommate, Andy, who was either an electrical engineering major or telecommunications major at the time (and later went back to school to get a computer degree, which is what he seems to happily do to this day), once gave me a mini-lecture on the physics formula, energy = mass times velocity, or E=MV, although the E may be W for Work. I don't remember. It's been 20-some years since I stumbled through three terms of college physics and haven't had much reason to remember it. But the thing to remember here is that the mass (or weight, if it's an easier concept, though in physics mass and weight aren't totally interchangable), times velocity or speed, equals energy or force or work.

Mark--what the hell are you babbling about?

Okay. Take a bullet. Small mass. Fire it at 600 miles per hour. It hits somebody. They die. Lots of damage because a lot of energy was expressed. Take a freight train. It has much more mass than a bullet. It can hit you at two miles per hour and you'll still die. Take a feather. Not much mass. If it hits you at 2 miles per hour, so what? If it hits you at 600 miles per hour (assuming it wouldn't shred to pieces), it'll do some damage.

Yeah, okay. Writing life?

The contracts for The Devil's Pitchfork and Serpent's Kiss are on the way to my agent. And that, for some reason, feels like a lot of energy is being gathered. Something big, something moving fast. (Imagine getting hit by a freight train moving at 600 miles per hour). Signing those contracts, in a way, releases some of the energy. Writing and negotiations were pushing them to the top of a summit, perhaps, but the contracts getting signed puts the whole machinery into motion--energy. It'll be a while before we see the result, and it's important that a few months prior to publication I, my publisher/editor and publicist do what we can to grease the way, etc., but it feels to me like energy being released.

Otherwise a peculiar day. Worked on editing a galley of the journal. Queried three previous clients--one assignment, one decline, haven't heard from the third yet. Kids had a half day, so we ran out for lunch and to Borders to pick up a birthday gift for Leanne and the kids and I all picked up books (naturally). Then back home, worked on the re-write of Bad Intentions, applied for another writing gig, handled some e-mail, took care of a reference for an article I wrote for ADVANCE for Medical Laboratory Professionals, and I'm going to call it quits for a bit, then spend some more time editing the galley.

Life chez Terry.

Best,
Mark Terry