Weeks don’t get crazier than this

mohawk girlDue to a confluence of circumstance, I taught every day and every night this week, either live or online. Summer ends here in a screaming frenzy of cicadas under a 40 degree Celsius sun and nights too hot and too still to mention. Lie there and hope for morning. Last night I finally fell asleep with my head at the foot of my bed, naked except for an ice pack clutched to my chest.

In other news, a new two-book contract in the works with a powerhouse indie publisher I’ve had my eye on for a while, more as it unfolds. Racing to finish the collection for another publisher who also needs to remain nameless for now. And if that wasn’t enough, some other brouhaha around a prize for which American Monster is being considered. Or something. Also on the QT for now. One of those weeks where everything and nothing happens at once.

On the way to work yesterday, I listened to Rayya Elias talk about her new book, Harley Loco. I didn’t know who Elias was before this. I’ve always liked the idea of hair as an act of rebellion.

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