Even as I...

Even as I prepare to finish the book I am already thinking about other things I want to do. And one of those things I am desperate for is to update my personal music library.

Some male singers I am really into that I need to make sure I have enough of their stuff is:
Richard Thompson
Leonard Cohen
David Sylvian

love these guys, must have more.

I'd forgotten about about Kate Bush, Lori Anderson, and Jane Siberry. I'll probably remember more, but I need to get back in touch with music with words in...

More from this week

I finally, really, got over the cold on Wednesday. It definitely slowed me down.

It's friday and I finally finished the last chapter's edits.... or, more honestly, I finally just gave up on chapter 12's edits and sent it in.

You see, the book may be finishing, but my heart's not currently in it.

I am alone, the weather's beautiful, the book is almost finished, and my boyfriend is adventuring in Portland OR without me. He was packing last night and this morning... then I drove him to the airport and drove home alone.

I cam home alone, to the silence, and the continued work. I was up until 3am this morning, then got up around 9am and kept going. The work didn't let up while my boyfriend was preparing to leave, nor when I had to take him to the airport (terrible traffic at first- it was so tempting to accidentally drive off in the wrong direction and just keep going....), and now I sit trying to keep going. I did manage to turn the chapter in, but now I just can't keep going.

I don't care anymore. I've been working desperately on these edits with the goal of; the moment I was done, I'd get to be with my boyfriend. As soon as I was done, I'd go upstairs where he'd be watching videos or playing games on his computer, and I'd say "Hey, I'm done. Let's go out and see a movie." And then life would start again. We'd do stuff, have fun. I'd get to appreciate his company without the constant pressure of finishing the book.

And now that he's not here, I don't care to finish. Screw it. Why bother? When I'm done, there'll be no one to go upstairs to.

argh-- summer cold

So, I'm trying to edit about 200 pages by Weds. I was doing well, other than the occasionally distracting flies, and that's why, for the last two days I've been suffering from a summer cold. Really painfully runny nose, watery eyes, burning in the lungs and overall fatigue (no coughing yet). I can't sleep because laying down is too much like drowning.

Argh.

Things that have helped:

• Exiling myself to the computer room in my house. This gray, dim, utilitarian room contains my servers and has to have an aircondition running at all times (even for most of the winter) in order for the room not to become dangerously hot and ruin the equipment. Because of this, the computer room has had completely filtered air for many months.

• Drinking *a lot* of water. Avoiding tea because the caffeine stresses my heart.

• Taking large quantities of vitamins. Doing an organic multivitamin, then augmenting it with copious amounts of C, zinc and iron. I toss in some extra potassium and magnesium too, again for my heart. It seems to work.

• Trying to sleep, sitting up, as often as I can-- screw the book (I cringe when I say that but I just can't handle having pneumonia twice in one year).

• When the burning and pain becomes too much, I spray saline (especially for nasal passages people, not the canned stuff for your eyes) up in there and then blow it out. It really, really helps. I recommend it, even though it's kinda weird feeling. Always rinse the nozzle thing under super hot water before putting it away.

• When the stuffiness and aching in the sinuses begins to feel like an infection, I have been boiling water, pouring it in a cup with a drop of tea tree oil, and breathing in the steam. Be careful about the oil-- it really works but it hurts like hell if you use too much, ahh the burning, the burning....

• Using neosporin on the outside of the nostrils. Man, my stupid skin is so, so sensitive, that having a runny nose for maybe a few hours causes major redness and pain. It's surprising. Neosporin helps.

Things to be careful about-- geting cold in any way, especially my face. Beware of the direct cold air from the aircondition. Last time I was sick and sat too close to the AC output I got an ear infection (and that *really* sucked). I really can't sleep laying down so I am trying to sleep sitting up. Whenever I've had sinus problems of any sort and laid down to sleep I've gotten bronchitis or pneumonia. I have a really small torso so I wonder if it's simply easier for the infection to travel to my lungs than it is for other people?

And let's not forget, I have to keep typing through all this. OMG, why does this have to happen now?! Not this weekend, please not now.....

I hate flies, hate hate hate

So I've got this new umbrella on my back deck.

It's red.

I don't really like red, but hey, I needed something to help keep the heat down back there. I often work in the dining room, which opens, through a sliding glass door, to the deck. And in the afternoon sun beats in and really makes it hot there. An umbrella helps. Not only to cool the deck, but to keep the dining room cool too.

However, I have found that because it's red, for some reason, it's easier to see my macbook pro's screen under it, even in broad, sunny daylight.

So here I am, happily typing on my deck, under my red umbrella. I am working away, tea on my left, bottle of water and a snacky bag of almonds on my right...

Typey, typey, tappity, tap. SMACK.

It has gotten warm back here after a cold night and cool morning. And the frickin' flies are out.

And to make matters worse, there are horseflies among them.

So now they are buzzing around me like fighter pilots, occasionally trying to hurt me. I swear they are intentionally torturing me.

Argh.

Well. I knew it was too nice to last. Back inside.

Speaking of inside, I really hate it when flies follow me inside. I can't stand the sound, I can't stand that they lick the world with their feet, and they keep trying to smack my head as they fly by. But it pleases me to see them, after a while, hanging out on the back and front doors, like dogs trying to get outside. There's nothing for them to eat in my house, those bastards...

Writing a book is a lot like poetry...

...either you can do it, or you can't.

How do I explain it?

I've been editing my work. I've had three technical editors edit my work. I've been editing other people's work. And all I can say is this-- either you can write a book or you can't.

It isn't about writing a chapter, it's about writing a book built, one at a time but altogether, out of chapters. There is a certain way you need to start it, to capture the reader, to share that vision. You have to know when to say something, how to say it, and how to leave it alone.

You either have a sense of flow, of timing, of rhythm and know when you should introduce a concept, when you should finish one, and when there is a concept that simply cannot be left behind. There is a certain symetry that must be maintained throughout. And trying to teach someone else how to do it is rough. Trying to just explain it is rough.

You start with an idea. You start with a concept of the book you'd want to read.

Then you flesh it out, building up the details that you'd want to see, you'd want to learn, that you'd be willing to pay for and go back to as a reference time and again.

Then while trying to write eight hundred pages of poetry, you begin fighting. Fighting for the time to do it right. To make changes, to do what is necessary to keep your original vision. It was right the first time, it is right now. No matter what the editors say. They care about arbitrary things that actually have nothing to do with the contents of the book, the accuracy of the book, or, really, the success of the book.

That's not their problem. They're paid to produce more books. Not produce good books, just more books. Quality is, you get the sense, their enemy, their nemesis. And when it looks like you are on quality's side, demanding time to do its work-- well, expect to fight for it.

It's been nine months. In the beginning I trusted them. I thought that, of course, we were on the same team, trying to put a good book out. I learned, five months later that was a lie. I was alone in wanting to put a good book out. They were not interested in good. Adequate was okay, but good wasn't a goal they shared with me.

Good was my problem, my albatross. Tied to my neck by my name. They had no such burden to bear.

And now I struggle, after fighting and fighting, to finish the book I am too tired to edit. I am exhausted beyond anything I've ever had to bear. I don't know how much more of this I can take--- and yet quiting is not an option.

All I know, for certain, is that nothing that comes of the book can be worth this. Already it has cost more in investment than it can ever make back. Even if it succeeds I cannot see how it can avoid being a failure. It was priced too cheap, its description doesn't match its contents, it has taken too long to edit, it has had too many people on staff, it is already going to be obsolete in some ways before it even prints.

I have forgotten why I did this--- oh yeah, to write the book I'd want to read.

Well, at this point, I never, ever want to read anything about sharepoint again. So what does that say?