What a day. I overslept, didn't get any writing done until late, late tonight, and came nowhere near to meeting my writing goal. Yeehaw, Novel Dare, Day One!

Oh well, what can you do? That's been my mantra lately, what with the chaos of both my job and Elizabeth's job. At least she got her boards back at last (she passed! as if she needed to be worried!). It's been hectic.

Spent a good chunk of the day working on my Writing Short Speculative Fiction syllabus for CourseBridge, in case they're interested in me teaching an online course for them. Man, that stuff takes FOREVER to write. I added over 6 pages, single-spaced to my lessons. Can I use some of that on my novel dare wordage? No, didn't think so.

I also got a call from a local community college about teaching English for them in the Spring, full-time. They actually want me to finish out the Fall semester for a teacher who isn't doing well. Yikes. Not sure I want to walk into that situation. But hey, that adds to chaos of my life this past week or 2... Never a dull moment.

Oh, and I think I may have busted the screen of our "good" laptop tonight, so I was forced to use my ancient laptop with Windows 3.1 on it. Fun!

At least I got to chat with Jay about the finishing touches for our collab, and it should be ready to submit soon. New title: "Devil on the Wind." Yes, we know there will be fart jokes.

And finally, my Novel output -- barely 200 words. I'm rounding up, okay? Still putting together the scene where the gang all meet at the mother ship. Cue the "Close Encounters" chords, please... Later!

Now Playing:
"Charlotte, NC," Pearl Jam

Now Reading:
Slow Dancing Through Time, Gardner Dozois

Stories out to Publishers:
15

Today's Words:
200

Words for '03:
123,200

Today's Quote:
The lower sections of the ship were hidden behind a smooth gray wall over fifteen feet high, and a dozen olive-drab tents and Humvees sat in front of the wall. As Skin watched, half a dozen soldiers with pulse guns stepped out of a tent and took up position in front of three of the trucks.

Incongruously, a tiny chapel sat between the ship and the Student Union, an island of calm next to the chaotic wreckage of the mammoth, broken-down ship.

"Jesus H, that's a big sucker," Ally said.

"Yeah," Skin said, his gaze caught by the ship.

"Let's go, Tim." Shermie's voice was soft, but clear in spite of the rumbling of the truck's engine. Something in it made Tim release the pressure of his foot on the break. They began to slowly roll down the snow-dusted hill, toward the ship and the military personnel in front of it who were now watching them with cautious suspicion.