cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spaz I am such a fucking spaz today. Our accord seems to be holding up very well. We are both very happy and gleefully discussing the people whom we each hope to fuck. Scads of work today. I got linked to by Instapund1t. Bombarded with email. I was asked today to appear on a syndicated radio show and that is pretty well worked out. We're doing it remotely in a few weeks. Someone else invited me to come to Savannah for 3 days early next month for a hunt for my new book. Various pieces in local papers and blogs, blah blah blah. Trish finished the recipes for the cooking chapter of the first book, which was a big help. No sooner had I sent it off when my editor emailed me another revised copy of the manuscript with 5 million fucking notes and questions for another round of revisions THAT IS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY. The questions being asked are retarded and pointless. I have to wonder if they are deliberately trying to be such a pain in the ass that I ignore them and forfeit the rest of my advance. So close to sending out the new book. Fuck, so close. All of this other shit erupted today and took time away from these tiny little things I need to do to send it out. Nobody else has read the sample chapters of the new book yet. I don't really have anyone whom I can show it to who would give me an unbiased opinion. Erin disappeared from the face of the Earth. These are beyond just 'sample chapters.' I mean, I have poured every ounce of my life into this project for months. I've just about bankrupted myself and literally risked death to do some of the things I've written about. Sending this off to my agent will be a major moment in my life. Tomorrow morning I have a meeting with someone at a non-profit grant-making foundation about getting a grant for my broader l1onfish project. That is potentially a big deal. I have all of these emails from random people that I haven't really looked at yet. And probably won't have time to respond to. Getting fan mail is weird. Being this person that I have to be every day is weird. And it isn't easy. I have to be this larger-than-life guy now. I have to be this person who is in constant motion and offering constant ideas and solutions and constantly writing new material and figuring out what the next big project is going to be, and doing interviews and all of this shit. This doesn't get me laid and it doesn't pay very well. Being famous opens some doors now and then but mostly it doesn't seem to do a lot of good to me personally. To the environmental causes that I have devoted myself, I'd like to think its helping. And yes, I think I'm famous now. People tell me that I am. I'm not a household name but everywhere I have gone in the world there has been someone in the room who has heard of me. I can't relax. I don't even know how any more. I am in a state of constant motion and anxiety and work. 9:38 p.m. - 2011-01-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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