Bringing Back the Light: 346

Of course, as soon as I posted yesterday’s entry, I remembered what I wanted to say…

Kris & Dean have an upcoming workshop that I’d dearly love to take. It’s essentially how to write for the Marty Greenberg anthos, with Denise Little (one of his co-editors) teaching. Some of the stories submitted (you have two weeks to write them to bring to the weekend-long workshop) could be bought (which would pay for the workshop, I’m almost certain).

But, of course, life being so uncertain right now, I can’t send in a deposit. Augh! Even better (or worse, depending on how you look at it), is that there’s a workshop the weekend before (on writing for hire, such as playing in TV universes and getting paid), and if you’re willing to help out with housework during the intervening week, you can stay that week. Oh, for a week in the workshop house, with two great workshops on either end… I’m being really positive, because Ken actually does have some job leads—which would even keep us in the area, a big plus in our book. (First choice is to not move at all. Second choice would be to move back to Darach. Third choice would be somewhere in between.)

So, think happy job thoughts in our direction, please. Tomorrow will be résumé writing day for him (I’m off to have a spa day with darling Meg—a birthday present for me as well as a thank you for tearing apart her study one day to find a large cheque she’d lost. [bg]).

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Productive day today. Finished the journal I was editing and sent it out. Finished all the couching on my banner and drew most of the goutty, so I’m right on schedule with that. Now, although it’s late, I’m going to do a little writing. Can’t stay up too late, as I have to get up reasonably early to get to Meg’s. I’m feeling remarkably unstressed, which is quite pleasant, I must say.

My gods, I just looked at my Excel file for my wordcount. Have I really not written _anything_ so far this month?! That’s it, now I’m stressed!

I probably wrote about 500 words tonight, given that I edited down some of the text Teresa sent. But I wrote, and that felt good.

Off to bed now, so I’m not a harpy in the morning…