Cleaned fingers crossed

[rinue]

Couldn't meet with the editor yesterday because she was sick. Couldn't meet with the editor today because Ciro is sick enough that I had to send him to the doctor this morning for a high fever, shakes, and an aching digestive system. Apparently, it's a virus going around that doesn't cause vomiting or diarrhea or congestion any of the other unpleasant symptoms that nevertheless help your body get rid of something; instead, it leaves you in a lot of pain for days and days until your liver and the fever eventually kill it.

So he is now sequestered in a sick room and I have spent the day bringing him gourmet dishes like "watery oatmeal with sugar on it" and the famous "watery rice with salt on it," which he eats two bites of and then sets aside and won't let me clean up because he's very contagious. I then wash my hands a lot. And drink tea.

I hope it's flu. I'm vaccinated against flu.

Making gradual progress on the Digby manuscript, which continues to be a pleasure to read and a real pain in the ass to write.

Comments

[valancy_jane]

Having previously never written anything longer than 75 pages, at 150 I am bogged down in "crap, the scene was in summer but it was two weeks ago and now it's the dead of winter. Where did I put the troops in the second week of December? This weapon makes no sense because of what happened on page 85. OMG her mother has three different hair descriptions." I cannot imagine if this were, to boot, historical. Dear God.

MUST MAKE CHARTS NEXT WEEK.

[rinue]

And it's alt history, of course, which makes it worse for my Relentless Logic Brain, which is like "but if physics/magic worked that way from the beginning of time, this country wouldn't even have these boundaries or be named England, let alone use an internal combustion engine" and then I have to beat myself around the head with a stick on which I have written "please accept your own premise."

[valancy_jane]

BWAHAHAHHAHA

I love the stick.