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July 30, 2011 Progress Notes:
"On Roadstead Farm"
Words today: 500 on Monday, 650 today.
Words total: 6300.
Reason for stopping: The undergrads at the next table have turned to Middle Eastern politics, and the Tourette's-ish woman at the corner table is singing at top voice because nobody's paying attention to her, and productivity at the coffeeshop is officially over.
Darling du Jour: "That's not what I mean," Nat said, lean and sunburnt but still the same Nasturtium Blakely who'd played by the river with Tyler and me, forever frustrated that we were catching her imaginary lake trout wrong.
Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: wavered.
Mean Things: Being condescended to a bit by your bossy friend. Or, shoe on the other foot, the remarkable lack of self-preservation your friend whom you love is exhibiting. The way everyone keeps kicking you out of your own kitchen, dammit.
Research Roundup: Some southeastern US geography, which I am bad at; shellfish indigenous to the North Carolina coast; image reference for the insides of oyster shells; common German-American surnames; spices indigenous to the US; current crops of North Carolina; rice cultivation in the US; sheep-shearing seasons; sheep varieties; sheep reproduction cycles; things sheep eat.
Books in progress: Darren O'Donnell, Your Secrets Sleep With Me; Misha Glouberman and Sheila Heti, The Chairs are Where the People Go.
The glamour: Mild and lazy. Half the city is out of town for the long weekend, another quarter are at Caribana, and thus I can get a whole table! for hours and hours! in the coffeeshop, even on a Saturday afternoon.
Well, hello. I missed you too, LJ.
Lots of stuff on the Above front this week: Filled out a giant publicity questionnaire, did my second-pass proofreader's queries (three more clarifying questions to answer tonight, and that's finished entirely), had a playdate with Scholastic Canada to talk about Canadian marketing efforts and just see the office and such, and sold the second set of international rights for the book.
(Yes, the second. The first was just before Readercon, and I think I got too busy and never told you.)
So: Above will be readable in German, from Baumhaus, and now in Portuguese -- although in Brazil only -- from Novo Conceito, both publishers with pretty impressively diverse lists. Both of these editions drop in the next year and a half to two years. I will tell you when.
The other big thing that went on this week is that I pulled a ridiculous all-nighter to watch Toronto City Council's Executive Committee meeting in person on Thursday night/Friday morning, and while that sounds like a boring political nerd thing to do and a bad reason to spend an entire workday exhausted, it was in fact kind of ridiculously glorious. It also will probably merit its own post, later today or tomorrow.
And now I am almost out of battery, and beginning to grow irritable at the noisy people, and it's time to pack this thing up.
"On Roadstead Farm"
Words today: 500 on Monday, 650 today.
Words total: 6300.
Reason for stopping: The undergrads at the next table have turned to Middle Eastern politics, and the Tourette's-ish woman at the corner table is singing at top voice because nobody's paying attention to her, and productivity at the coffeeshop is officially over.
Darling du Jour: "That's not what I mean," Nat said, lean and sunburnt but still the same Nasturtium Blakely who'd played by the river with Tyler and me, forever frustrated that we were catching her imaginary lake trout wrong.
Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: wavered.
Mean Things: Being condescended to a bit by your bossy friend. Or, shoe on the other foot, the remarkable lack of self-preservation your friend whom you love is exhibiting. The way everyone keeps kicking you out of your own kitchen, dammit.
Research Roundup: Some southeastern US geography, which I am bad at; shellfish indigenous to the North Carolina coast; image reference for the insides of oyster shells; common German-American surnames; spices indigenous to the US; current crops of North Carolina; rice cultivation in the US; sheep-shearing seasons; sheep varieties; sheep reproduction cycles; things sheep eat.
Books in progress: Darren O'Donnell, Your Secrets Sleep With Me; Misha Glouberman and Sheila Heti, The Chairs are Where the People Go.
The glamour: Mild and lazy. Half the city is out of town for the long weekend, another quarter are at Caribana, and thus I can get a whole table! for hours and hours! in the coffeeshop, even on a Saturday afternoon.
Well, hello. I missed you too, LJ.
Lots of stuff on the Above front this week: Filled out a giant publicity questionnaire, did my second-pass proofreader's queries (three more clarifying questions to answer tonight, and that's finished entirely), had a playdate with Scholastic Canada to talk about Canadian marketing efforts and just see the office and such, and sold the second set of international rights for the book.
(Yes, the second. The first was just before Readercon, and I think I got too busy and never told you.)
So: Above will be readable in German, from Baumhaus, and now in Portuguese -- although in Brazil only -- from Novo Conceito, both publishers with pretty impressively diverse lists. Both of these editions drop in the next year and a half to two years. I will tell you when.
The other big thing that went on this week is that I pulled a ridiculous all-nighter to watch Toronto City Council's Executive Committee meeting in person on Thursday night/Friday morning, and while that sounds like a boring political nerd thing to do and a bad reason to spend an entire workday exhausted, it was in fact kind of ridiculously glorious. It also will probably merit its own post, later today or tomorrow.
And now I am almost out of battery, and beginning to grow irritable at the noisy people, and it's time to pack this thing up.
