Good news on Father's Day -- my story "On a Blade of Grass," sold to Bill Schaefer at Subterranean magazine. (Total time from submission to getting paid: about 3 days.) I've been impressed by the magazine, from its initial print incarnation to its newer online form, and I'm really happy to be part of it. It's the only story I've written this year, so I'm glad it has a home. It's an actual science fiction story, too. With, like, scientific speculation. Not very rigorous speculation, maybe, but nevertheless, it's weird for me to be writing stories about parasitology and interstellar war instead of, like, manticores and harpies and stuff.

I'm about 3,000 words into what we might as well call my Simulation story, and I think it'll end up being about twice that length, just shy of novelette territory. (Unless I get longwinded.) And it's also science fiction. I don't know what's gotten into me lately.

Sent off checks for my quarterly taxes today. Bye bye, savings account! It was nice knowing you!

For Father's day, Heather got me a t-shirt with a bear on it (rawr) and set up a ludicrously extravagant sundae bar. Two kinds of whipped cream, three kinds of chocolate sauce, cherry pie filling, maraschino cherries, caramel sauce, sprinkles, nuts, cake, cookies, assorted ice creams... it was insane. In the best possible way. If I'd known fatherhood came with so much ice cream, I would've signed up earlier...

Flytrap #10 will be accepting fiction and non-fiction submissions from July 1 to August 15. Guidelines are here. Wow me, people!

On a sadder note, we went to see Susan and Matt for one last time yesterday afteroon (well, in California -- it's not like we won't see them at conventions and on visits and so forth). We're going to miss them a lot. The west coast is a little less fun today.

River can drink out of a sippy cup all by himself! With minimal upside-down-water-pouring-everywhere-ness!