Headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. The Waiting Place.

I am, I fear, in the Waiting Place right now. I'm not enjoying it very much. Well, I did some revisions to Saga, which failed to make quarter finals in WOTF, but I'm reluctant to send it out until I hear back from Asimov's on Tao of Troth. The two are sort of companion pieces. And yes, WHAT WAS I THINKING? Oh well, I should be hearing from Asimov's any day now. Yep.

I think I'm starting to scare the mailman.

This quarter's deadline is June 30. I have a story, but I'm waiting to get some notes on it from my Faithful Reader. I'm not sure if I like it. The ending isn't satisfactory for me, but I'm not sure what the problem is. Of course, I loved Saga so much it is quite possible I'm not qualified to judge. I have some thoughts for a story with a dragon in it, but that's very pre-birth. I have some words on paper but the voice isn't there yet.

I'm reluctant to make a big plunge into the second draft of the novel Omphalos, horribly because I'm waiting to read other people's books! It's a big three months coming up for me with new stuff from J.K. Rowling, Jasper Fforde, George R.R. Martin, and Neil Gaiman. Horrible, horrible. Can't I find time to both read and write?

Hmm, the Waiting Place is a very Negative Place. I need to move on, to find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.