One of the side effects of writerly obsession with finishing the book, the summer convention season, and losing a handful of receipts is that the checkbook balance gets to a fine point of not particularly resembling the bank balannce. ut I think I have it licked, although I did look at one mysterious number and go "That looks like a grocery bill. I dub thee.... grocery bill!" (Like the old Far Side cartoon with the physicists looking at an equation on a blackboard with the notation "at this point, a miracle occurs."
But it's done now. Yay!
In other news, I'm back on the other side of the slushpile as of today. I'll be reading for Ideomancer; it's only logical. They've been calling me an id(i/e)ot for years...
In videogame news, I bought Sim-Illya a chessboard, and now I can't get him to do anything else with his time. Also, he keeps passing out on the couch rather than going to sleep in his bed. Well, that was predictable.
Nomail. *Performs mailbox voodoo, and gets the editor-pokin' stick just in case*
I have gotten a couple of interesting anthology nibbles lately, but nothing definite yet. I dreamed of zombie wolves last night. And alas, hubbletelescope.
And now it is one o'clock, and once I heat up some coffee, I'm going to write the next scene in One-Eyed Jack, wherein Jackie goes to have a word or two with some of the strange people who've started moving in on his turf.