Hey, it's snowing here! We rarely get much snow here in Raleigh, NC, but it's been falling almost all morning. Actually, it's been coming down slow and steady ever since Elizabeth left for work. Hope I don't have to drive over and get her -- I don't trust these Southerners when it comes to driving in snow, and I'd say we've gotten over an inch, maybe two already.

I like the sound of snow. You can just barely hear it falling, if you stop and listen long enough. Whit the Wonder Pup wasn't too crazy 'bout it when I walked him this morning, though -- he kept shaking his head hard enough to rattle his Wonder Pup brain, trying to keep the white stuff out of his ears.

Me, I'm still at home, working away at the novel, trying to get as much revising done as I can before my "sabbatical" ends and I return to the ol' work force (and just in time, as our funds have run quite looow).

I owe huge thanks to the most excellent writers and critiquers SarahP and Jenn for their wonderful comments on the opening chapters of Last of the Hand. Jenn solved my "prologue problem" while SarahP had some excellent stylistic and pacing suggestions. You ladies rock! Thanks so much.

I've been working on various incarnations of this story for over a decade now, and while I know it may never be a classic, it's a fun story, with a cool cast of characters.

And so, I'd better get back to it. I'm just amazed that the snow is still coming down. The city will be shut down soon. Later!

P.S. The reference to the Cloud Engines is to the devious machine used by my villain in "LotH" -- he's rigged up a way to keep the city of Chicago in winter for most of the year, so everyone has seasonal affective disorder, and they're all so depressed that they don't notice how bad things are, thanks to his nefarious plottings. Heh.

Now Playing: "In Time," REM

Now Reading: Harry Potter 4, JK Rowling

Today's Quote:
A burnt odor tickled Archie's nose. He tried to halt the sparks and the cans, but before he could, he sneezed. A flurry of more blue sparks shot out of his fingers, and he flew back, away from the dumpster. With a thump, he landed on his rear end, breathless and hatless.

After a stunned few seconds, Archie shook his shaggy head and looked up. He felt tired, as if he'd already spent the day searching for cans. Then he saw that he was surrounded by empty soda and beer cans.

The light of the sparks that had come from his fingers had left a sense of familiarity in his reeling head, as if a memory was trying to shake itself loose. He thought he saw a row of massive stones jutting up from the ground like brown teeth.