My interview with Zoran Živković is now up at Strange Horizons; it's the magazine's fourth anniversary today, and it's a really fantastic issue. Go read the interview, then buy a copy of The Fourth Circle or The Book/The Writer.

Saturday, Janet and I headed over to the NC Zoo in Asheboro with Andreas and Luna Black, and spent pretty much the whole day there. To my amazement, we walked nearly the entire park, almost five miles worth of zoo. I didn't take my camera this time, but the other three did and got some great shots.

I was extremely happy this time to be able to stay inside the Sonoran Desert exhibit without it affecting me; last time I went, shortly after it opened, they hadn't quite gotten the humidity levels right yet, because after being in there for about ten seconds, all the moisture in my eyes evaporated, and I had to run outside again. This was a big deal because the Sonoran Desert is the location of the ocelots, which are probably my all-time favorite animal. This time, I saw only one ocelot in the enclosure, and she was recovering from an injury to her right front paw. Here she is, flashing the crowd:

That night, I slept like the dead. Not even the phone could wake me up (some jerk claiming to have found Janet's handbag after we'd already gotten it back). Yesterday, I didn't do much of anything except some homework. We went to the farmer's market at one point and got some okra, potatoes, squash and onion. The free samples of peach and grape were a bit tart, making me wonder if they're past the season now.

I need to get working on some fiction soon, but I'm reluctant to start for some reason; I just don't have much energy at all right now. Got a recent five-hour rejection from Lenox Avenue, and have been feeling self-conscious about my ability as a writer lately. Sometimes, it seems like the people around me are so much smarter and more talented than me, that there's no point in me being a writer, that people are saying what I want to say much better than I ever could. I know these are the insecurites that any artist faces from time to time, and it doesn't help that a story of mine got ripped apart in my fiction workshop last week. It's just something I'll have to push through, but man does it suck right now.

Anyway, enough self-pity. I'll be going to the university library sometime today to do some research for a class, then we'll have a Labor Day cookout over at my parents' in Fuquay. I know this is a day of rest, but I got too much to do.

Now Reading:
The Rose in Twelve Petals & Other Stories by Theodora Goss

Stories Out to Publishers:
7

Books Read This Year:
47

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
25