Now, what to pack? Not to mention, what to pack _in_? I need a new suitcase.
So, I finally, after a lot of rounds back and forth, made the last changes to the manuscript now known as Särskild and sent it to my editor. The last proof reading will be done out of house and then it's off to the printer's with it!
I'm proud, tired, nervous and a little disbelieving that it's done. Feels good anyhow.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
Aside from that I'm in a good place. I got a stipend (that's the name for it, right? Grant is something you get at a school, right?) from the Swedish Authors' Fund, and that gave me the possibility to as for some time off from work. I have the best work place in the world and I work with the best people as well, they have all supported this writing habit of mine and cover for me. It helps that I work in a genre book store where several of the bosses wanted to write as well.
Anyway, I'll be over here, under my rock of revisions, if you'll need me.
I haven't had the guts to watch it yet. I really had to brace myself when I watched the 10-minute long teaser they had up before. I will. Just not yet.
These birds are of the chatty type. Two tiny birds, one blue and one green, with high-pitched song and a constant talking twitter, pretty to look at but oh, so annoying at five in the morning. According to my friend they usually hop into their cage in the evening, and then my friend put a blanket over them and they are silent until the blanket is removed. But since they've been on their own for a few days before we came to live here over the weekend they've decided that they're now wild animals and cages are not for them. They take turns going into the cage for food and water while the other one sits guard outside, watching me and Sweetest for any movement. If we come close they scream at us and fly up to their branches, mounted on a wall next to the cage. At no time during the weekend have they both been in the cage.
The consequence seem to be happy birds that sing and talk all the time, non-stop, from half past five in the morning until the sun sets and it gets dark around eight or nine in the evening, which would be nice if it didn't also mean that I was sleep-deprived and a bit jittery during my re-write. They just never shut up. It's lucky for them that they are so cute, and that they are somebody else's birds.
In other news, the second book is coming along, not as fast, not as easy and not as perfect as I would've wanted, but still.
I can generate sofas.
This would be cool if I could just get them to appear, Douglas Adams style, in the middle of a stairwell or out of the sky. Maybe then I would be a, slightly quirky, evil something or other. But no, it's just one or two more than any sane person needs at a time. All the time.
Not once in my entire adult life have I owned less than two sofas. Often more. And they show up, beg for attention, some TLC and maybe a place in my basement or on the attic. I almost always say yes, since I also have a knack for passing them along, but I never say yes to a sofa knowing that I would hand it over. It's always with the intention to keep it, at least for a little while.
Fast forward to today.
I've bought a sofa. A new one. One that haven't seen other people (or their backsides) before. That have never happened before. I usually just end up with one, I don't choose it, order it and pay (insane amounts) for it. A nominal sum of course, never before more than, say 100 USD. Never. Until now. I feel strange.
The sofa will show up, wrapped in plastic tomorrow, and the one that used to occupy the living room is now safely tucked away in the attic. I've even found new owners for the old one (as I said - passing them along is part of the power), but it will stay in the attic for another month. And then I'll be down to one sofa. A new one.
It feels strange, and a bit like I've cheated on my superpower, but I'm looking forward to the new addition to my long list of sofa co-habitants. It's red, velvet and big. It comes with matching armchair. It could be the cryptonite to my power, but I've had a long run and done some good with it. Time to pass it on and settle down, I think. Maybe settle down in a matching armchair.
I've had as much to do, if not more, since then. I read my f-list once in a while, but not with any predictability. I'm beginning to see a pattern though.
When I have periods of writing and not working in the bookstore I wander the 'net more and distract myself with various sites, this one included. I post on my Swedish blog more often and generally keep a more active presence.
When I'm working in the bookstore I just check my most immediate sites and then get home to the writing. Well, I have a period of writing right now and therefor I've got the time to update here as well.
I'm in the middle of trying to bring about a rough draft of the second book for my publisher. My deadline is the last of February. And boy do I wish this month had as many days as any other month right now.
I'm having problems with my chronology. Some things must happen before others, but there's already a scene in that place that I need for another storyline and if I move it I'll have to start over somewhere else with that storyline... and so on... It's annoying. And exciting. I wake up in the middle of the night with 'that's not how it's supposed to go'-thoughts, and then spend an hour figuring out how it should go.
I'm tired and stressed and the feeling of producing with a set expectation of what the result should be like, is distracting and a bit scary. I'll get over it, I'm sure, but right now it's on my mind a lot.
I've tried and tried to write this in as precise terms as possible so as to be of any use, but I think the stories talk for themselves. Brenda Namigadde are about to be sent back to Uganda from the UK if the Home Secretary and the Home Office don't get their act together. Brenda is lesbian and as such vilified, that's why she fled. Just today a famous gay activist was murdered for his sexual choices, a murder spurred on by a major national newspaper. I've found a petition for the Home Office begging that they reconsider for Brendas safety and common decency.
Sign the petition. One voice might not be much, but it's something.
( And if you want the articles and sources, here they are: Collapse )