This week has really kicked my ass, all the more because I just saw that yesterday's post that I thought went through, um, didn't. Well, whatever now, but I was excited that the New York Times UrbanEye wrote up In The Flesh. So did Meredith Bryan at The New York Observer. I'm really grateful for the coverage, especially as I know the time has come to end it, and I just can't seem to pull the plug.
I will figure it out though, because I think the toll it takes is a bit too much for me to handle. Don't get me wrong, it's always inspiring, and getting to hang with the likes of Rachel Resnick and Christen Clifford and their smart friends and feel like a peer was delightful. I just don't think I have what it takes to be a host, to hustle like that, to rebook things at the last minute. It's a little too much for no reward, you know? That sounds crass, perhaps, but it's true. I want things to matter, to be moving me forward, propelling me. I hate the feeling of stagnation or, worse, regression. I have the next few months planned and then will reassess. Part of me really hopes I'll be far gone from New York by then, or just in a better kind of New York, a better one for me.
I'm way too emotionally spent to break down the evening - you can relive it on YouTube soon, promise.
This weekend I have a lot of work to do, some of which I look forward to, some not so much though lately any baby step I take, I feel proud of. That's how far I've devolved, that sening an email seems like a major life accomplishment. I don't seem to quite know to finish things anymore, how to get them done, how to not let every opportunity slip out of my grasp - or more like, how to even try to grasp at all. At least, that's how it feels on a Friday night with too many items on the endless lists unchecked.
In the meantime, I have lots of books, and that's what I need right now. Parties, not so much. I'm loving Benoit Denizet-Lewis's book America Anonymous and will probably read that before I tackle:
booking January 15th's In The Flesh - it's been longer than I can remember that I didn't have the next month's reading all booked. Thanks to Chronicle Books deciding to, oh, lay off a bunch of their workforce, including, very sadly, publicist Darcy Cohan, and then changing Susie Bright's NYC date, I now have that month to fill, but I'll figure it out. At least I know no matter how cold it is February 19th, we'll have a full house.
writing an erotica story about Rapunzel
reading two books to review for Penthouse
Reading Amber Dawn's anthology Fist of the Spider Woman so I can blurb it
Other stuff that's even more boring than the above!
Anyway, my life is pretty dumb right now. Or at least, it feels that way, to put it extremely mildly cause I have this writer's block or whatever, which is why I've been sleepwalking through it the past few months. I am working on making it less dumb in 2009.