Eugie Foster (eugie) wrote,
Eugie Foster

  • Mood:

Hobkin, skirts, writing

Hobkin has problems understanding skirts. I wore a long skirt to work today, and all morning as I was swishing through the kitchen, making his breakfast and packing my lunch, he kept standing up on his hind legs trying to lean his front paws on the hem of it. But, of course, it just yielded under his weight, and he'd flop forward at my feet, often with a perplexed expression on his fuzzy face. Silly thing.

He fell asleep with me last night on the couch. Very deeply asleep. A couple times he rolled over so suddenly I had to lunge to catch him or he would've rolled right off the couch. And he started to snore once with his nose right next to my ear. He has a good life.

I need to take more pictures of him. But our digicam is so damn clunky. It's such a pain to get out. I need something sleek and svelte like the adorable camera cmpriest has. Covet covet covet.

I keep forgetting what day it is this week. Undoubtedly a common mind glitch on Monday-holiday weeks. The headache I've been sporting since lunch hasn't helped either.

Writing Stuff:

Wrote a review for the new Sci-Fiction story "Gliders Though They Be" by Carol Emshwiller for Tangent and sent it off to my editor. This is the second Emshwiller story I've reviewed, the first one being "On Display Among the Lesser," also in Sci-Fiction. Two stories from the same author in under two months. Ellen Datlow obviously likes her stuff.

Heard from the editor of Blood Lust, a UK gay erotica vampire anthology that I submitted a reprint to. My original submission was almost a year ago. I'd totally forgotten I'd sent it to them. They said they're still working on final selections. So I guess I'm still in the running.

Desperately engaging in Cricket Magazine Group rejectomancy. I've got two submissions with them cresting or over the all-important 100-day mark. The one at Cricket is going on 111 days, and the one at Cicada is just hitting 100. With only one exception, everything I've sent to either of those markets that's made it that long I ended up selling to them. I really could use another juicy sale to pick me up out of my funk. Well, actually I don't know if it'll get me out of it, but I'd be ecstatic for a bit, sure enough.

And finally, ring the bells and sound the trumpets! I cranked out 1200 words on a new fantasy piece. At last, I'm making writing progress once again. About slogging time.
Tags: hobkin

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