I feel kind of bad about some things. Stuff that has fallen through the cracks. Books I promised to read for friends. Books I promised my agent I would revise and send. People sending me pages right and left to look at.
But the truth is, a person can only do so much. I try to be accommodating, I think more than most authors. But even I have limits. So I’m sorry if I owe you something. I have a life and it’s a chaotic, crazy fun one.
I’m in Grad school, which always takes more time than I expect. When I took these particular classes, which are film centric, I didn’t expect to be reading 300 pages of academic text as well as one to two books a week for school, and writing papers every week for both classes. When I came back from press tour in Los Angeles in January, I wasn’t expecting to be hit with mono — again. I wasn’t expecting to receive 10 or so RITA books to read. I wasn’t expecting to get hit with the flu and bacterial infection at the same time. And in between all that I’ve had conferences (that were booked a year in advance) every other weekend. I’ve been teaching an intense workshop where I have to read the first 10 pages of every student’s manuscript. I have to hit two or three films a week in Dallas for the day job. And I do have a “real” day job where I’m still writing three columns/cover stories a week.
That doesn’t mean I don’t love and adore you. I do. I promise. But if something is really important to you, you have to send me reminders. And even then do so with the understanding that I live with daily priorities and deadlines that have to be met every single day.
Let me give you an example. Had to run my niece to school. I had to finishing editing my stories for this week and get them on the server. Then I have to edit co-worker’s stories. I had to go to doc to get a shot. Had to rush some of my books to my agent. Pick up a prescription. Get a birthday card for nephew. Read three of my student’s first 10 pages and respond to questions from one of my professors for a project. That was before 11 am this morning. When I finish this, I have to do my AFS for Harlequin on my Marine book, write at least 20 pages of a book that is due in a month. I have to do all that by 4 p.m. because I have to drive two hours to go see Red Riding Hood. Then I have to come home around 11 and figure out how in the heck to organize a ppt. presentation for school on reluctant mothers in science fiction, and figure out how to write the 15 page paper that goes with it. Oh, and I need to finish my review of A Philadelphia Story.
That’s an average day for me, and I do it seven days a week. I’m not complaining. I LOVE my life. I’m certainly never bored.
But I want you to understand that if I forget stuff, it isn’t personal. :) I heart you, I do. I’m just really, really busy.