Eugie Foster (eugie) wrote,
Eugie Foster
eugie

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Happy Lughnasadh!

Actually, Thursday was Lughnasadh, but we postponed our celebration of it until yesterday. I made beer bread and cookies, and we gorged in front of the TV and watched American Pie I and II. Sort of a strange way to celebrate the Autumnal Cross Quarter, but hey, we enjoyed it. And now we're raring to see American Wedding.

Got The Quiet Ward contract for "The Reign of the Wintergod" in the mail yesterday from Prime Books. It was just a single copy of the contract with no letter or note in it. I assume I'm supposed to sign it and send it back, but I'm more accustomed to seeing a brief letter from the person I'm supposed to address to the "attn of" on the return envelope, as well as receiving two copies of the contract, one of which I get to keep for my own records. No biggie. I'll just make a copy of it before I mail it. But it was a little, err, brief. I assume they were rushed since everyone's scrambling to get the book out in time for Horrorfind weekend.

Wow. In one week there will be a book in print with one of my stories in it. How cool is that?

Less cool is the whole "make a copy situation," primarily because my scanner won't talk to the computer anymore. I'll just use a third party copier for the contract, but this whole scanner broken thing is really stressing me out. I hate dealing with hardware. I am totally incapable of interacting in a calm and rationale manner with malfunctioning peripherals. They scare and intimidate me. I'm leaving it to Matthew to fix.

In other news, ten critiques so far on the "weird" story I've got up at Critters right now. The comments are mixed. Most people like it but think there are weird bits. Well, I knew it was odd going in, but I'm pleased that people in general are liking it. Readers have given me positive comments on the style and tone I used, which is cool as it was something of a Vonnegut-inspired experiment.

Matthew finally first-readered my "squicky" story and it did indeed totally squick him out. He refused to read it through a second time so gave me my critique verbally rather than in writing. Gleep. I'm much better with critiques in writing. But the funny thing is that despite his gross-out, he still thought it was a good, powerful story. He just doesn't want to ever read it again.

Yay, I think.

He also had some excellent comments (as usual) which I'm dwelling on before I toss up the first draft for the Critters to savage.
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