Sunday, January 07, 2007

Shit, Damn... Motherfucker

Manuscript for Volume 2 of Blood Beats is due in less than four weeks. Nothing has gone according to plan. Feverishly worked to stack funds so I wouldn't have to be face-down-ass-up hustling bill-paying work as I finished Vol. 2. The goal was to take Dec and Jan off to do nothing but finish the book. So close, so close, but so much to do. I'm proud of this second kid. She's got big, throbbin', ninja-what ovaries. I like her. She's the product of my muse, who ain't a delicate, Grecian gown wearing, harp-strumming little deity. My muse strolls in wearing a ratty fur coat, with a lukewarm Pepsi in one hand and a bag of Funyons in the other. Kicks off her shoes and says, "Nickel, I ain't got all night. I got shit to do and places to be. Write this down..." Things were going Halle Berry make-me-feel-good good. And then: Illness, financial setbacks, blah, blah, blah. A wholly unoriginal dilemna.

Watched the History Boys the other night (meh... don't bother) but had to laugh out loud when one of the students, after being asked to define history, blurted, "It's just one fookin' thing after anudda..."

There are children starving around the world; whole towns/villages/cities are dodging bombs and burying sons and daughters; New Orleans is still shell-shocked and criminally unattended, so what the fuck am I whining about?

But still...

Shit.
Damn.
Motherfucker.

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