Five idiosyncratic things about me:
1. I like salty snacks better than chocolate. If given the choice of Cheetos and Doritos versus fudge and candy bars, I'll choose the salty grease nearly every time. I like chocolate well enough, but given my druthers, I'd rather have chips.
2. The scar on my right cheek is from when I was in daycare and I got pushed on the playground. I fell on the corner of a sandbox and cut my face. It required stitches and I still remember how confused and frightened I was in the emergency room. I've had the scar most of my life so I don't normally think of it, but when I'm being photographed I reflexively present my left side or stand face-on to the camera.
3. I can't stand leaving a chore half-done. Once I start something, I work obsessively to finish it. Contrarily, I can procrastinate until the skunks come home, but once I finally do buckle down and begin something, I need to see it through. I get cranky and unreasonable if someone or something interrupts me mid-task--which has resulted in, on several occasions, fosteronfilm being unfairly snipped at. Alas, this compulsion hasn't carried over to my writing.
4. Socially, I'm a mess of contradictions. It's like there's an introvert and an extrovert perpetually at war in my psyche. I like being the center of attention, while at the same time I'm terribly shy. I don't like crowds, but I love going to big events like Dragon*Con. And although I'm terrified of speaking in public, when I'm actually doing it, I find that I enjoy it.
5. I prefer rainy days and clouds over sunshine and blue skies. Bright days feel oppressive and garish, while stormy days soothe me and give me peace. But I hate snow with the hatey-hate of a thousand burning stars.
I'm not going to tag anyone, which is the normal way this meme is run, so just do it if it strikes your fancy, I sez.
Received payment from Nowa Fantastyka for "All in My Mind" the Polish reprint they published in their July 2005 issue. They hacked off 20% for "taxes." Fooie. And I'll have to pay U.S. taxes on it again come tax time. This should come as no surprise to anyone, but I feel the need to rail at the universe. It is impossible to make a decent living as a short fiction writer! I will have made the most from my fiction sales, ever, this year, and the amount is astonishingly piddly--and this includes payment from quite a few "pro"-paying sales. How disheartening.
Now would be a good time to get a call from my agent telling me he sold my novel . . .
My Korean folktale is up at Critters. So far, getting some very positive feedback, including a not-for-credit one-liner that said simply: "You're an excellent writer and I enjoyed the story." Now that's a good way to wake up in the morning.
Although, err, I panicked and sent off a note to the Critters Help Support folks when I saw I'd received seven crits and none of them had appeared in my inbasket. I thought maybe their new server had hiccuped or I'd submitted with the wrong email address--something I've never done before, but hey, always a first time. 'Course, half an hour later, the crits were delivered safe and sound, and I immediately sent off a contrite "sorry, please disregard my previous hysterical email" note to the good tech folks. Oops.
Club 100 For Writers
Editing passes mostly.