na foine ting
Monday, March 15, 2004
A while ago, someone I admire hugely asked me for a collection of my stuff, all together, where he could read it and enjoy it at once rather than in fits and starts.
It took me a while, but eventually I got it to him. A big hand-bound volume, filled with all the fire and ice essays, a few other essays, random fiction and erotica.
I got a note from him today, thanking me and letting me know he'd gotten it. He's off to London to talk to someone about a new role, busy and globetrotting as usual.
He said he'd read the volume while he was away, though, and that it was packed in his suitcase.
I like the idea of it there, tucked between scripts and papers and his carefully folded shirts.
Ice Hounds practice went great. I'm loving the team, loving the players and just, as they say, damn happy to be there. The only bummer was Bec's being injured and not on the ice. I miss having her in goal.
Though clearly she can razz Brian just as effectively from the sidelines.
Brian, who has no business playing either, but it's still so fucking great to have him around.
I queried the Agent who helped me out with Del Rey about the fire and ice essays. This after a year long state of paralysis about the whole thing, mostly having to do with the general worry that they're one long obnoxious whinefest.
Once I'd figured out that was the case and could let go, it was surprisingly easy to start trying to sell them.
Funny how easier it is to peddle something once you're convinced it has only marginal worth.
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