The Demonweasel Speaks

Oh, what fun…

The engagement, yes, that is fun. Big, big, fun, and yes, we’re already kinda sorta talking about details, despite the fact that we don’t want to get into it right away, lest be fast with the awful specter of paying for it. Ew.

The past few weeks have been crazy at work, as I decided to get nuts and completly redo the floorplan of the store. Even though I had planned it since January, the actual moving of shelves took about a week, as we ended up having to hunt for where bookshelves were screwed into each other (most were screwed in at three or four different places, none of which immediately obvious), move piles of books, make piles of books, figure out where the empty bookshelves were going to go…oh joy. We were closed for two days, working on average 12 hour days, and then having to open while still in a state of flux, thusly embarassing myself as I had put out a countdown to “The New Dark Star” on the window and, surprise, I had to deliver. What I ended up delivering was a mess, but there was the rare person that saw the method to the madness and thought we were on the right track. Then, of course, there are the people that are morally offended that we even changed anything at all, because changing a floorplan once every 20 years is just outrageous and capricious.

Kenzie and I started taking a multivitamin (for our respective sexes) to try to be a little healthier…although the pint of ice cream I had after dinner I’m sure didn’t help. I’ve been working out less, but then again after hurling bookshelves around for almost a week added up in some way. I feel better, but I still feel like I could feel even better, so we’ll see what comes of that.

Have I been writing? Well, I’d say now that the second draft of the book is done and I’m now making some changes based on the Kenzie’s suggestions. Nothing particularly major, but some little tweaks that need to be ironed out, which of course requires work, which I just haven’t been putting in. I need to, I know I need to, but damn…

“[M]ost people who say they want to be writers don’t actually want to write. They want to have written, they want to be famous, they want money, they want the Pointy Hat of Success that has I Sold Something embroidered in gold thread across the bill. They don’t have the time, patience or inclination to do the homework alluded to two paragraphs back. They want to whip something out, throw it down, and wait for applause (a behavior pattern that also got Pee-Wee Herman in trouble, if I recall correctly).” – J. Michael Straczynski, in his first Words, Words, Words column on writing up on Newsarama. God, did that hit me like a knife. What am I, some kind of poseur? Some kind of wannabe?

Who knows, maybe if I wasn’t I’d be published. And maybe that’s what I need to kick myself in the ass.