I don't often post about my dreams, on account of finding other people's dreams really rather dull as a rule; they're only charming, I think, to those who figure in them.
However. This morning I dreamed that Geoff Ryman phoned me up to talk about the problems with the story he was buying from me, the rewrites that he wanted. Which were ... extensive. It was a baseball story, see, and he wanted it to speak to American patriotism, and like that...
It was something of a relief to wake up and remember that while Geoff does indeed owe me an edit letter on a story, it is not about baseball and need not speak to any such subject matter.
That was really the best moment of my morning. I am filled altogether with a disinclination to work, especially to go back to the new novel for a second pass: which is of course the one thing that I must do. I'm off to the Lit & Phil with it, any moment now, honest I am. But my head hurts already.
To brighten your day, on the other hand, I offer you evidence that Barry has a new favourite perch, from which he may supervise my working: