Back home now, and tomorrow is packed with stuff - not least being my Dad's birthday. Somewhere in between briefing an accountant's assistant on doing my receipts in preparation for tax returns (an appointment in the morning) and stuff to do with insurance (appointment in the afternoon) I have to deal with people fixing stuff up in my garden and planting a bunch of new stuff out where they'll be clearing out the blackberry thicket, and I have to call in a competent electrician to sort out the mess that a previous one made and the possibility that the said previous one screwed up far more than he realised. WHich, if it is the case, I am going to be really REALLY mad about.
Then I really have to start writing this next novel. LIke, tomorrow. Over the weekend. Next week. I mean, NOW.
I have World Fantasy Con in less than two weeks, but that's the last big event of the year (I have a signing on November 13, but that's just a couple of hours on one day and it's local so I don't have to actually TRAVEL anywhere) and the new YA has to be done pretty damn soon because I"m working on the synopsis of the next Big THing which ALSO has to be done next week and has to be mailed off to the editor(s) who are expecting it...
Busy. Busy. Busy. And I wish to God that at least I could trust the wiring of my own house and not have to flinch every time I plug something in.