Chapter 75.9: Re-Energized

It's rainy and miserable outside, I've not had my supper yet, and I am daunted by the great number of things I hope to accomplish during the weekend and the challenges that face me at work next week. So why do I feel so energetic?

I won't go through all the details, but I feel like I'm accomplishing things. The book is moving along again and will soon be ready to venture out on its own, tapping on the shoulders of agents and trying to call attention to itself. They're so cute when they're precocious. While I had my difficulties on the train this week with balky outlets that refused to power my laptop, I still was able to make headway on these final edits.

I also received a nice comment on The Elephant's Bookshelf on a post from last August. Little things like that make me smile ... hint hint hint.

Perhaps I won't get into the 200s with my final revisions tomorrow. I might not run as many miles as I intend in the morning. Who knows, I might forget to change the storm windows or clean out my car. The Mets might lose. I may have to perform CPR on Sunday. But for now, on Friday night, before I've poured a smooth dram of scotch, the weekend is looking good. Clear!

Chapter 67.2: That Kind of Weekend

So many beers, so little time. Nice piece on Maine beers in the New York Times.

Chapter 57.5: A Good Weekend

It's not even noon yet, and already I feel like I've had a fantastic weekend. There's much I still need to do. Eat breakfast, go to the supermarket, jog, help my brother move some stuff in his house. But rare weekends like this, where I actually have two days that I can use, become precious.

This morning, before we got out of bed, I read another thirty pages or so of Lisey's Story by Stephen King. This is the book that actually appears to have had an editor touch it, and it's an improvement over many of his recent novels. My wife is struggling through Cell, which she says takes 110 pages to describe what could easily have been accomplished in less than half that amount. I've not read it, but when a devoted reader like my wife starts skimming her favorite author, you can be sure there's problems with the story. As for Lisey, the novel took about seventy pages to get to the real threat, but he took that time to cast out a few other story lines related to the characters. I respect King's love of the craft, even though he irritates me with his that/which problems.

So, dear reader, you see that for me a good weekend needn't be all sun and shine and lunar eclipse. Sometimes it can be simply a warm bed, a cup or two of coffee, and a book to read. At least until the baseball season starts.