Unexpected sex scene. 500 words of boring heroics (!) cut, 1000 words of “um, what just happened?” written.

I’d do more, but I gotta sleep.

If you happen to read this,

Rose was born.

Child actress,

On the fifth day of the snow

Busy weekend taking care of the house and cooking meals. But I have many meals cooked now, and the sink is empty, and the litter is fresh, and the lawn is mowed, and it seems likely I might make some good headway on the bo…on the writing. (I’m not calling it a book until I have 40k words.)

I washed my revising mug today. My revising mug was the cup I drank tea from while I sat at my kitchen table, editing Firebird’s Wish. It was particularly dirty, but that is what baking soda is for.

Sleeeep.

Writing: Wheee!

In other news: I think I’m going to let my SFWA membership expire. It doesn’t seem like I use it for anything except getting a discount on my lark@sff.net account. Which is ridiculously overpriced to begin with. $8 a month? For email? Why am I paying this again?

Actually, that’s an excellent question I keep forgetting to answer. A lot of things are tied into that address. I should probably move them and then kill it.

It happened again.

Sleepy time! ::yawn::

Something…something got written.

I’m not going to say anything else.

We must be careful, lest the muse flit off to a nightclub again.