Good lord, it's way too nice outside for me to be sitting inside! Just three days ago we were getting about 4 inches of snow dumped on us, and today the snow's more or less gone and I'm heading outside without a coat on. Don't like the weather here in Raleigh? Wait five minutes. (Har de har har).

I'm about 85 pages into the revisions of the Blackbeard novel, and it's moving along nicely. I was hoping to get through the current chapter -- six -- and the next today, but Elizabeth and I got talking about all the stuff we want (need) to do to our house and yard this spring and summer, and I want to get outside and work on some of those tasks.

If you know me, you know how RARE such feelings are, so I'd better act on them immediately. I'd live in a cardboard box so long as I had something to write on and a good book to read. Hey, it's all about priorities, man.

But I did want to share a cool link with you -- SF Reader has their interview with me posted on their site. Man, I didn't know how long-winded I was (just compare my long-ass answers with those of the first-place winner!). Oh well. Read at your own risk. :)

Now I'm off to go slog around in our muddy back yard. Then it's the Tar Heel vs. State game tonight, followed by the Oscars. It's a busy life I lead, I admit it... Later!

Now Playing:
"Singles," The Smiths

Now Reading:
Carter Beats the Devil

Today's Quote:
Ella had a pretty good feeling that Mitch Thompson would never have imagined himself sitting out in the ocean in his anchored boat, alone, typing numbers into a laptop computer, while his diving client worked alone sixty feet underwater below him. But that was exactly what she'd had him doing for the past three hours, under her orders to take a break every forty-five minutes to tug on her tether and remind her to surface so she didn't get the bends. He had argued with her the whole trip out to the shipwreck site, but Ella wouldn't change her mind. She had told him that she needed him most up here, tracking the information she gave him.

What she didn't tell him was that she trying to get him out of her way. She was becoming more and more convinced that Mitch was responsible for the mishaps and probably even the weird things Ella had imagined seeing down there. His stories were infectious, and as far as her diving expedition was concerned, poisonous to her cause. So far this morning, she'd had no problems whatsoever, strengthening her case against Mitch diving with her.