Whew. My blood test results came back normal. Apparently, my white cell count being down before was a fluke. What a relief.
My neck's also better. fosteronfilm gave me neck rubbins and I swallowed many Aleves and a Tramadol, along with some gin (not a combination I normally either recommend or engage in, but desperate times . . . ). One drug or other, or all of them together in a synergistic whammy, succeeded in helping matters. It made it so I could tilt my head slightly and nod it before it hurt. And I've still got a modicum of mobility back. It's a long way from a-ok, but any improvement is a relief. I noticed something interesting in my quest for pain relief. I got zero happy effects from the alcohol. Normally I'm an embarrassingly easy drunk. A single shot of gin, glass of wine, or bottle of wine cooler or other alchopop and I'm well on my way to unintelligible slurred speech and diminished dexterity. This time I felt the gin hit my lungs like it always does, but I didn't get any of the cognitive effects. I think they all went to suppress my neck pain. Interesting.
While waiting for the pills and gin to kick in, we watched The Stepford Wives, the new one with Nicole Kidman. Surprising myself, I enjoyed it. They did a nice little twist with the ending that was different from the original, giving it a nice spin, and went a long way to vindicating the existence of a re-make. Many of their jokes elicited a chuckle from me. It was fun.
More poll answers:
tripper Q: "Do you think of yourself as cool?"
A: I dunno. It's not the first adjective that pops into my head when I'm being self-analytical. Sometimes, I suppose I do. Mostly I think I'm spastic or geeky, silly and sincere, periodically playful and lascivious. fosteronfilm often thinks I'm adorable and exasperating, and I see myself through his eyes more than I see myself through my own, if that makes any sense.
elmwood Q: "What was the first SF book that made you a fan?"
A: Urf. Straining to remember through the foggy miasma of time. Criminy. My first science fiction love was probably A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. I had to read it for school in, I think, fourth grade, and I loved it. But I also enjoyed The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster at a young age that might have preceded it. And I was a huge fan of fantasy before then--Charlotte's Web, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Prydain Chronicles, The Wind in the Willows--plus I had an avid passion for world mythology and fairy tales. Science fiction fandom was inevitable based upon my love for all things fantastical.
New Words: 850 new, 300+ culled in editing.
Wrote the climax, although I skipped a transition scene to get there. Need to go back and fill in that part and get down the denouement, but I'm tantalizingly close to "the end." Hurray! Looking over it, I find myself wondering if it would be a good fit for a YA market when it's done.
If I finish it today, I can foist it upon fosteronfilm and maybe have it in the Critter's queue by next week.
Club 100 For Writers
Our reading patterns as kids sound horribly similar. I also had two very much older brothers (8 and 12 years older) who were science fiction fans, and I picked up my first adult science fiction through them when I was about nine and one gave me John Wyndham's The Chrysalids to read. I was blown away by it and also quite scared. Still one of my favourite SF books of all time.
That would be cool, too! Maybe someday after The Storyteller's Wife has gone through all the print markets, you can submit it to The Sword Review. :) (Can you reprint reprints? ;) But all your work I've read has been awesome, so whatever you submit, if it's accepted, I'll send all my friends there.