Hey. I think I'm getting the hang of this drafting stuff. You just sit your ass down in the designated seating device and plug away until you meet the designated wordage. And if you exceed the daily wordage, that's a bonus!

It helps, of course, to have a really detailed outline, which I do, thankfully. The story is moving along quite nicely, and I'm done with the tricking diving scenes for a while (huge thanks to Jenn and her friends for their PRICELESS diving info).

So now I get to start the exploration of Ocracoke Island and the surrounding areas as Mitch and Ella try to solve a murder. Rockin'!

I've also been doing a shitload of revising on various stories, and I mailed off three subs this morning, and one more tonight. The rejections, they are a-rollin' in! And I still have that revision to work on -- I'm thinking about that one in my back-brain, getting all the details right.

And finally, my co-writer Aaron just sent me notes on the "Unplugged" adaptation, now being called "The Last Jack," and we're THIS close to being ready to send that out to the SlamFi contest.

Man, it's been crazy. And I love it. The busier I am, the better. But now I'd better go see if my wife still recognizes me... Later!

Now Playing:
"Global Underground," Global Underground

Now Reading:
Weird Tales, SCI FICTION

Stories out to Publishers:
19

Today's Words:
1,800

Words for '03:
49,800

Today's Quote:
“I thought the bastard would have approved of my stern discipline with the girl,” he continued, as if they were old friends chatting in a park. “But damned Teach took my ship away from me once again after seeing the drowned girl in my hold. And so he imprisoned me, on the Queen Anne. I was never happier than when I saw his head removed from his shoulders that day in November.”

Ella’s left foot was going numb from the grip and icy touch of the creature who may or may not have been the ghost of Stede Bonnet. And the ghost was starting to rise up toward her. Ella didn’t want to see the man’s staring eyes any closer than she already was, so she forced her arms to move to her BCD once again, even as she willed both legs to prepare to kick harder than they’d ever kicked before.

“Come stay with me down here,” Bonnet’s ghost said, floating closer. “Stay--”