Also, to my great distress (and near myocardial infarction), the smoke alarm went off a little while ago--the one right outside the library door where I'm working. Very double not good on nerves or for headaches. I'm still rather baffled as to what set it off, as well as what prompted it to cease its ear-shattering wails. I'm thinking it was a mischievous fey or ghostie. Or perhaps it was the cinnamon in my cream of wheat.
My brain hurts.
reddherring1955 put together three fantastic writerly "Ten Reasons" lists: "Ten Reasons Why I Write," "Ten Negative Things I Have Learned (Mostly About Myself) from Writing Fiction," and "Ten Positive Things I Have Learned from Writing Fiction." I'd link to them, except the big chicken has friends-locked that post ( you know I love you, Swamp Queen).
Edit: reddherring1955 unlocked her post! Therefore, I give you listie goodness.
- My contrib. copies of April's Cricket with my story "The King of Rabbits and Moon Lake" in it. Cricket always puts out a gorgeous publication, and this is no exception. My story has three illustrations in it (by Patrick Gannon), and I spent a chunk of yesterday afternoon squeeing over them. Actually, and I'm a little embarrassed admitting this, but every time I read "The King of Rabbits and Moon Lake," I get teary-eyed. I feel particularly foolish when my own stories make me cry--the realization that my writing brain is manipulating the rest of me, or something--and in this case I'm weepy and sniffling like a ninny over a tale of bunnies and elephants. Still, red-rimmed eyes notwithstanding, it's those stories that tug at my emotions that I end up loving the most. I'm so glad this one found such a good home.
- 137-day pass from Cicada. Alas, it wasn't a good fit, falling between what they're seeking for either Cicada or Cricket. But I also found out that my Cricket/Cicada editor is also a fan of Doctor Who, which is just way cool.
- 3-day email from the assistant editor of Baen's Universe letting me know she's passing my story up the line for consideration by Eric Flint. Crossing my fingers. A lot.