Can't seem to get that song out of my head today. It's Tori Amos, in case you're interested. You better bring your own sun, sweet girl. I love Tori. Amazing artist. I saw her once, in concert at the Varsity Theatre, not long after it opened (I'm dating myself here), in Baton Rouge. Her first real tour, in support of her debut, Little Earthquakes. Unbelieveable show. My small-town mind was absolutely blown as I watched her writhe and purr on that piano bench. My musical sensibilities changed that night, and I'm not sorry for it.
No writing today, but lots of thinking. Lots and lots of thinking. I think the book will be mostly on hold until after Thanksgiving. I might be able to get something down tomorrow, perhaps again Thursday. After that, though, it's mad dash to grocery shop, clean the house, and feed the masses.
Second, don't forget that The Absent Willow Review's Anthology, The Best Horror, Fantasy, and Science Fiction 2009 is on sale now here. It contains my story, "The Last Fairy Tale," one I'm quite proud of, as it were. Also, something I hadn't thought of until a friend mentioned it today: I'm more than happy to sign copies of the book for anyone who requests. Just contact me via private email and I'll send you the shipping address and particulars.
A picture of my roses up top, by the way. Just for the hell of it.
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