What'd I Tell You!

Well. I printed the blasted thing. It took over thirty minutes! Blessed little apples.

Gave it to She Who Shall Remain Nameless (although I kind of just gave her a name so she's really not nameless now, is she?) because I thought she wanted to read it. She just blinked at me and informed me I was mistaken. *grins* She wants me to publish it. (What was I thinking? *throws hands in air* Yeesh! Some people are never happy.)

Eventually, SWSRN took it (over my protests) and started to read it. *sighs and puts chin in hand* She didn't even get past page two before she started nodding off.

Yep, you read that right (write?); my THING put SWSRN to sleep. She woke up, shifted, and started again, but the same thing happened.

Le sigh. (And no, we won't mention - in all fairness to her - that she's an insomniac, and she got no sleep the night before because it's too freaking funny this way!)

I left her to her beauty rest, but when I came back later, she just looked at me and laughed. I didn't consider that a good sign, and I (wo)manfully refrained from asking what she was laughing at. She ducked her head, went back to reading, but I hadn't even sat down on the couch before she started laughing again. And it wasn't "wow, this is some damned funny stuff" laughing. No, no. It was "I can't believe you wrote this" laughing. *tries not to laugh myself* (I didn't ask but she told me anyway.)

*grins* So there you have it: I'm not cut out for this. Just don't tell Camilla, ok? She might flap her wings and feather me!

Excuses

At least they're good ones! And really it's just one.

The reason I haven't posted in the last week (I'm not sure what my story's going to be for the week before that) was that I was in the final stage of the second round of edits.

A person who shall remain nameless (but who gave me all my evil genes) threatened me with vague "or else"s should I not finish the darned thing this week. I mean, just because I wouldn't let her read it "until I finished editing" is no reason to get nasty. *grins crookedly*

So, once I go through one last time (*snorts*) to add in a new idea that I had about making Camilla a psycho ... *coughs* I mean psychic chicken .... (*pokes Adeline for typing without permission) I mean psychic ROOMMATE ... then I will be taking the laptop upstairs, hooking it up to the printer, and pressing the dreaded ctrl+p buttons.

ACK! Surely this can't be a good idea.

A Visitation (from Romeo):

*mutters and glares over his shoulder* Daphne said I should add this update from the Montague household so people would understand the rarity of posts this month.

Adeline has gone on a rampage. Currently, there are no pillows in our house because they've all been slit open and their insides strewn about as Adeline examines and catalogues the "fascinating innards of the pillow industry." *pauses and shakes his head* That inspired her to find out how every electronic in our house works. So the toaster's in pieces in the kitchen, and the last time I tried to put it together I wound up with about five extra pieces. I have no idea where she hid the remains of the DVD player. Only the big screen TV survived, but I think that's because she feared for the rest of her life if she touched it. She would be right about that.

Not even my razor works anymore. *thoughtfully scratches the scruff covering his chin then scowls* She slit her thumb trying to get the blades off, but of course the darling little twit didn't mention it so we didn't get her to the ER in a reasonable time for stitches. She's got some butterfly bandaids which threw her into a long monologue I didn't understand ... something about a stealth butterfly. Does anyone know what that is?

(Daphne's note: "She's a goddamn stealth butterfly!" ... Anyone who knows what book that is from will earn my undying admiration and, probably, devotion.)

Anyway, last I saw her she was curled up on my bed with a seam ripper tearing apart the old clothes she decided I didn't need. Since she promised to stay away from my MU shirt, I'm ok with that. At least I know exactly where she is and what she's doing.

*sighs* I don't really expect it to stay that way. Anyone want to schedule an extended visit with her? *hopeful, boyish smile*

Peace

Apparently writing a long story is a good way to get all your voices to sit down, shut up, and just stare at you.

For the last two - ok, three - months, I haven't heard so much as a peep. Occasionally if I go seeking them, I can find them, but none of them offer up much on their own. It's frustrating state of affairs.

I keep trying to start the next part of the series - the book about Camilla and Scot - but I'm no longer convinced that it's enough to really warrant its own actual novel. I suppose I should stop whining and just write it ... see what happens.

Of course, if I were sane, normal, and actually interested (as opposed to scared to death) to get a book published, I would finish edits on the first book ... *pauses and considers that idea* No no ... That would be too sane for me. I think I'll stick to my first thought and make yet another start on the second book.