Whew. So the week of musical computers and training like there's no tomorrow is over. My time will still be stretched pretty thin as I find my rhythm at a new desk and figure out the new area, but at least I'll be doing so from my own desk with my own computer. My sanity was tapped by the end of the week because I hate change only slightly less than I hate moving. Most of that stress should be gone now. I spent yesterday finishing my revisions for Part One. I had meant to dive into revisions for Part Two today, but then I realized just how badly the apartment needed cleaning. Fighting entropy took priority, and now I'm just going to chill for the rest of the night.
Giving Up: I've updated my "Currently Reading" thing on the side bar. I've given up on Cherryh's Faded Sun trilogy. It's been a long time since a book has frustrated me that much. I'll probably give it a try again later, but I just don't have the patience for a really cool story line that moves at the pace of molasses because of detours into weather reports and intricate details and feelings and actions that don't seem to have any bearing on anything and serve only to throw a wrench into what quick pace the book accomplishes every now and then. Sheila, you've spoiled me. I expect all my fiction to move at lightning speed and never let me put it down and still provide me with a rich experience. The only thing that makes me mad about that is that I find so little fiction other than yours that doesn't do that. And yet those editors and agents keep telling me I should be writing stories like yours (in terms of pace and depth and such). If we're all supposed to be writing like that, how come I keep finding fiction that misses the mark? This is a frustration as a reader, not a writer. Although the writer finds it frustrating too. :)