I got back to Buffalo at 2am. Seriously. The plane didn't start loading till midnight. We left the gate at 12:25. Circled Buffalo's airport for twenty minutes. Landed at 1:45. Sat on the tarmac for 15 minutes waiting for another late plane to unload. And finally hit the gate at 2. I didn't get home till nearly 3, thanks to it taking forever to unload the plane, get to my car, get the hell out of airport parking and into my apartment. I should never have joked about it.
So I didn't get up till noon...and I was still a bit brain dead, all day. I caught up on nonsense and did some artwork while listening to music. It's weird that just getting up at 6am and staying up 22 hours would screw me up so much, but even my body wasn't happy. In fact, the only time I left my apartment was to get mail. Maybe I'm coming down with something...or losing my mind. That, or I'm getting old.
I got a good review of "The Lyons' Den" on Good Reads, but the guy who did it apparently isn't posting it on his blog. Oh well, I thanked him and can now direct people to that, at least. But it seems my bit of promotion for LD isn't doing much of anything. B&N hasn't even set it up for Nook, yet, even though the Publisher's sent it to them twice in that format. I seriously doubt Random House has this sort of trouble.
Supposedly, NYPD Blood will have a cover design by Monday. I hope this publisher does a better job of promoting the book than I or either of my other two publishers have.
I stumbled onto an old story I was writing, a few years back. It's about this time I went camping with the Boy Scouts and first began to realize just how different I was from the other boys...because the assistant scout master wore a red square-cut Speedo when we were all splashing around in the river. I couldn't remember what I'd done with it, then discovered it on an old CD, by accident.
He looked a bit like this guy, just not as pouty, and the Speedo was seriously RED.
I may work on that once I'm done with WC.