Spring

It's a glum, gray day. I am going to a meeting of my poetry workshop in an hour or so. I spent yesterday inputting an old, old story for which I had no e-file. It's rough in places; I am a better writer now; but I think I can fix it pretty easily. And I went over the next essay for Strange Horizon, which is due at the editor any day now. It's about fan fiction.

Next on the list is getting two stories out to editors. That leaves three Lydia Duluth stories which need light revision before going out. And the novel, which was supposed to be done in May, but other things came up.

I feel restless, which is probably spring. I want to write something new, not finish old work. Maybe "The Herman Melville of Brooklyn." Or a light YA fantasy adventure. I think the very wet noir planetary romance could be expanded into a novel, but it would require a lot of work. A new short story or a light YA sounds better.