The first draft, she is finished.
It wasn’t pretty, but it got done. On the last day of my deadline, I was sitting in the Tea Lounge, typing wildly. The keys literally started to fly off my laptop. I was typing without an X, S, and D key. The space bar began to stick. Every other word out of my mouth was some variation on the theme of foulness. Also, my hair hadn’t been brushed, and my clothes were mismatched. Yeah, preeeeetty. I had to email my editor by 4pm…and the WiFi failed. No connection. I was like an insane woman, hobbling from spot to spot inside the Tea Lounge hoping to piggyback on someone’s signal. No dice. So I’m racing down the street, leaving a message for my editor in a panicked voice, holding my laptop under my arm, darting into all the coffee shops I know have WiFi, going, “Hi, excuse me, can I just send this…?” I finally got it zapped off to Random House via cyberspace. And three days later, my computer went into a complete coma. I would hover over it whispering, “Please, Trixie, come into the light.” Nada. Zilch. Zippo. Trixie was so over it all. We managed to revive her long enough to save files. (Um, back your stuff up. Nuff said. I nearly had a heart attack thinking about how everything I’ve written in the past few years was on this thing and was about to be gone for good.)
So, what have I done with myself lately?
Laundry. Lots and lots of laundry. Downloaded music. Watched the cat bonk her head–repeatedly–against the glass trying to chase the squirrel in our backyard. (To be fair, the squirrel knows what time it is and taunts the cat. I’m pretty sure I caught it flipping the bird to Little Squeak. I was half tempted to let her out.) Read at the Brooklyn Literary Festival where I also got to see the fantabulous Holly and Theo Black, Justine Larbelestier, Scott Westerfeld, Ann Brashares, Aimee Friedman, Phil Bildner, Kevin Lewis, Mo Willems, Jaida Jones, Margaret Crocker, Maureen Johnson, and many others. Then I hightailed it down to King of Prussia, PA, for the NAIBA awards where I got to hang with very cool indie booksellers and snag some freebies.
What else…I’ve been reading books–bliss. Caught up on “Project Runway.” (Jeffrey. He’s my guy.) Barry and I caught The Raconteurs in concert at Roseland Tuesday night. My ears are still ringing. Sometimes I forget how much I love hearing live music and how I used to spend practically every waking moment trying to finagle tickets to this or that show. Must do that more often. Took the trash out. Hung a picture. Bought sheets. Got a new MacBook Pro that is completely intimidating to my puny, technologically-challenged brain. (Still haven’t figured out my email yet.) Discovered two letters that I thought I had mailed a year ago. Ate something green that was actually supposed to be green and my body went, “Hey, what’s with this salad and broccoli bidnesst? Where’s the chocolate and coffee you’ve been feeding us for six months solid?” And I said, “No can do. One more month of that and I will have to go to Lowe’s to build a shelf to carry my ass around.” My body grumbled and threw me hateful looks behind my back but what can you do?
Tomorrow, I fly to Boston to spend the weekend with my buddy Eleanor who has been my BFF since 7th grade when we got in a huge fight about who was better, Kiss or Led Zeppelin. (Zeppelin rules.) And in another week, I’ll probably get that revision letter and have to hunker down again. Goodbye, broccoli. Hello, double lattes.
But for now, it’s fall; the weather is fine, and I am due some R ‘n’ R.