:: Monday, March 5, 2001 ::

 

1:04 a.m. I guess we can get used to anything, if we're given enough practice. Today's lesson: it's going to rain, again. At least we're not on the other coast, which is experiencing a much, much much much worse storm than ours.

I got the photo from a great weather web site, by the way.

Meanwhile, weather or not, I'm attempting to be efficient on all fronts: get the mail out, get the email answered, get the entry started, get the novel reformatted, get the store operational. Get the floors vacuumed and be glad that God has taken on the watering project for this morning.

Plus, it's not leaking, at all -- and that's odd.

Last night's Soprano two-hours is still resonating in my mind, especially the character of Janice. Actually, now that I think about it, the whole group of them resonates. The women are well-written and well-costumed and the sets are, well, perfect. The opening scene of the New Jersey neighborhood as dawn lights the stage was a heartbreaker.

As you might have noticed by now, I don't particularly like to put reviews here on these pages. I love to read them if they're about something I've seen or read or what to see or read, but I don't like to write them. Most of all, I don't like to read my own reviews.

This is causing me a bit of a conundrum as I get ready to put my old, out-of-print novel back up for sale. I always (usually, sometimes) appreciate reading what other people have to say about a book before I buy it, but it feels as if I'm being immodest when I post the reviews for Cleaning House.

It's not that they were bad reviews. Far from it. They were, in some cases, raves of the sort that you dream about, until you actually get them and then you immediately assume a fetal position that can last upwards of twenty years.

It would be nice if I could get over myself and just treat each stage of this process like the commerce moment that it is. All I'm trying to do is to make a few dollars with the work that I love. Is that so wrong? Must be wrong, because it feels so ...

... more later, I'm sure.

11:10 p.m. Such a complicated subject. I mean, you've got the mountains on one side and the cold front coming in from Alaska that's due to crash headlong into the Pineapple Express direct from Hawaii, and really, there's nothing to do but assume the position and wait for the clouds to clear.

And I thought this would be easy.