Skinless

In Katie's words, I've spent the last couple of days wandering around without my skin on. Ray Bradbury's death yesterday hit me kind of hard, I was dealing with some edits that, in my skin-less condition, just served to convince me that I was a terrible writer, and I couldn't cope with my job at all. I was raw and emotionally knotted, for no reason. It felt like the worst of the PAWS.

I'm feeling much better, thank you. I have NO idea what that was all about. I took some positive action yesterday to alleviate my mood that seemed to help. Step one: go see Lev Grossman, Cat Valente, Kristin Cashore, N.K. Jemisin,  and Naomi Novik read at the New York Library. Step two: see some folks I've seen at other readings. Talk to them. Realize that I'm actually pretty good at this talking to people thing. Step three: have Lev Grossman start things off with a tribute to Ray Bradbury, which is sort of the reason I went. Step four: enjoy. Step five: properly inspired, go meet my friends to make some music of my own.

Mood = improved. Very much so. It was like waking up from a fever dream. Suddenly, the sun is shining, gravity is fifty percent lighter, and I can smile without thinking about it.

Speaking of edits, I'm taking the opportunity to let people know that I have a story coming up in the next Devilfish Review. I'm really proud of it - I'll let you know when it comes out. It's my first story publication since 1992, so what's 20 years?  Worth the wait, I hope.