More stuff:

My poem, one of my very rare poems - "Atlantis" - is now up at Strange Horizons.

Congratulations and thank you to the winner of the deformed ARC of Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart! Also, if you've not yet preordered a copy, the platypus, dodo, and moth men all say "Hop to it, kittens." I didn't say it. They said it. In unison. ( Read more... )

It's dratted Sunday, kittens. COMMENT! I was up until after four ayem, and didn't wake up until fucking noon, so this is going to be very goddamn brief. Weekends are for pussies ( Read more... )

Cloudy. Drizzly. 50˚F ( Read more... )

Sometimes, someone says something that's just so absolutely fucking true, you pass it along. So pay the fuck attention (and thanks to Spooky for bringing this to my attention, courtesy coilhouse). For the record, this is me giving a shit:

"How to Make Love to a Trans Person"

Forget the images you’ve learned to attach ( Read more... )

The cold hangs onto Providence with a death grip. At least the snow is gone, and there's sun.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,223 words on The Drowning Girl: A Memoir. And realized that I'm much nearer THE END than I'd guessed. It could be finished today and tomorrow. Maybe three days at the most. And the realization is disorienting, to say the least. Also, ( Read more... )

Two nights (well, mornings) in a row now, I've slept more than eight hours. Amazing ( Read more... )

The snow should begin in another half hour or so. I'm sitting here, sipping coffee, staring out my window, waiting. There are small birds out there, flittering busily about. At least, their flittering presents the illusion of business. The illusion or the impression. I appears we may be snowed in all weekend ( Read more... )

There was work yesterday. Tinkering with the proposal for Joey LaFaye, which I've sent to my agent. Today I'll need to begin work on the proposal for the book after Joey LaFaye. As yet, it has no title. Yesterday, I looked at the proposal we used to sell Daughter of Hounds and was a bit astounded and embarrassed at how awful it was, and at how ( Read more... )

Just thought I'd get in a couple of shorts as the month ticks away:

"The Two Trees"

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart ( Read more... )

Maybe this will help make up for the dullness of this morning's entry. Maybe.

"Death & Co." (Sylvia Plath)

Two, of course there are two ( Read more... )