Stacy Horn

I am so out of sorts I gave Buddy his chemo medication on the wrong day. I gave it to him this morning thinking it was Wednesday. I’m pretty sure it won’t kill him, it’s the mildest of mild chemotherapies and very slow acting.

But the book is handed in and you’d think I’d be all “It’s Miller time!” but instead I’ve been bursting into tears about every little thing. My accountant emailed me a question, I cried. I can’t make up my mind about what I want to do at the moment, I cried. I don’t have any decent pictures to post … tears.

I went up to the roof, cried at the thought of someone locking the door behind me, not knowing someone was up there and then I’d be locked out on the roof in the cold.

So here are three views from my roof, practically live, haven been taken just moments ago. This is looking west, that’s the Hudson River in the distance, and New Jersey beyond that.

You’ve all seen this view from my roof before, but this is looking uptown, or north. My camera is tilting ever so slightly I see. Oh well. I guess I better cry.

A very pastel looking view of downtown.

Two more days of writing and I’m human again. I’m so happy knowing how elated I’m going to feel Tuesday night. It will be the fifth time I’ve felt it. Part terror, mostly jubilation. It’s not like I’m technically done. My editor will have edits, the copy editor will have even more.

I also have to go through and fact-check. Publishers used to do this, but now authors are expected to fact-check their own books. No matter how careful you are as you go along, you make mistakes. You type in dates incorrectly, flip places (ie “he was born in France and died in Spain,” when it was the other way around) you mess up transcribing quotes, or you misunderstand what someone was explaining in an interview and you don’t represent them correctly. It’s endless the kinds of mistakes you might have made and it’s time consuming finding them.

I love fact-checking other people’s books, LOVE it. I’m also great at it. It’s fun for me so I’m very thorough. I would happily do it for a living. But fact-checking your own is kinda tedious.

I think I might have posted a picture of this restaurant before, Redfarm. It’s fairly new but it already has an excellent reputation. It’s expensive though, so I’ve never eaten there. It’s sits above where I do my laundry. If the weather is nice I sit under that tree there and read. I don’t know why, but I enjoy the contrast of that, my well-to-do neighbors having a fancy dinner above the machines where my laundry is going round and round. I don’t begrudge them at all! Sitting under that tree reading is such a happy, peaceful, relaxed thing to do it makes me look forward to doing the laundry. It’s just funny.

There is just too much good tv to watch. They keep saying the internet is killing publishing, but maybe it’s more that tv came of age, or a combination of the two.

But now there is too much for me to keep up with and I’ve started letting tv shows go. It’s weirdly painful. I do develop affection for these characters. I’m having a hard time letting go of White Collar for instance, because I adore all four of the main characters, Pete and Neal, Elizabeth and Mozzie.

So far I’ve deleted The Walking Dead (disappointing use of my beloved zombies), The Firm, and A Gifted Man.

I am thrilled, by the way, that American Idol is finally letting us see more of group night. I have always loved the snippets they used to show and was dying, dying, DYING to see more group routines, and the whole routines, and finally they are giving us that.

These pictures taken at the Salmagundi Club, where the book party for New York Diaries was held. How the 1% lives.

I’ve made a ton of changes to the book, I wrote the last chapter, and this is what I have to do by Tuesday:

– Write a section describing singing at the wedding of two choir members.
– Go back through the whole thing and tinker. Do the memoir sections have a nice arc? Is there anything I do to make the people I write about more vivid?
– Make the last chapter as good as I can possibly make it. This is without question the hardest part about writing books, ending them.

I read the last chapter of my last memoir, Waiting For My Cats To Die, and I was very dismayed to see that I am still the exact same person! The wisdom I’ve gained in three years can be summed up in three words (which I’m not going to give here because then no one will buy my book!). That’s it! I happen to think they are very crucial three words so I’m glad to have figured them out, but still. I’m pretty sure I can count on myself to continue to make the same mistakes I’ve been making all along. Oh. I’m putting that in the book.

I’ve been so busy I haven’t been taking pictures! I snapped this yesterday in the meat market when I was out running errands. It’s been rainy and dreary.

I am postponing Valentine’s Day, which I’m also temporarily renaming Pamper Yourself Day since I don’t currently have a boyfriend. I’m going to celebrate it on February 22nd because for the next week I’ll be writing furiously in order to hand in my book on February 21st.

Hence, National Pamper Yourself Day on the 22nd. Yes, I decided mid-post to make this a national holiday. Next Wednesday everyone in the nation must take the day off if possible, and if not, pause at some point on the 22nd and do something nice for yourself.

I’m going to: buy myself flowers, get a pedicure, watch all the tv shows I’ve saved up, take a bath with a Lush bath bomb and read magazines, eat particularly delicious food including one of those Ciao Bella key lime ice cream sandwich things, and maybe I’ll squeeze in a movie.

But today I will shower my love on the cats. I’m showering love on Finney too, but he bit me when I tried to take a picture of it. Don’t forget now! It’s Pet a Cat Day. If you don’t have a cat go out and find one and pet it.