30 March 2006
Eight years ago yesterday was the tornado. I kept hoping that the kiddo would be born yesterday, not just because I am pretty eager to become an auntie (you might have noticed) but also because then March 29 would mean something different, and better. On the other hand, now that I think it over, having a baby associated with a whirlwind of any kind is perhaps overkill. In many cases redundant and all that.
Mark and I have lost our baby-vs.-snow pool. We were both betting the kiddo would arrive before the last snow would leave our yard. We were wrong. It's supposed to be 60 today, and the snow has vanished overnight.
I finally finished writing "Water, Flesh, and Stone," which confirms that I am not over the dreaded disease YATLSS (Yet Another Tam Lin Story Syndrome). And I still have The True Tale of Carter Hall ahead of me, not behind. Oof.
Some months ago, I made a list of eight short stories I'd like to finish soon. Of them, I've finished five. All five are fantasy. The other three are SF. Yah. I'm hoping to get some solid work on one of the other three soon, but so far the numbers do not lie. This is frustrating. I want to write more SF. Unfortunately, I seem to want to write more SF in theory and more fantasy in practice. The latest Artist's Challenge piece I got from Elise is almost certainly SFnal, so that's something. How much, we shall see. But something.
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