Relayer, 10 true summers round
OK, so I just submitted "Relayer" to Baen's Universe. I think. The last time that I submitted there, the magazine was still in pre-production stages & the only thing on the web page was "submission guidelines". Today when I got there there was an elaborate page up, with clickable links for stories & departments, but I couldn't find the submission guidelines anywhere, so I went ahead, shrunk "Relayer" down to Courier New 12 point, added the header, & emailed it to them with "submission" in the subject line. Of course, my chances of being published there are slim, but they pay 20 cents a word, so it goes to them first, before Analog, the intended market.
Yesterday morning I fixed Trish her traditional breakfast of pancakes, then once she left for work started reading C.J. Cherryh's book. After awhile I headed out to the barbershop in order to have my hair cut, but it was "closed this Saturday", so I stopped in at El Taco Loco & had a crazy taco. & fries. I started to watch Heavy Metal, then decided to call Trish's mom, who was very supportive of my recent problems with depression (which seem to be going away now that I'm writing again; I hope never to wright again in my life & Timothy Leary's dread). I added some red & orange to the painting I'm working on, which has such pretty purple mountains that I don't want to mess it up with too much additional paint.
Trish called around 1:30. It surprised me, as usually she's not off until at least 2:00. Apparently the Republicans were holding a free b-b-q, so Pizza Hut wasn't getting any business.
Then the complaints about her medicine started. Last week, when she ran out of Klonopin, Locoweed no longer being her doctor, we faxed down to Great Falls, & Trish wound up without her morning Klonopin, just the dose at bedtime. Her anxiety level has increased, but I'm not certain if this is because she's on less meds or if it's because she's aware that she's on less meds.
She brought home 2 big bowls of veggies from the salad bar, nummy treats.
So she finally took her shower, after a nap, then had to nap some more, in order to dry her feet to put a bandage on her foot. She wanted "something easy" for supper, so we wound up with macaroni & cheese. Then I asked her to wash the fry pan & ceramic bowl for breakfast the following day, & she turned into Cranky Bear: I hadn't run a load of dishes 'cause there wasn't much in the dishwasher so she became mad that there was "a whole sink full of dishes". I got scared. I always get scared when she's angry 'cause it reminds me of our break up. She apologized later on -- & attributed it to the Klonopin.
After supper we had quiet time, & we discussed Platinum Studios, as well as what I intend to do now that I've finished "Relayer". My initial inclination was to begin the sequel to Skyfight, but then I decided to maybe do a rewrite of "Astronomy Domine", because of the flaws noted in Fantasy Magazine's rejection slip, namely that it "had moments, but didn't win us over completely". It's going to Paradox next, a publisher of historical fiction who take alternate-history science fiction.
We finally turned the TV on, so Trish could see the news. When we were done with that Trish watched Groundhog Day while I took a bath. She wanted to go to bed early so that we'd have time to make out, but my meds made me impotent -- haldol, be the death of me! Also, I'm not using the Kim fantasy anymore, as I'm afraid I'll try to act it out. Kim isn't nearly as nice looking as Trish, & my past with her doesn't warrant breaking up a marriage over, especially with someone who couldn't comprehend my authorial aspirations from within the prison of her deafness. I love my Bumble Bee Girl, even when she turns into Cranky Bear.
Yesterday morning I fixed Trish her traditional breakfast of pancakes, then once she left for work started reading C.J. Cherryh's book. After awhile I headed out to the barbershop in order to have my hair cut, but it was "closed this Saturday", so I stopped in at El Taco Loco & had a crazy taco. & fries. I started to watch Heavy Metal, then decided to call Trish's mom, who was very supportive of my recent problems with depression (which seem to be going away now that I'm writing again; I hope never to wright again in my life & Timothy Leary's dread). I added some red & orange to the painting I'm working on, which has such pretty purple mountains that I don't want to mess it up with too much additional paint.
Trish called around 1:30. It surprised me, as usually she's not off until at least 2:00. Apparently the Republicans were holding a free b-b-q, so Pizza Hut wasn't getting any business.
Then the complaints about her medicine started. Last week, when she ran out of Klonopin, Locoweed no longer being her doctor, we faxed down to Great Falls, & Trish wound up without her morning Klonopin, just the dose at bedtime. Her anxiety level has increased, but I'm not certain if this is because she's on less meds or if it's because she's aware that she's on less meds.
She brought home 2 big bowls of veggies from the salad bar, nummy treats.
So she finally took her shower, after a nap, then had to nap some more, in order to dry her feet to put a bandage on her foot. She wanted "something easy" for supper, so we wound up with macaroni & cheese. Then I asked her to wash the fry pan & ceramic bowl for breakfast the following day, & she turned into Cranky Bear: I hadn't run a load of dishes 'cause there wasn't much in the dishwasher so she became mad that there was "a whole sink full of dishes". I got scared. I always get scared when she's angry 'cause it reminds me of our break up. She apologized later on -- & attributed it to the Klonopin.
After supper we had quiet time, & we discussed Platinum Studios, as well as what I intend to do now that I've finished "Relayer". My initial inclination was to begin the sequel to Skyfight, but then I decided to maybe do a rewrite of "Astronomy Domine", because of the flaws noted in Fantasy Magazine's rejection slip, namely that it "had moments, but didn't win us over completely". It's going to Paradox next, a publisher of historical fiction who take alternate-history science fiction.
We finally turned the TV on, so Trish could see the news. When we were done with that Trish watched Groundhog Day while I took a bath. She wanted to go to bed early so that we'd have time to make out, but my meds made me impotent -- haldol, be the death of me! Also, I'm not using the Kim fantasy anymore, as I'm afraid I'll try to act it out. Kim isn't nearly as nice looking as Trish, & my past with her doesn't warrant breaking up a marriage over, especially with someone who couldn't comprehend my authorial aspirations from within the prison of her deafness. I love my Bumble Bee Girl, even when she turns into Cranky Bear.
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