Really vivid dreams the past couple of nights. Wads of cash, brown recluse spider bites, etc. (The genesis of the dreams is clear. I've been thinking about wads of cash and brown recluse spiders lately.)

It's Friday, but it's early morning, and the weekend still feels very very far away. At least this is my short day (only 8 hours, as opposed to my usual 9 hour days).

Last night I finally got back to writing fiction. I did 500 words on the Spelling Bee story, which had been sitting, unloved and unworked-on, for about a month. I should finish it next week, though. I think I'm happy with it so far. Hope the editor likes it. It doesn't look like it's going to be too absurdly long, at least. I seem to be discovering brevity in the past couple of years -- my short stories no longer all sprawl out over 10,000 words in length. I have a neat idea for another story, and some half-formed quasi-ideas that could develop into more. I think I'll go on a little short story binge for the next month or so. I need to get back into that groove. Lately I've found the idea of writing short stories more intimidating than the idea of writing novels, which is odd for me.

Kristin Livdahl's very fine story "Saga of the Raiding Team" is now online. It's the story that made me beg her to send a story for Flytrap! I'm reading her husband Alan DeNiro's collection Skinny Dipping in the Lake of the Dead and liking it a lot.