I hadn't realized how much I was looking forward to this trip to Paris till it fell apart. I even tried to talk the boss into letting me fly into Barcelona and take an overnight train up to the city. It would've put me in at 9am on the day I had to help with the fair's move-out, but I could've crashed at the hotel for a few hours and worked and still had all of Monday to do the city, like I'd planned. But it would've added 250 euro to the cost and now it looks like I'd have had to go BACK to Barcelona to get out of Europe, the way that volcano is going. It'll be interesting to see what happens with all those book dealers trying to get home on Monday.
I wonder what this means for the long term? If it keeps blowing for a year or two, like it did a couple centuries ago, Heathrow, De Gualle and Frankfurt are doomed as major airports for passengers and freight; it'll all have to move south to Spain and Italy...which may happen anyway, after this fiasco.
The only positive note for me is, "Desert Land" is close to being done. I'm about to start on my 8th official draft and I hope I've increased its intensity rather than diminished it. There's a lot packed into this story...maybe too much...but it's finally feeling almost right in the narrator's arc and the style is working consistently, now. Very immediate in nature. I also think having some anger at my current situation helped solidify the story's meaning. We'll have to see...because the next step is putting it away for a while -- longer this time, absolutely -- and letting it ferment like wine. Problem is, you never know how the wine's going to turn out till you uncork the bottle -- if it'll be beauty or vinegar -- but that's half the fun.
I'm now going to drive up to Niagra-on-the-Lake so I can at least say I got out of the country this weekend. I'm NOT in a US frame of mind...and if all I can do is Canada, so be it.