Hey there! Today was a most glorious day. I got to sleep in a bit, got to write a whole lot, and even went and got a workout in, after so many months away from the Y. The goal is to lose 15 lbs. by the end of December. When you're a Large Fellow, this is pretty easy. That way when the new year starts, I'll have a good bit of momentum going so I can keep shedding weight until I'm back to my goal of 215 (hey, I'm big-boned, okay???).

Anyhoo, about the writing. I wrote the entire draft of a short story today! It was awesome! I can't say too much about the story yet (hence the "stealth mode" of my entry title), but it's been a blast to write. It all just came to me, and I wrote it FAST. I haven't done that in a long, long time, and the last time I jammed so hard and fast on a story was working on "Natural Order" at the Writers of the Future workshop, and we all know what happened to that one.

Speaking of, special thanks to Jon for sending me the SF Chronicle's review of that story -- see the quote on my excerpt page. I plan on updating all of my story excerpt pages in the next few weeks, getting everything up to speed and looking purty.

I have a couple other stories to finish up revising this week, and there's still the cockroach story to work on, and then it's Wannoshay time -- got 5 chapters to go there. I'm still excited about it, and looking forward to figuring out how that novel will end. It's all in my head now, which is more than I could have said a week ago.

Anyway, just wanted to say howdy. I'm off to drink eggnog with Elizabeth and watch the "Saturday Night Live" xmas special. Oh, and if you're interested, I'm trying to hit 175,000 words for the year, so following my wordage below. I've already passed 140,000 words for the year of 2002. Pretty wild. Later!

Now Playing:
"Touch," Sarah MacLachlan

Now Reading:
Bag of Bones, Stephen King; The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl, Tim Pratt

Stories out to Publishers:
18

Today's Words:
3,100

2002 Words:
142,500

Today's Quote:
“Feh,” Wilwart said as his slightly crossed eyes came across the first Royal Addition. He bit his lip and cast a nervous look around -- it was not wise to speak poorly of the King’s Word. But this, Wilwart had to admit, was simply ridiculous.

Vacations from daily work for the Kingdom, the first Addition read, will no longer be tolerated. Either the Royal Worker (oh, how Wilwart hated that term, and how he longed to change the term to something deviant, like Royal Farter, or Royal Poopscooper; our Wilwart had quite a scatological mind, you see) will complete all of his work according to the Royal Timesheet, or find a temporary substitute worker, or the Royal Worker (Royal Dungscraper, Wilwart thought with a giggle) would not receive that month’s pay.