Well, since nearly everyone on my f-list seems bound and determined to write a book or continue with the writing of same, despite my best advice, all I can say is stock up on coffee and make sure your loved ones are tolerant 🙂
I have to say, though, this weekend has been pretty good. I have a feeling that I’ll be trying to figure out what to do with myself for a while yet. Fortunately, there is already errata to write up (SUL was fully implemented the day after we went to press); marketing to do; Wikimania stuff to do, etc. etc. I am far from free of all my obligations 🙂
I bought a bike! It looks like this:
Except blue. Her name is Lucy.
These reviews pretty much sum up my position: this is a bike for someone who likes bicycles and likes to ride but hasn’t done so seriously for a long time, if ever. I have been relying on my old cruiser for getting around town and commuting (1 mile), but haven’t done very much beyond that for ages…
I went out for an hour and twenty minutes this morning (over the highway, along the bike path that parallels the ag college research fields), and came back sweaty but happy, painfully aware of just how out of shape I really am but feeling like I was recovering the use of my legs after a long absence. It’s a good bike. I had thought about getting a road bike but was a little scared; next time, maybe.
I am hoping that I will be able to/convince myself to ride enough to develop my muscles again, which I think will be good for my bum knees if nothing else. I like biking because it is fairly low-impact, and it’s fast, and you can see new things (and it can be useful, if you go to the grocery store or whatever), and because even in my current state of flabbiness I have pretty strong legs, so it’s something I am reasonably good at.
Now, I am trying to organize bills and a summer’s worth of mail which has piled up; and reading The Murder Room which is quite good, masterfully written like all James’ novels.
Her tone is quite distinctive: she has an incomparable ear for the modern English voice. I read literature, as the British would say, or studied English, as the Americans would say, in school; but it wasn’t until I wrote a book with a Brit that I really focussed on and discovered the differences in dialog and tone that are sometimes quite stark between our two Englishes. James’ books are always cleverly plotted and magnificent discourses on the human condition, but she also captures British dialog impeccably, and as a result my inner monologue has picked up the same tone, as it is wont to do after a long afternoon of reading a compelling writer. So I suppose I am not organizing bills, I am putting affairs in order, and might afterwards have a cup of tea.