February 7th, 2007


Story sold

"The American Dead" as a reprint to the next edition of Best New Fantasy, ed. Sean Wallace, Prime Books. That story is also in the Locus poll, and in the upcoming The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year, ed. Jonathan Strahan, Prime Books, so apparently it has some legs. I'm quite pleased.

Another quiet morning on the prairie

Woke up early from nondescript dreams. Did some marketing and business stuff anent the writing. Wrote a few letters, had a small political debate via email which I'll expand upon later when I have time, time now to hie me and my little joke to the office.

Y'all play nice. I'm at the Omaha Beach Party tonight, I'll check in here as I can.

Politics, wit and erudition

...or maybe not. Omaha Beach Party tonight. We usually invade Zio's on Thursday. I'm telling you, we should switch to Wednesday. It was deader than a Baptist Church on Sadie Hawkins Day. Or maybe that was the 12 degree weather. I dunno. When it begins to snow carbon dioxide, I'll worry. blzblack was in attendance, as were many of the usual suspects. For some reason the puns and smackdowns were flying fast and furious. GS won the evening with a somewhat unprintable smack he laid on me which unglued the entire table. (And we discovered the entrance to Narnia in the men's room!)

I owe posts amplifying my recent rant on economic disparity, thanks to a fruitful email exchange, and another one on the death of science fiction, part 2,786, thanks to a different email exchange. Much-needed marketing kung and some personal correspondence have delayed my ability to address these topics this evening. Tomorrow night I'm off to a basketball game (really), so I doubt I'll be much more verbose then.

Meanwhile the silent halls of sleep beckon me in the voices of the future. 'Night y'all.