In a couple of days it will be my birthday and I get to be 24 again! Hooray for me! That was kind of a shitty year and also kind of an awesome year, so I decided to go back in time and make the whole thing awesome. Thank goodness I found the genie in that magic blow-up doll. She comes in handy every so often (the genie, not the doll). (as an aside, I really am writing story about a genie in a blow-up doll--she's quite a trickster--again, the genie, not the doll.)
Back in reality, I received a most excellent gift already. A grab bag from Cemetery Dance, which included three signed and numbered hardbacks, a few back issues of the mag (too cool!) a tote bag, a frisbee and the best thing: a T-shirt with a short-short by none other than the great Brian Keene on the back. Yippie! I'm never taking it off, which means by the time I actually see Brian again and get him to sign the thing, he'll probably want to do it with a VERY LONG Sharpie. Not sure if they've been invented yet--I should get on that asap.
Anyway, not much else going on. Still wrestling the muse and getting my ass kicked. I seriously hate that bitch lately. Maybe I should just give up this whole writing nonsense and just go to law school or something. It certainly couldn't be any harder than this. Not that I'm complaining (much). Writing is a damn cool gig, usually. I just think if I'm going to crack my head open every day, I should at least be getting a decent wage for it. Crazy, I know. But that's me. Dreaming my life away.
So, wish me a happy birthday if you feel like it. Buy a book, leave a review, blow me a kiss. Whatever. I promise to blow you back. (hahaha!)