I've been antsy. Holed up in my office, sucking down coffee as if my life depended on it, revising until I feel like my eyes are going to bleed from reading. Seriously, I've actually gotten dizzy a few times when standing up 'cause I've been staring at my computer screen too long.
I need a wee bit o' break from my manuscript H.A.L.F. before the final push to the glorious, amazing, blow the reader's mind ending. It's so close I can almost taste it. But I'm feeling tired. Sluggish even. I need reinvigorated.
I need a comic con.
Lucky for me, Tucson Comic Con is around the corner. Just three days in fact.
I'm feeling a *squee* coming on.
My blood starts pumping as soon as I begin stacking the boxes of books in the back o' my guy's SUV-ish pukeiferous (yeah, I just made up that word) green car, aka "The Pickle." By the time I wheel my cart to the 6 feet of table I'll call home for two days, I'm giddy.
Cons and festivals are like home to me. While there, I'm surrounded by things I love. Comic books, novels, art and the artists and writers that create them. And of course I also get to spend time chatting with people who also love these same things.
Two days of communing with the tribe. Doesn't get any better than that.
And come next Monday, I'm gonna kick that manuscript's ass!
