Crazy day today — one…

Crazy day today -- one person in my office got fired, and another is out with kidney stones, so everything's frantic. Nonetheless, I managed to steal a few minutes to babble here. :-) Acting on a suggestion from someone who wrote in (I wish I'd noted his name, but I don't remember it now), I've reversed the order of these, so the most recent is first. This will hopefully make it easier to read -- it'll also make it a little easier to write.

Only interesting thing that's happened recently is that last night I started re-reading an old favorite of mine, Busman's Honeymoon," the 4th book in the Peter Wimsey/Harriet Vane series by Dorothy Sayers. If you enjoy mysteries, the English, and understated romance, you *must* read this series (Strong Poison, Have His Carcase, and Gaudy Night precede this (and a few short stories follow it)). I'm indulging in an orgy of Britishness and having a marvelous time (I admit it, I'm an anglophile). My only complaint is that Sayers has a tendency to scatter French and Latin phrases throughout her novels (perhaps assuming that all of her readers can read those languages) -- sadly, the only language other than English that I can read is Spanish, and so I stumble through those passages, intensely frustrated. What I wouldn't give for footnotes!

H’lo everyone! The…

H'lo everyone! The holiday was pretty nice -- Connecticut is generally gorgeous at Christmastime. I did miss the net, though. :-) Right now I'm listening to the Sophie B. Hawkins CD my sister got for me, and it got me thinking about an old love. So I wrote a rather mushy poem, which I'll probably decide I hate in three days and erase out of here -- so the only ones likely to have it inflicted on them are those who check in here between now and New Year's. In case you're curious, this was inspired by the same person who inspired Carven Paths and Renewal, which you can find in my moderately recent poems sections.

TO AN OLD LOVER

It seems that you
are still with me.

In the quiet spaces

I dare not dream of you, and yet
you creep within, tenacious.

You look at her with such eyes
as once you looked at me --
see something different, please...

...or my heart will shout
LIAR
though I still my tongue.

She loves you, desperately.

Be joyous; be content, and do not
dream of me.

Well. No promises on…

Well. No promises on this one, but I thought I'd try a diary, since I've really enjoyed reading some other ones I've found on the net. I'm not planning to include really personal stuff, but I did think some of you might enjoy reading about what's going on in my life currently. I warn you that it's entirely possible that it'll just putter out at some point -- that's what seems to happen every time I try to keep a diary.

So today I added an explanation on why I write erotica, updated the kids SF/F list, started this diary, gave my boss a little hat for her baby for Christmas, and am looking forward to the office Christmas party tonight. I'll be going to visit my parents for a few days, so I probably won't look at this again till Tuesday. Life is basically very good for me right now - love life is going well -- just sold a novella to Puritan, so as soon as I send them the invoice I'll be getting a nice, fat check, and it's the holidays!