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Restfullessness
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It's been a bad week for rest.

Heather and I have been staying up too late some nights, getting up too early others, taking oddly-timed naps (that's me, mostly), and generally stumbling around in a not-quite-rested state. There are morning appointments to get to, or missed hours of sleep to catch up on, and nothing is quite in synch, and we're both running sleep deficits. I fell asleep in the uncomfortable waiting room of the dentist's office this morning! Everything's been hazy and foggy and strange. There hasn't been enough time to even brew and drink coffee in the morning. I feel like I'm living inside a Ramsey Campbell story sometimes, in an atmosphere of pervasive dread and emotional claustrophobia (I attribute that sensation to 1) the aforementioned sleep problems and 2) the fact that I'm deep into Campbell's new story collection, which is quite good, but goes a bit too well with my unpleasant mental state). It's very odd. I've been wanting to get out of the house, go to a cafe or have dinner out or something -- to somehow bust up this unpleasant flow -- but somehow the logistics have always defeated me, or it's seemed like too much trouble, or there have been other things that need to be done at home first, or whatever. Anyway, tonight Heather and I are both going to bed at reasonable hours, and we've made a plan to go out tomorrow night, and sit in a cafe, and feel like part of the world, and read, and drink coffee. I suspect that a good night's sleep and a change of scene is all I need to feel less groggy and less easily-defeated. And while Heather has rather more immediate and significant stress in her life, I think catching up on her sleep and getting out of the house will do her good, too. Let's hope so.

Not surprisingly, it hasn't been a very productive week, writing-wise. I haven't done anything, except take notes about the Frog novel. I'm still planning to plow through a large chunk of the book next week, while I'm on vacation. I may not finish it, but I should come close. When I have a few days in a row off, I'm always tempted to over-schedule and try to cram too many things in, trips into the city and movies and shopping and so on, which is a temptation I'm resisting this time. Not that I won't let myself have fun or gallivant around or do a bit of Xmas shopping, but I'm going to try to stick to a real writing schedule, too. I'm looking forward to that time a lot.

Other things. Dora Goss's new story "Sleeping with Bears" is at Strange Horizons now, and it's wonderful, just like every other story she's published. And in other, um, bear-related news, congrats to Elizabeth Bear for her three-book deal! It's always nice to hear about first novelists selling books.



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