So close to finished with the draft. So close.
Time to get obsessed with it, so I can get 'er done.
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
--Shakespeare, Cymbeline 4.2
In other news, I have cover flats for Undertow (gorgeous); got paid for various things over the weekend, so the cat and I are fed for the next sixth months (yes, writers learn to budget!); and just heard that Carnival made the Locus supplemental best seller list at #14 for January. Also, the cat is glad to have her monkey back. One thing about bringing her to Mom's house when I am away: she's so happy to come home that she forgets to throw fits at me for the next week over abandoning her.
Tomorrow I need to do a great deal of bill paying and banking behavior.
Various blog reviews, and one, ahem, from someplace else.
The Pig War on B&I, briefly and appreciatively.
And then there's a review of Carnival at the Washington Post, by none other than our very own Gwenda Bond. Who also reviews
I feel loved.
Best line of Boskone? Alexander Jablokov, who, from the audience of the American Fantasy panel, noted that while persons from other parts of the US may write comedies of manners, New Englanders write comedies of ethics.
Which is, of course, exactly what this New Englander does.
I feel taxonomified.
And now, 3 pages, or bust.