crowdog66

Okey-dokey, here we go-key.

I'm on the last six pages of the third Hardy Boys graphic novel -- or to be more precise, the six-page preview of #4 to be published along with it. This afternoon I went over the pages (which my husband George laid detailed flats on, bless him) and laid in true colors. However, this IS the first day of my period, and by the time I'd finished I was stressed, shaky, and generally miserable.

So I laid down for four hours, and just got up about an hour ago. A couple of sandwiches and a cup of coffee later, I'm bringing myself to face the project again, this time with a view to finishing it before I go to sleep again.

Why am I so frightened by the last, tiny stretch of a 90-page project? Partly because the penciller and inker sent in a color sample of one of the pages in question to my editor, who in turn passed it on to me -- which blew a big fat hole in my self-confidence. (You might remember the email and my response to it, which I posted in my LJ). Usually I trust my judgement on this book, but right now I'm spinning out, terrified of touching it.

What can I do to counteract this emotional state? First, I can remind myself that I'm only getting $40 US a page for this job -- at that rate, they're lucky they're getting color at all, much less thoughtful and harmonious color. Second, I can remember that Jim, the editor, sent me an email just before San Diego telling me that I'm doing a "SPECTACULAR" (his exact word including caps lock) job on the project. Third, I can break the task down into simple steps: open a page, pick an area, and start modelling the figures. If I do something "wrong", I can always go back and change it. In the end, that's the only thing that really works against this kind of professional paralysis.

At least the new air conditioner, which we unpacked on Friday, is ticking along like a trooper and pumping out nice, cold air with nary a sign of a leakage. Score!

*kicks uterus* Damned hormones.

On the other hand, I had a wonderful mid-afternoon today, going out with Robin (a local Wiccan) for lunch and a tour of Radiance Gifts & Treasures, where I picked up an inch-long splash-form tektite (a piece of glass formed when a meteorite strikes the Earth), a pack of charcoals for my censer, a seven-inch tall Goddess tealight holder which will serve quite nicely as an altar statue of the Green Goddess, and most importantly, a black hematite ring, the essential symbol of my coming initiation into the Black Ring line of Wicca, and which I'll need come August 28th for my initiation rite.

Radiance also had one item, tucked away on a lower shelf, that made me squeal with delight when I saw it: a pentacle clock! The one item I thought I'd never see Wiccan-ized... though it makes perfect sense to me now.

Oh, and at lunch, which we took on an outside patio, I did my good deed for the week: going into the Starbucks next door and asking for a dish of water for the local flock of sparrows, which was hanging around waiting for crumbs from our sandwiches and panting (poor little things) because of the heat. Fortunately eastpath was on duty and gave me a nice deep dog-dish full of cool water with a wide brim, perfect for birds to perch on the edge of. There were a couple of puddles in the parking lot, but both were under cars and probably contaminated with oil or gasoline -- and today's temperatures hit 28 degrees Celcius, which is pleasant for neither man nor beast. Thanks again, Eastpath! :-)