First day of Flytrap submissions. I received 21 stories, of which I accepted one; put five I liked aside for further consideration; and rejected the rest.

Do not expect such detailed accounting, or such swift response times, for the whole reading period! But I like to start out being on top of things. This is more submissions than I've received on any opening day before, and of a generally higher caliber. Bodes well for issue #4.

I feel there should be more to report, but there isn't, really. Heather and I have been watching Jeeves and Wooster, which is entertaining. I've been reading Avram Davidson's Limekiller, a collection so excellent that it has convinced me I should emulate Davidson and be even more discursive, rambling, and roundabout in my own fiction. (That distant scream you hear in the background is Heather, who makes a strong case that my fiction tends toward the rambly and self-indulgent already; to which I say, "Yes! More of the same, but more so!") Work is busy, which makes the days go by quickly. The evenings go quickly too. I haven't written any fiction since Monday night. I owe people critiques. I still have four or five stories I need to send to Fictionwise. I should feel vaguely harried, but I don't, really. I'll get everything done.

This weekend, Heather and I are going to Santa Cruz for two days of ambling around downtown, playing cards with my best friends, soaking in a hot tub, drinking mocha chai, eating good food, and generally relaxing in the fading light of summer's end. Life is good, and is expected to get even better.