September 11th
It's hard to believe it happened two years ago already because that morning is so clear in my mind. I wish the determination I had back then to live every moment because it was all so fleeting and fragile had stuck, but unfortunately middle-aged human nature took over again and I started worrying about bullshit almost immediately. Anyway, everyone has their own memories of that morning two years ago so I'm going to move on.


Neil Gaiman--he's cute, smart, funny, seemingly down to earth, and hasn't yet said anything to crush this wonderful image for me. Although people think they don't like horror or fantasy, I wish everyone would try at least one of his books, even if it's one of the kids's books, and see if he changes your mind. Good Omens that he wrote with Terry Pratchett is one of the funniest things I've ever read, and American Gods was definitely not a let-down. Neverwhere is very cool. His site is www.neilgaiman.com and it's fun to look around even if you're not a fan. I'm going to copy what he said about the Bookcrossing thing in response to that other woman's nastier comments. I really, really love him.

***
"It's like the woman who mounted the campaign against second-hand bookstores some eyars ago, claiming they were depriving authors of income. (I googled to find out who she was, but couldn't find it, although I remember reading articles in USA Today and People and several other places at the time.) The Enemy (as it were) is not Bookcrossing.com, or second-hand bookshops. The enemy is the fact that most people don't buy books. Most people don't read for pleasure. It's like the teachers who proudly stop kids reading R.L. Stine or Enid Blyton or comics or whatever, proud that they've stopped them reading the Wrong Things, without noticing that they've also stopped them reading for pleasure... People lend each other books. That's a good thing. They recommend books to each other. That's how most people find authors they like, after all. Looking over at bookcrossing I can see at least 500 of my books floating around out there, some of them being posted all over the world, some of them being set free in interesting places. At some point, someone bought each and every one of those books. From here on out, the books are wandering around letting people know whether or not they like what I write..."

Oh God am I tired
I really did try to post an entry last night but Angefire would not cooperate. So this one will be quick as my soul-sucking job has left me with barely any will to live tonight. I only want to bring up one thing--Bookcrossing. I'm going to put up a page about it soon ('soon' being a relative term) but everyone should go to the site and have a look. It's a very cool idea where you distribute your old books either by giving them to someone you know or just leaving them in the 'wild', after first registering them at the site and putting a note in with the book's number. Presumably then the next person to read it will go on the site and post and then pass it on again, etc etc. Well, if you're interested go to the site and see for yourself-- www.bookcrossing.com Neil Gaiman, who I am developing a very strong crush on these days, is behind it wholeheartedly-- unlike other more narrow minded (and flaky) writers who shall remain nameless. Unless you want to e-mail me and I'll tell you who it is. This can only be a good thing for book sales and reading in general as it's bound to get people to try writers they normally wouldn't buy and if they like what they read then they will go out and buy more. We need to get people READING, no matter what it takes! Go have a look. More on Neil Gaiman later.

a little snazzier

All right, I gave in and used one of the "blog" shells from Angelfire to make it look a bit more hip. I didn't even know a word like blog existed, because I am hopelessly geeky. Anyway, here's the last entry again in the new cool format.


Well, not to be outdone by all the other established and aspiring writers who feel the need to let anyone and everyone who cares in on the constant drama and excitement of being a writer, I've decided to keep a daily journal. Although I think the term 'daily' is a bit on the optimistic side, I'll do my best. I'm sure I'll be mostly talking to myself here, but at least I'll have the discipline of having to write at least something every day, even if it's complete BS. So here we go...



Sunday September 7-

I spent about three hours writing a scene in my new book that takes roughly 55 seconds to read. This feels very much like trying to drain Lake Michigan with a Waterford pitcher. Not only that, but I'm terrified to read it back in case it's a complete pile of steaming crap. Who am I kidding? I almost always think everything is crap the first time I read it back. And the really depressing thing is, sometimes I'm right. Okay, a lot of times I'm right. Because when you get in the 'zone', when you've finally managed to tune out the goddam barking dog next door, the Sox game blasting from the other room, the layer of dust covering everything on the desk, it's sort of like being on your fourth Cosmopolitan of the night--everything looks good. In the same way that the guy with the missing front tooth and skull earring looks 'edgy' instead of scary as hell, you think that naming someone Clark Sneedwell is sort of cutely Dickensian rather than just goofy. Then you sober up and realize that your character would never say the things you've got coming out of her mouth or do some idiot thing you have her doing, and it's back to the drawing board, or to continue the metaphor, it's back to the bar for another round. So, after managing to avoid writing for most of the weekend, tomorrow it's back to my soul-sucking job where I can spend the day feeling pained and angry because I can't be writing. Maybe we really are all crazy.