The fireworks barrage continues. For over a week, we've been kept prisoner by unending, massive fireworks exploding all around. Nika refuses to set off on walks at night. The explosions frighten her too much. We've been wondering if they will ever stop.

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I've been reading up about Alexander the Great and some of the legends surrounding him for my latest story. It's truly amazing how much he permeates myth across the world, with pretty much anyone who claims to be anyone in much of Asia claiming to be descended from his armies and a featuring role in the Koran. Not giving away yet which bits of the legends I'm going to be using, but there's an awful lot to choose from.

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Suffering from a minor stomach flu at the moment, which leaves me pretty listless. Walking more than a few dozen yards makes me exhausted. Funny how these things always turn up on the weekend.

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We had great fun at Starbucks last night, spoiling ourselves in celebration of Steph's story sale, a tradition we've quickly established whenever one of us makes a sale, and reading through the last issue of Locus, before returning it unbought to the shelves. It's the first time that Borders has stocked Locus for a while, and ironically this has been the first issue for equally long that we haven't particularly wanted to buy.

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It rained most of the day, that cold, low-cloud, autumn rain that works its fingers right into your bones. We've got the gas fire burning and the fake coals are glowing red. The curtains are drawn tight. Other than the fireworks, it's a quiet evening. Steph is working on her thesis. I've been reading my book ("Deadhouse Gates", by Steven Erikson). Nika is moaning because she wants more pasta and is bored, but her eyes are drifting shut. And I'm off to make some tea. Even a cold day can be wonderful.