Ah man, what a day. It's not every day you get to revamp your novel once again, get a collaborative story accepted for publication, and dance with your nieces (ages 5 and 2) to some Neil Diamond.

So I'm trying to wind down and talk about the various other things going on in addition to the big-time acceptance to ASIMOV'S. I spent the morning flinging myself back into the SF novel, and I found out how to pull it all together. So I wrote a bunch more here and there about my aliens and their crash-landed ships, and it's all falling into place. I just have to complete the outline tomorrow and I can send it out to the agent who requested the first 75 pages and outline. Woo-hoo!

I had a good time hanging out with the fam tonight for my birthday, and my parents got me a kick-ass framed map of the Outer Banks, aka "The Graveyard of the Atlantic" -- it marks all the shipwrecks up and down the coast since the wrecks were recorded. It beautiful, and will look great on my office wall. I can't get over the German U-boat sunk in the waters east of Kill Devil Hills. (I also got to see a Durham Bulls game last night with Lizzie and our friend Clarke, and got a charcoal grill along with the much-needed Grilling for Dummies book, AND a coupon for an hour and a half massage at a local spa, all from my lovely wife. Plus I got to listen to Neil Diamond and dance with my nieces. How cool is that for turning 33?)

Two other things I wanted to note -- first, my SF Writing class for the Young Writers Workshop at NC State is coming together nicely, and I'm really looking forward to it. I have my syllabus pretty much in place, and I have two different classes -- a class of 4th and 5th graders and a class of 6th through 8th graders. My main goal is to show young writers that writing SF/F is just as important as other genres, but SF/F is more FUN because we get our own toolbox to play with in addition to the regular toolbox for "normal" fiction writers. SF/F writers get to use magic, travel to space, and talk to aliens. What could be more cool?

And finally, I've been trying to get caught up on the various Clarion journals for this summer's workshops. Brings back the memories from '96, back when I was a young lad, muddling my way through stories about my aliens and their crash-landed ships... wait a minute! What am I saying? Have I made no progress at all these past 7 years???

Good night!

Now Playing:
"Slow Motion Daydream," Everclear

Now Reading:
Memory and Dream, Charles de Lint; Rabit Transit II, Say...Was That a Kiss?

Stories out to Publishers:
14

Today's Words:
1,000

Words for '03:
92,000

Today's Quote:
After rocketing over washerboard-like gravel roads and zipping through rural intersections without stopping, Petersheim skidded the ten-cylinder sedan to a halt outside the fenced-off site of the fallen ship from space. Joshua let go of the dashboard and peered through the tinted windshield. The bumper of the big car was less than two feet away from a man stretched across the road wearing a rubber Creature from the Black Lagoon mask with glowing red eyes, his thin arms crossed over his chest like a corpse at a wake. He was wearing a bath robe and ski boots. Three dozen other similarly dressed people carrying banners that read “Free the Aliens!” or “Let Them Out or Let Us IN!” or other such messages. The masked crowd pushed up to the sedan, all of them reaching the index fingers of their right hand toward the vehicle without touching it.

“Hold on,” Petersheim said, putting his hand to his cheek mike. He whispered something, and within seconds three helmeted soldiers wearing battle armor emerged from a gap in the chain-link gate. The first soldier pulled the Black Lagoon man out of the way, while the other two used Tazers to push the strangely-silent, pointing crowd back.

“ET freaks,” Petersheim said, shaking his head and giving Joshua an incredulous smile. “Phone home, and all that, y’know, padre?”