I have just spent a weekend consuming more sugar and chocolate than one human being should have in six months and I feel terrible. It's like I carb-loaded for the Iditarod and then went to take a nap. This is not good.
Last night, I pretty much put the manuscript for Surreal South, the anthology of bizarre Southern fiction and poetry that I'm editing with my husband, Pinckney, to bed. Manuscripts, story notes and bios are delivered, the publisher's putting checks in the mail,…
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