Bah.
258 words on The Stratford Man today, most of which I like: it was just poking, because I'm officially on vacation while I do some research. And about 1750 on the YA thing, which is rapidly nearing draft status.
I am currently thinking the secret of YA is all in the exposition. It has to be transparent, fast, and interesting. Of course, this is probably the hardest thing in all of fiction to manage.
But I could be wrong.