fireflies put your mittens on

There's a chill in the air. Undeniably. But subtle and sometimes disappearing altogether. It makes for a lot of turning the heat on, then off, then the air on, repeat indefinitely. Oh well.

Say... progresses. Oh yes, we really do always ram up against our deadlines, don't we? It's going to be a really fine issue though.

Not much to say, but I've been trying to keep up with thing, so here I am keeping up with it. Starting fiddling with a story I started in March today. I think I like it, but I'm not convinced yet. Am getting ready to send the YA to a few people for thoughts, comments, reactions, etc., after Mr. Rowe gave it a "go ahead and send it bill" even though we've been too busy for him to finish it (he's refusing to read it in front of me, even though I will totally not ask what part he's at every five seconds, I promise). He's almost there and says it's good and not the kind of thing that needs to be razed and rebuilt block by block before it ever sees the light of day. I hope he's right. Ah, doubt, the writer's second curse.

Speaking of which, some old school writing advice that bears repeating at Holt Uncensored. Looks like an interesting site, though I hardly agree with her on some of the examples she holds up as don't-do-this's in that piece.

And do any of you ever listen to Danger Theater? I usually forget but am always glad when I remember.

Night.