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Several Stories, One Toe, Three Mornings
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I've read some good things lately. At work we got a copy of Theodora Goss's new Small Beer chapbook, The Rose in Twelve Petals and Other Stories. The original story, "Her Mother's Ghosts," is beautiful, poetic, and melancholy. I also very much liked her Polyphony 4 story, "The Wings of Meister Wilhelm" (and have I mentioned her Alchemy 2 story "Miss Emily Gray"? Heather and I both adored that one). Her stories are always treats, and to read three new ones in the course of a week is quite wonderful indeed.

On my lunch break at work I perused the second Michael-Chabon-edited McSweeney's anthology (we've got a galley). China Miéville has a very cool story therein, "Reports of Certain Events in London," that dabbles in metafiction in a way I've never seen China do before. The central idea is incredibly cool, and the fragmented narrative approach is more interesting and evocative than a straight linear storyline would have been.

I've also been reading through the St. Martin's Year's Bests (and I didn't realize until yesterday that Link & Grant included my story "Fable from a Cage" in the short list of stories they would have published, if they'd had more room in the anthology. Very flattering!). I'd read most of the fantasy and horror selections before, but about half of the Dozois anthology is new to me. I actually do like science fiction; I just don't seek it out as aggressively as I do fantasy.

Still haven't decided what to take for on-the-plane reading to Boston. I'll have to sort through the big pile of unread books in the living room...


On Monday morning, I tripped in the basement at work and tore the nail off my right little toe. Didn't just lose the nail, but also a good chunk of the flesh underneath, so the nail may never grow back. I limped upstairs, bleeding, and washed it out and bandaged it. Walking around doesn't hurt when I'm barefoot, but as soon as I put on socks or shoes of any kind, something rubs against the little toe and causes me pain. Sucks. I'm hoping it'll be more-or-less healed by this weekend, since I don't want to be limping around Worldcon. We'll see, I guess. Monday night I was struck by a bizarre, lethargic depression, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball. In retrospect I think I was just tired.

I got up at 5:15 a.m. on Tuesday morning, stumbled around the house, and went to work. I drove my boss and four other people to the San Francisco airport so they could go to Worldcon. Then I returned to work. Since I came in so early, I got to leave early, and went home at 2:30. The afternoon was uneventful, mostly spent sitting on the couch, reading stories from The Year's Best Science Fiction. Very relaxing. I needed the downtime, because I was exhausted.

Today I rose at 6:30 a.m., and took Heather to the dentist. Then I went to work, getting to the office around 7:45. Another early day. Which is just as well, since I have to leave work at 3:45 this afternoon. After various delays and cancellations, the plumber is finally coming to fix our sinks this afternoon, at 4 o'clock. Or so I am assured. I'll write further of my adventures as they come to pass...

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