I don't know what I'd do if they ever figured out I can sneak onto Tederick.com through the One Zone. Cry a lot, probably. I don't use it often, but there's something strangely reassuring in knowing my domain is immune to the Zone's security measures. Like being Spider-Man.

The thing about my drafting process is (and this will come as no surprise to anyone who's ever heard me, y'know, talk) is my stunning capacity to overwrite. So the process of revising the first five issues of Snapdragon (happening even now!) is really just one of pulling a whole bunch of extraneous lines and bits of business and even whole panels and pages clean out of the comic. I'm really one for saying something three times when it only needs to be said once. But it does mean I get to work lovely new ideas into the stew once the page count has been loosened up somewhat. This might come in handy on Terra.

I've had almost no time for writing for the last little while; feels like I've had almost no time for anything. This week was pretty damned rough, workwise. As advertised, January and February will be stunningly, stupidly busy - eight solid weeks of block-booked meetings (and sometimes double- and even triple-booked), an endless chain of tightly-wound deliverables, and two major projects that I am personally getting out the door, along with the half-dozen others I have my paint-stained fingers all mucked up in. It's gonna be exhausting, and my mood has not been terrific on the subject. It's just so damned dim and shady these days, I haven't been to yoga in a month, and I'm seriously contemplating joining a gym. Who the fuck am I?

Off-hours, however, remain tip-top. Last night me and Sarafina went to see The Savages, but before the movie had even started we decided we didn't really want to see The Savages. So we left. I'm quite happy about that; we went and had sushi and talked about ideas, and the plan change also later gave opportunity to conquer Superbad at long last. It was very pretty and otherwise not at all worthy of six separate attempts to see it (of course). Still, can't say fairer than watching movies in the dead of night with the girl. It does a spectacular job of disconnecting my mind from the web of intrigue that is my Outlook calendar.

Twelve pages of revision left, then Fight Club.