F me, it's hot. We do housecleaning on Saturdays, and lugging the recycling and garbage down the back stairs is kinda nightmarish, a deathvalley hellslog. So it's a good day to drink rum and orange juice and pineapple juice with ice (which I'm doing right now!) and to go see a big stupid summer action movie in an air-conditioned theater during the hottest part of the day (so we're going at 2:30 to see War of the Worlds). We'll grocery shop in the evening, when it cools off a little, so lugging groceries up the front stairs (even higher than the back stairs) won't be so awful. Such is our plan. I've spent the morning being fairly diligent -- catching up on almost all my e-mail, updating my list of stories read for the Nebula jury, making Nebula recommendations (I always forget to do 'em individually, so once or twice a year I do a big submission of several stories), balancing my checkbook, making an effort to chase down the last addresses we need for wedding invites, etc. and so on.

I'm getting excited about my bachelor party. There's a tentative date for it, and I think my indomitable, inimitable, incredible best man Scott is going to do something good for me. He's a great organizer, and a great friend, and I know I'm in good hands. I don't have a lot of close friends -- I'm an antisocial bastard, in truth -- and I hope they can all make it to the party. (Well, I know Nick can't, because he'll be in the wilds of Vermont by then, being stalked by lovecraftian winged aliens and whatnot.)

I'm reading Peeps by Scott Westerfeld. (When I first heard about this book I suspected he'd read one of my favorite non-fiction books, Parasite Rex by Carl Zimmer, and lo, he cites that book in his acknowledgements as an indispensable reference tool. I should do a book that uses some of the parasitology info I've learned over the years. But not one about vampires, obviously, because Westerfeld has already done it quite well.)

I’m looking forward to this coming week. Things at work should be relatively mellow -- I've got to edit interviews by Rudy Rucker and Damien Broderick, who both have interesting stuff to say. Nobody major has died yet, so the obituary situation isn't too depressing, like it was last month. We don't go to press for nearly a month, so it's the most relaxing time at A Certain Magazine. Oh, and I got promoted to editor as of the most recent issue. No more associate editor for me! Which is nice, because back in the day I worked retail at Roses, this horrible discount store (like K-mart, but shoddier), and everyone's title was "associate," so that has bad associations for me. I am an editor. I edit. It's not a bad way to make a living, y'all.

Then, Wednesday is my once-fortnightly day off, so I should write great heaps of the Bridge novel that day. I basically figured out the plot structure for the middle third of the book. Middles often sag in novels, so I always try to load mine up with interesting stuff to carry the reader forward.

Got a nice blurb for Rangergirl from Cory Doctorow. He's a busy guy, so I really appreciate him taking the time to read and comment. It's weird, knowing my novel's out there, that people are reading it. That's the whole point, I know, but still, even if it does badly this novel will probably reach more readers than anything else I've ever written... Oh, there's a reading/signing at Borderlands Books in San Francisco, scheduled tentatively for January 7, 2006. Signings in December apparently get sparse attendance, so they decided to do it a month after the book comes out, which is cool with me. I'll start reminding y'all about it again when it gets closer, of course.

That's about it for the new new news. Life is quiet and not so bad. Except it's too freaking hot today.