Stephanie Gayle

Okay, so after much back and forth with the powers that be at my publishing house, the title of my forthcoming book has been decided. It is: MY SUMMER OF SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT. The winner of the title suggestions is my mother. Yup. Mom said, "How about Southern Discomfort?" but searches revealed several books by this title, so I tweaked it. Still, the idea was Mom's and she wins a prize. I'll ask her what she wants when I visit her this weekend. I hope it isn't something crazy like finding wives for my brothers or making sure my stubborn sister rests during the final months of her pregnancy. I should emphasize that she should ask for something I can deliver.

Now that the title is out of the way, we can worry about cover art!

Posted by Stephanie at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yesterday I fractured my toe, the fourth one on my left foot, in case you're interested. How? By stubbing it (slamming it) into the metal leg of a coffee table. Ow. This was the same toe I had stubbed twice the previous weekend. Wait! Wait! Didn't I just throw my back out mere weeks ago? Why yes, yes I did. Welcome to my world. As my neighbor, Mrs. Forrand, used to say of me, "Stephanie, you are just an accident looking for a place to happen." At the time, I thought that was sort of a mean thing to say to a scabby-kneed kid, but well, when you're right, you're right, and I am afraid Mrs. Forrand was right.

The current penalty for my klutziness is an open toed, velcro boot I must wear for two damn weeks. It does stablize my toe but it also slows me down and makes stairs a chore to walk (up or down). Later today I find out from the radiologist whether I have a displaced fracture or just regular type. Place your bets now!

Update: It's not displaced. Just a regular old avulsion fracture.
The good news is I have earned the terrific nickname "bootylicious" because of my ever present velcro boot. Good times.

Posted by Stephanie at 09:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Saturday morning I awoke early to attend a writerly event at Grub Street. Before I left the house my back siezed up as if Satan's fiery fingernails had impaled themselves into my flesh and I very nearly screamed many words of four letters. After it became clear that this monumental pain was not going away, I went to Medical where a fresh-faced doctor told me I had pulled my psoas muscle, and it might take 2-3 weeks to heal. He gave me not nearly enough muscle relaxants and sent me to hobble like a troll out the door.

Since then I have been gradually getting straighter day by day. Today I can stand upright, just like a fully evolved human! But the back still hurts. That's the thing about injuries: they make you constantly aware of body parts you never think about because you take their functionality for granted. I can't wait until I can take my ability to stand upright, bend over and walk normally for granted again. Really. Limited mobility=boredom=cranky Stephanie. I was so cranky yesterday I wanted to asphyxiate myself. So tomorrow I'm shuffling my cranky self back to work where I can whine to multitudes. Sharing the pain. It's what jobs are for!

Posted by Stephanie at 04:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)