State of the Meerkat, Monday Edition

March did not exactly start off with a bang - Saturday was reasonably busy, but then I got nailed with serious insomnia Sunday morning (not a thing I am normally prone to, thankfully) and the rest of the day my brain felt much like wet taffy. I can no longer function on 4 hours of sleep.  Oh hell, I never could. Six, yes. Four, no.  Managed to get some editing and pre-editorial reading done, but not so much with the writing.

On the other hand, I did manage to clear out and sort my email, so that the Actual In Box (as opposed to the side subject folders) is easily scannable, and nothing will get lost.  For at least a week, anyway.  However, in the process some settings got wonked (I touched nothing, I swear!) and now Thunderbird will only d/l email from the Gmail account, but not SEND anything, and ignores the sff.net account entirely.  I have access to mail, I just have to interact with it via the web portals, which I HATE. Have sent out the usual cries for help to the usual suspects.

This week, I'll be doing the final pass on DOGHOUSE (Gin & Tonic #3) page proofs, working on a client manuscript edit, starting work on the Kickstarter bonus projects, and continuing work on SILVER ON THE ROAD (The Devil's West 1) and TAGGED (Gin & Tonic #4).  Oh, and there's that short story I started, too.  Should go poke at that some more.

Slide a pizza under the door, willya?

Meanwhile, there's a nice review of PACK OF LIES here, from Musings And Ramblings. It's always good to see older books getting discovered/loved. :-D

proof of work, and unwork.

Killed any number of little darlings today.

He’d thought the brim would shade her face enough, the crown suitable to a woman. He hadn’t thought much more than that. He hadn’t thought, once her face was half-shaded, the dark brown felt matching the dun of her jacket and the dust on her boots, that the Isobel of the saloon would begin to disappear.

and

One of the faro dealers had developed a case of nerves that made him imagine spiders on his arms when he was falling asleep.  He’d sworn off drinking and moved south to take up farming, instead.  But Izzy hadn’t had a drop to drink, and quitting wasn’t an option for her.

Still ended up adding 3k new words.  Oops.  Chapter 8 is with betas. Chapter 9 and 10 revised.  Chapter 20 rough-drafted.


In other projects, we're 4,000 words into Gin & Tonic #4. The opening line: Going sixty miles an hour was no time to feel someone licking the side of your face.

So that's 7,000 words on the day.  God, bring me that pizza, and a drink.

And two new freelance stories just landed for editing.  Better make that drink a double.