Diana Pharaoh Francis | Diana P. Francis | Diana Francis


Saturday, December 8th, 2012
sleighbells in the snow

Listening to Pandora’s Christmas music station. One of them.

I got to go do a training for my shindig event next week. It’s so cool. I hope people come. I can see everyone, they can see me, they can ask questions, hear me read, but most importantly, it’s like being in a face-to-face situation. What’s cool about this is that I’ve never been back east for a signing or reading, except for WFC a couple of times. This lets me meet some fans I otherwise wouldn’t get to. Including people from all of the world. It’s Global so anybody anywhere can come! It’s really really cool. So if you haven’t RSVPed, I hope you can come. It’s going to be so cool. And please, spread the word. Let’s pack the room!

The boy is still sleeping a lot. Poor guy. He was doing some homework this morning and fell asleep face down twice on his book before he consented to go back to bed. I have to admit, it was pretty funny. Despite the fact that there’s no fever or swelling of lymph nodes, I really think it must be mono. I don’t know how he’s going to go to school next week. I keep thinking maybe he can go in for a class or two like music and art–stuff he can’t make up so well–and then continue getting the rest of his homework. Girlie is a lot better. The inhaler is doing the trick for her lungs and she’s not sleeping nearly as much as she was. So she’s going to school Monday. Come hell or high water.

In the meantime, I’m grading papers. They are exactly what I would expect from this level in terms of writing ability, and they are working hard to make insights. Which means that I’m pretty pleased. I’m enjoying this group of students. It’s funny, all but one of them are not English majors and are taking this class as a Gen Ed. And they seem to really be internalizing the things we’re talking about. I”m really trying hard to reiterate, repeat, and return to ideas, so that they sink in, and that appears to be working too.

We had snow last night. A dusting. I still don’t want it. I don’t want to sweep/shovel snow. But finally our wood is getting delivered today, so we can go back to having fires. That will be very very nice.

I started reading Joyce Carol Oates’ Zombie, which is a really creepy novel told from the point of view of a psychopath interested in creating his own sex slave zombie who will do whatever he wants. And he’s pretty horrifying. Short novel, and I’m looking forward to something lighter next. I should add that it was loaned to me by a colleague in Psychology who is teaching a Serial Killer class across the hall. Oh, I’d love to take that class.

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