sand sky birds

Just as I was feeling the need for new music, someone gives me a brilliant duo of CDs. I only have one in front of me here, so the other will have to wait. But the "Transfiguration of Vincent" by M. Ward is just unbelievably good. Beautiful, sad and tuneful. Just buy it.

That's about all I've got. It's a gray day, and I'm on the fourth floor of the library. I keep working on this little thing I've been working on, instead of finishing the polish of THE FINE FELLOW, which has to be done this weekend and has to go out to some people on Monday because I've made them wait too long already.

"Dead man, dead man, don't cry..."

Someone worthy has claimed the One Story. The Thanksgiving 2003 Plan looks set to work out. I'm outlining a new YA, which maybe, maybe has the potential to be more than one book. Possibility is infinite on the fourth floor of the library. Maybe I will just stay up here nad watch the starlings trace out messages to each other in the sky.