I know I’ve had some long gaps between
posts, but I really didn’t mean for this to go so long. Fact is, I’ve had some
big news…but almost the very day I wanted to write about it, my computer died.
Well, that’s a bit dramatic. Turns out there’s a little pin in the charging
port and the charger fits over the pin. Except that this time, the charger
decided to eat the pin and pull it off. No more charging! And I don’t have a
detachable battery, so finding another way to charge was not an option.
Getting the computer fixed was quite an
adventure, but first, in ascending order:
Big News
Stasis: First, our landlords are
renewing our lease! I hadn’t really even realized they might not without showing
signs of unhappiness with us, but then I started hearing horror stories of
friends whose landlords were telling them to get out quick. But nope, no fuss.
Moving Down(town): Second, the office
finally moved from the Flatiron to Varick Street. I traded a lovely view of the
Empire State Building in the morning and the line at Shake Shack during the day
for the views of Canal Street in the morning and One World Trade Center during
the day. Well, I quickly realized that walking up to Grand Street gave me nicer
views of south Soho and an easier walk (no dodging tourists and fake Prada bag
hawkers).
The new office is great: colorful,
lived-in, open space so that we can all help each other out, full of small
meeting rooms for when we need to make our calls to the UK, and—a highlight for
me—containing not only one but TWO break rooms with actual tables where we can
eat lunch. Hallelujah! The tea selection still stinks, but that’s nothing new.
Now the really big news…
Moving Up: After over a year and a half
at my job, I’ve been promoted! Yep, instead of being an Editorial Assistant, I
am now an Assistant Editor! It’s basically the same thing except that I also
get to acquire books. It means more time recruiting authors, and since working
with authors is the best part of the job, well, it’s pretty great. I’m also
working with a fantastic new series editor on a series that I actually helped
get off the ground, which is exciting. I can’t wait to get some more projects
in.
Computer Woes and Historical Side Trips
It’s a darn good thing I got the
promotion, too, because that computer repair wasn’t cheap. It didn’t exactly
break the bank—I had a couple options—but the worst part wasn’t the cost or the
inconvenience but the difficulty of finding a place to get it repaired.
I started out looking for an official
Asus repair shop in Long Island City. Left work a few minutes early because the
shop closed at 6 and I’d been getting home from Varick around then. Switched
trains, walked up and down the sidewalk past a penitentiary (so labeled) and
didn’t find it. Did some phone Googling and found out that it had moved into
Manhattan. Well, since I was already on the hunt I figured I’d go find it. Got
back on the train. Two transfers. No near subway, so I got out at Grand Central,
which is just as bad as Times Square. Walked a good way, found the address,
front door was under construction so found the back door…and when I asked at
reception, I was told they’d moved out a month ago.
I gave up for the night. When I went to
their new address (I don’t know if it was the next day or the day after that),
I found it, but they wanted $250 to fix the computer and replace the charger.
Yikes!
Next, on the weekend, I ventured forth
into the Financial District in the pouring rain to look for a place with a
great repair deal. I got a bit turned around and ended up stuck in the One
World Trade Center plaza because there was apparently only one side open to
entrance and exit. Further wandering finally confirmed my fears—the address was
in a building under thorough renovation next to the World Trade Center site. I
got out of the rain for a bit, emailed their office, and was told that they
were now in Brooklyn! Yeah, I wasn’t going that far.
I took a break to check out the African Burial Ground National Monument, which had caught my eye on another occasion
but had been closed. The Memorial is on the site of a massive colonial New York
graveyard, where slaves buried their dead quickly, in increasingly smaller
groups as laws became more strict, between sundown and nightfall (because
slaves had to work during the daylight hours). Hundreds of people were buried
there—and the site had been all but forgotten until excavation was begun for a
new tower. After a good bit of activism, the city agreed to give the site a
proper archaeological excavation, followed by the construction of a memorial,
an international dedication, and the reinterment of the remains. So much of the
north likes to forget that slavery was part of its history—the monument is badly
overlooked and much needed.
Anyway, after I’d seen all there was to
see, I headed off in search of one more shop on the West Side. Two subway
transfers with a longer walk than I wanted when my shoes were soaked and I’d
been on my feet for hours. As it turned out, there were two repair shops at the
address and I ended up in the wrong one…but they were welcoming, quickly told
me what was wrong and what needed to be fixed, and offered a decent rate to get
it fixed. True, it was a day later than expected, but by that point I was so fed
up looking for repair shops and I had such good service that I don’t really
care. They even fully charged the battery before returning the computer!
The result is, as you can see, a fixed
computer.
In the Writer’s World
In the world of writing, I’ve been
chugging away at my latest project, which has required all that odd research I’ve
been tweeting about.
At the turn of the twentieth century, tungsten is in high
demand for its use in strengthening steel, and some enterprising industry
barons have solved the problem of Progressive Era labor laws by sponsoring
criminals to serve their sentences as productive “employees” at their company’s
mine in the Yukon. Quiesence McGee hopes to keep her head down, but her medical
certification attracts the attention of one of the area’s only resident non-criminals—Charlemagne
Mason, eccentric son of a wealthy industrialist who’s running an experimental
school hundreds of miles from civilization. It turns out that he needs her help:
his right-hand man is Frankenstein’s creation, and the patchwork body is
starting to break down after almost a century of post-mortem life. Things get
even more complicated when the spring thaw brings some of Mister Mason’s old
high society acquaintances…who notice that dear boy Charlie doesn’t look anything like
he used to.
It’s a lot to take on, and I only know
what I want to happen—I’m letting the characters take me there. The story’s
going to need a lot of work later, but right now I’m just trying to get a draft
done, even if that means no going back to standardize my experiments with
tenses and points of view. When I’m not writing, I’m having a ton of fun
researching everything related to the story. Let me tell you, coming up with
names and backstories for more than thirty women criminals is both fun and
challenging! I’ve always loved researching for stories, and this is probably
the most I’ve ever done.
From the Pages of…
I have a big of catching up to do on
GoodReads. Fortunately I have a single volume of Shakespeare, so I don’t need
to review all four of the plays in Shakespeare’s second Henriad individually.
Man, though, what a political mess! I had trouble keeping track of all the
characters when so many people had the same name or took over titles from
people who’d been killed in the previous plays. That said, it was all very
interesting. You don’t often see plays featuring weak kings—who aren’t even the
center of their own stories. Henry VI was a stark contrast to his father,
grandfather, and uncle, but even King Richard II commanded the attention of the
other characters despite his failure. But maybe that’s part of what made Henry
VI so interesting; he’s so different from the other kinds and queens in the
histories surrounding him.
I’ve also finished a book that I would
have appreciated much more when I was younger, reread most of Frankenstein (for the story I’m working
on), started reading Paradise Lost
(ditto), and started pecking at a book for casual reading. We’ll see if it
lasts.
I also spent a portion of my weekend at
my parents’ home opening boxes in search of Becky’s Norton Critical Edition of Frankenstein. I’d been green with envy
when I saw the book that she got for one of her classes, and was eager to get
my hands on the essays for more (probably excessive, in this case) research.
Becky even said I could keep the book if I managed to find it in the mountain
of boxes whose contents are waiting for their final destination once the attic renovation
is finished.
This was already going to be a bit
daunting, as the Lawrence family has a ridiculous number of books. Alas, the curse
of the packers’ terrible labeling struck again. Only two boxes of books had
Becky’s name on them, and I even found a few boxes of my own things that were
labeled “books” (no room or name added) that contained nothing of the sort. I
gave up on Saturday, then, right before I left, I decided to open the boxes in
the living room that were only labeled “books”. Two of them contained Becky’s
books, so I thought I might have a hope of finding Frankenstein yet. I went back to the boxes near Becky’s furniture
and opened a one that didn’t have a room specified. Sure enough, there it was! And
man do those essays sound interesting!
I’d better bring this entry to a close
now, since I know I’ll have another one coming up soon—this Saturday is the
Lower East Side’s Pickle Day!
