Thursday, Jul. 12, 2007 - 6:49 a.m.

I left my wheat paste out last night and now it's going to be all crusty. Wheat paste is great the first day only; after that you can a) leave it out without a lid on (goes crusty); b) leave it out with a lid on (goes moldy and smelly quickly), or c) put it in the fridge (gets squooshy because of condensation, whether it has a lid or not). But that first day of fresh wheat paste, it's glorious.

I have no more shows till September, so I have the rest of July and all of August to wrap up my paper should I choose to. My idea was that I would do this: make stuff, write, make stuff, write. But now that we're here, and the time has come, I don't wanna. I just wanna make stuff. I know, surprising. I think I'd better try, though. Just leaving something halfway done kinda stinks. I mean, a degree, sure, but a paper-- that seems even lamer, somehow.

During our holiday I read:
Definitely Dead by Charlaine Harris
A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore
The Testament of Gideon Mack by Somebody Whose Name I Can't Remember
Widdershins by Charles DeLint
The latest Scotland Street novel by Alexander McCall Smith.

I think that's it. We kept having to buy books. That bad thing about traveling with readers, we require constant feeding of our habit. I think we bought 7 books in all while we were there (including one on the semantics of causation that we came upon in a nice used bookstore in Glasgow next to the funky tea shop).

Also read half of this other book that I'm still working on. I can't remember the title, and I'm not sure if I like it or not. It's adventury, and the author keeps referring to this one character as 'disreputable', as in 'the disreputable Stave' every other page. I can't decide if it's a good move or a lame one, all that repetition like that. Possibly in lieu of character development.

�