Mayday

I took a personal day from work today, not wanting to have to deal with the chaos that's sure to emerge downtown with the huge immigration protest (I heard estimates of as many as 300,000 people turning up in Grant Park, which probably means more like 500,000 will show up). Anyway, since that last protest made commuting outright hell, I decided I'd avoid it entirely by taking a day away from work and getting some short stories out to magazines. I've got three on my desk, packed and ready for postage. I'll take care of that this morning.

Saw the Warhol exhibit this weekend at the MCA, and thought it was a little thin, to be honest. The MCA always does that -- way too much white space between the walls. Is there so little good modern art that they have to do that, or is their curator phenomenally lazy? I liked when the Terra Museum of American Art was still tucked in its ridiculously tiny gallery space on the Mag Mile -- it was cozy and intimate, but had wonderful artworks in there that the people in the big queue for caramel corn a couple doors down probably never noticed.

Anyway, I'd hoped that they had more of his work on display, but no such luck. But for $10, I can't really complain, I suppose, although they had so much exhibit space under construction, that was also a disappointment. I'd be happy to put together some sculpture for them if they're hurting for exhibits! ;)

So, I'm going to take four different book drafts I've written over the years (starting from '99) and query agents with them -- two "literary" pieces, one fantasy, one science fiction. For years, I would revise and natter about with them, but I'm determined now to just throw them out there and see what happens. Odds are they'll just come bouncing back with rejections, but there's only one way to know for sure! This is on top of the cynical piece I alluded to the other day, which I've only just begun.

The first one I wrote in 1999, during a glorious six-month stint without a job. That remains a fond memory, writing ~10-15 pages a day, single-spaced, clacking away like a word whirlwind. I want to get back to that in the worst way -- when I get a bunch of material done, I'm so happy. Anyway, that's my goal for 2006, writingwise.