Annivalentarry Day! (with apologies to Lau)

I'm Steve Brezenoff, and here's the news.

YA MS the Second -- that's right, the second, because I left it behind like a year ago to work on YA MS the Third -- is building up steam. Over the weekend, I dropped about 2500 words on its wallowing butt, and the whole plot is synopsized, nearly to my satisfaction. It's certainly enough of a synopsis for me to finally finish a working first draft. Once that's done, I think I'll have a pretty easy time of finding where it needs heavy repairs.

Harry the dog is seven! His birthday was yesterday. Disclaimer: we have no idea what Harry's birthday really is, but based on the vet's estimate when we first adopted him back in 2004, and based on our own romantic tendencies, we chose February 15 as his birthday, it also being the date that we first shared an apartment together, back in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn. Holla back!

Valentine's Day! We kept it low-key, as is our way, this year enjoying a late lunch at the Midtown Global Market (have you been, Twin Cities? If not, goodness, go!), and a delicious treat from the Salty Tart and Izzy's for dessert. But the highpoint for me was this gift:

The short version of the story: that date is our wedding date, and that quilt was initially constructed and not finished by Beth as a first-anniversary gift for me. However, things got complicated in our life (I'm looking at you, Samuel!) and the quilt went unfinished for a little while. Totally in secret, Beth managed to get the thing finished while I was in NYC for SCBWI, and voila! Completed anniversary quilt as a Valentine's Day gift! Woo! It's hell of comfy, too.

Anniversaween Weekend

This morning, for the third time, Beth and I enjoyed the amazing brunch at St. Paul Hotel's main floor restaurant, the St. Paul Grill, no relationship to the St. Pauli Girl.

This is a tradition of ours. You see, we were wed at the St. Paul Hotel three years ago, as I noted recently herein. But specifically, our wedding was a Sunday brunch affair. Hence, the tradition!

It's also one of the best, most decadent brunches we've ever had, anywhere, period.

Today I had the country breakfast, of which I will spare you the details because you'll be so jealous you'll probably devour your own arm. The point is I couldn't breathe afterward and the whole family slept for like three hours this afternoon.

The other feature of our anniversary weekend this year was, of course, Halloween. It's probably my second favorite holiday, behind Thanksgiving, and sometimes I prefer it outright. This year, I did up the porch something fierce, with sound effects and special lighting and a scarecrow -- the whole nine. Also, to spare us the hassle of dealing with a barking and snippy Jack Russell, I handed the candy out through a huge poster of a skull -- the mouth of which I cut a slit into -- that was covering one of the big windows onto the porch. It was hell of creepy.

Anyway, our anniversary weekend is now over. So, one last time: happy anniversary, sweetie.

This post is also a test of my attempt to feed all entries in my Livejournal. Let's see if it works.
[ETA: Okay, it totally didn't work. But I also totally know why. Next time, it will work.]

image from http://undead-art.deviantart.com/art/Together-Forever-zombie-love-54566305

Three years!

Happy anniversary!

To who? To me and Beth, natch. Today is our third anniversary, in fact, and in celebration, Beth went off to work and I stayed home with Sam!

Wait, no.

Last night, while I was at my awesome Loft class (which, by the way, was a riot last night; everyone seemed drunk, in a good way), Beth made a batch of maple glazed cookies with coarse sea salt. They are amazing. I have eaten at least 8 since then, and do keep in mind that it's not even noon here and that I was asleep for about 8 hours between when the cookies were given to me and now. The point is, though, that I recently Twittered that I was having bona fide maple lust. It is sated -- for now.

In other, less interesting news, YA MS the Third is done. Again. I think. I am in the middle of a read-through right now, and then I'll pass it off to Beth, as she is my favorite first reader. It's very short. Like, too short for most editors to look at seriously, I think. The AE is okay with the length, so that's reassuring, certainly. But he's a maverick!

In truth, I probably wrote lazily and could have include more action here or there.

My next task, after Eric Stevens finishes his latest assignment, is to fix and finish the trailer for |-1|. Not that there's any hurry.

Did you guys know Josh Berk is eating a burger a day for a hundred days, to celebrate the release of his debut, The Dark Days of Hamburger Halpin, on the 100th day? How jealous are you? Or more to the point, how jealous am I?!

I wish I'd named my book The Absolute Value of Negative Pizza.

The Secret of Roan Pizza

More excellent pizza!

This time it's on the east side of the Metro, and, though Hiawatha Pizza is certainly closer to home as the crow flies (or the bike rides), getting down there in the car is a huge pain thanks to the clusterfrak that is Lake Street. So, we present Pino's of Woodbury. I won't get into a whole review spiel here, since an excellent review is already up at S4xton. (Photo is from S4xton.) It's spot-on. I think Hiawatha is a little closer to perfect NYC-style slices. It's also a little cheaper and the slices are bigger. However, since Hiawatha does very little business, the product is often a little sitting-aroundy. I also have no confidence that Hiawatha will still be in business a year from now, whereas Pino's seems in good shape.

I'm out for some write time at the moment. Been stepping back and forth between my two most important WIPs (YA MSS the Second and the Third, that is). I'm 99% certain that the first 25 pages of YA MS the Third will be my first submission for crit at the Loft. Thing is, I feel like I'm just teetering on the edge of eureka with both projects. Like, at any moment, the thing that's going to make plots really work and feel organic is just around the corner.

So what am I doing here? Who knows. I'm probably a little afraid to get there.

Beth and I watched The Secret of Roan Inish last night. I still love it. Beth was very against it from the get go. I think the scene in which cousin Tadgh tells Fiona about the family's odd mating history is what got her turning around on the issue. Either that or she just said at the end that she liked it to shut me up and she actually didn't like it. Who knows. Anyway, I very much want to read the book on which it's based, The Secret of the Ron Mor Skerry. Has anyone out there?

Sunday in the house with Sam

Yesterday afternoon I finished the first draft of YA MS the Third. It turned out about half as long as I think it will be, with one entire plot missing, a plot which is yet to be determined but that will save this thing once I figure out what it is.

Beth read the whole thing last night, and had some very helpful notes for me. I think overall she enjoyed it, and her biggest concerns were the same as mine: "What the hell is going on?"

In other news, I haven't updated in over a week now, which is actually fairly embarrassing. But like I mentioned in the last update: still waiting for the final title of YA Novel the First to be officially final, and for a few other things, that will help to make an update a little more worth reading than, say, this one is.

Right now, I'm hanging out with Sam, letting Beth sleep in a little longer. But I do hope she wakes soon so the three of us can get to our Sunday morning tradition: the Saint Paul Farmers Market. Have I ever raved about the market here? It's truly wonderful. It's fairly small, but every farm represented is local and organic. Throughout the summer, I'd say beginning in early May or so, the stuff for sale changes with the months and weeks; we begin with perennials and annuals for sale to the hobby gardener, and soon asparagus and strawberries show up. The corn appears soon, along with peppers and cucumbers and broccoli, and zucchini, et cetera. Eventually the apple-orchard people come out, with sample slices and fresh-pressed cider. It's really one of the best things Saint Paul has to offer.

So that's where we're headed, once Beth gets up. We'll get everything we need for salads, our traditional Sunday night dinner, plus a couple of coffees to enjoy as we stroll the aisles. And I promise that this week, I'll update twice more, very likely with nothing interesting to report, but a promise is a promise, after all.

Not for the squeamish

I didn't want to blog about this. Frankly, the whole episode would be better forgotten. Of course, if facebook statuses mean any posterity, it's far too late for that.

This was my facebook update yesterday morning:


I was out walking Harry, our faithful if irritating terrier, when about two blocks from home I was accosted and chosen as host organism for a horrible beast. Its new domicile was of course my left ear.

The two block walk was difficult. Every so often, the little expletive would flap its tiny wings, presumably to remind me it was in there and that it essentially owned me. Upon feeling and hearing these flaps ("The calls are coming from inside the house!" has never been so poignant), I would -- I believe quite understandably -- freak the hell out somewhat. Which is to say, I'd scream and slap myself in the ear.

I can only imagine what my neighbors must think of me.

Upon reaching our house, I (can you guess?) googled "a bug is stuck in my ear." One suggestion included "stick a blade of grass in your ear." I suppose that sounds . . . reasonable? But in my panicked state, I read "stick a blade OR grass in your ear." That sounded downright insane, so I tried a different site. Before I had a chance, however, my new little ear friend decided to do some serious flapping of wings. I screamed in a very manly way, and then woke up Beth and the baby to explain very calmly what was going on.

A few things we tried, thanks to Beth's clear head, helped. Among them: flushing the ear with water. This helped the little expletive get one . . . ugh . . . wing out of the ear canal. Beth, coyly, spotted the wing but did not fully let on that the creature living inside me was indeed a moth. She knew this would upset me. She did, however, suggest I stand next to a light.

That's when I knew.

"Ohmygod it's a freakin' moth!"

I won't get into the hoary details of my screaming and flailing and insisting everyone back away, no sudden moves, et cetera. Suffice it to say, just as I was getting ready to head to the ER for a mothectomy, the thing crawled out and fell to the bathroom floor.

I then killed it with tremendous passion and loathing. I think even Roo will understand.

It was a complicated day after that. That is, despite this unquestionable low point in the early morning, it turned out to be a good day (we bought Beth her new laptop), then a very good evening (we had supper at the Lakeside with many a Bracken), and then a freakin' amazing night (an author whom I respect and admire has agreed to blurb YA Novel the First, and sent me an amazing email telling me so).

Going back east, sans laptop

I am saddened, for two reasons:

1. I lost a follower on this blog! I'm back down to 30. Sadness. I think I get a few followers here who aren't terribly interested in anything I have to say but are merely hoping I'll follow them back. I get a tremendous number of such followers on Twitter, too. Oh well. Good riddance, I suppose.

2. My laptop--aka, the most important inanimate object in my life--is in dire need of repair. The display simply doesn't work, 9 out of 10 times I try to start it up. And that 10th time, it usually goes black after a few minutes. The thing is still on warranty, so I'll have to ship it out to Dell and wait for it to return to me.

I am cheered, as well, though. For beginning Tuesday of next week, my family will spend a week in New York! This is great for all the usual reasons (i.e., food), but also because we will finally meet Sam's cousin Jaden, born to my brother and his wife in California way back in December!

With any luck at all, my laptop will be back in my possession shortly after we return home in early July. Then I can get cracking on YA MS the Third, which I am re-excited about after a long discussion with my agent yesterday. Oh, and YA Novel the First? I have to write the two tiniest little passages you ever heard of, which I'll probably do this weekend on Beth's laptop (using it right now!), and then I do believe the editing portion of our show will be over. Woo! Then it's final title, cover ideas . . . I can't stand it.

Oh, and speaking of early July, here is a public service announcement: Please, if you live near a family with a dog, don't shoot off firecrackers or fireworks. Thank you. Oh, also if you have fingers.

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I'm unbelievably tired.

This was, hands down, my best Father's Day ever. It was of course my first, too, but still.

The gifts! My new favorite shirt, narrowly nudging my previous favorite out of first place, is this here:

To find out what it says, go here and use the translator.

Beth gave me that shirt yesterday, on behalf of Sammy, who of course saved up his allowance to buy it for me. Harry didn't get me anything but a crappy card, if you're wondering.

This morning, Beth gave me her present, which is one of the coolest presents ever. It's a calendar of the next 12 months, and once a month, Beth has declared an WYAOD. To go along with these WYAODs, she has given gift cards to my favorite "satellite offices," totaling more than enough money with which to buy coffees and cakes and bagels and such to have a very successful 12 WYAODs. I'm very excited about this. My two WIPs, and maybe even that peskey MG I haven't touched in ages, will get very whipped into shape, no doubt about it.

Following a short bike ride for breakfast on my own, we three headed to the Children's Museum in downtown Saint Paul. It was all of our first time going, and we all loved it. Awesomely, it was "Free Day," which we didn't even know when we headed down there and were thrilled to hear it. Sam got to enjoy the Habitot room, specifically for kids 6 to 48 months old. (Sam's 10 months, by the way.) It was one of the few times so far in his life he's had the opportunity to play with other babies his age, so that was a pleasure to watch.

Lunch at Midtown Global Market, ice cream at Izzy's, a nice long family walk . . . All in all, a great Father's Day, a holiday that's actually been pretty crappy for me for the last nine years. So it was a nice, very welcome, change.

Oh, there was that pesky Chapter-a-Day Challenge that a few Tenners, including myself, were doing this weekend. I didn't win. I failed in epic proportions. Other than revisions, it was a work-free weekend. Also a nice and welcome change, I suppose.

Perfect Thursday

Another week has simply flown by, hasn't it?

It really did go by quickly, and frankly at the moment I can't remember most of it. I'm fairly sure I haven't done my 5000 words for the week, per Purple Clover's challenge, but I am going to take write night tonight, so hopefully I can come close.

How much flashback is too much flashback? I find flashbacks to be an excellent device for maintaining suspense, especially in dramatic and realistic fiction. It worked well for the likes of Jellicoe Road, and Sweethearts, and my own YA Novel the First and YA MS the Second. My current WIP, though, might be taking it too far, with a full three separate eras that need concentration: the first summer, the second summer, and the present day (literally, just the one day). I'm having trouble making this work. My goal yesterday, during an unexpected and most excellent half WYAOD, or WHYAOD, I managed to outline every crucial event in chronological order. Now I simply need to weave the times together into a fabric that will maintain suspense without jarring or confusing the reader. It will be a job of work, a lot of me sitting in coffeeshops, staring into space, and going, "Hmm."

Rather against my typical coy attitude with regard to my WIPs, I sent a few pages -- maybe 20% of what I've gotten down -- off to my agent for his opinions. I look forward to hearing back, but it will undoubtedly be a long weekend while I wait.

Oh, and after a great afternoon of cycling and writing yesterday (including lunch at Hiawatha Pizza--that dude better stay in business!), I met up with Beth and Sam at Punch for more pizza. I believe, by the way, that cycling, writing, Beth, Sam, and pizza are the sum total of the interests listed on my Facebook page. I'm not sure pizza is there, but it certainly ought to be. Which makes yesterday the perfect day!

In other news this week, I joined a new crit group, strictly online, with a group of four other gentlemen (a term I'm using very loosely). I have a feeling we are the only crit group of all guys working on literature for young people in the world. We'd have to be, according to the statistical odds.

Down with the sickness? No. Not down at all.

I've got a wicked cold. It seems a bit better today than yesterday.

Sam's got a wicked cold. It seems about ten times worse today than yesterday.

Sam had a load of trouble sleeping through the night. Babies shouldn't take Nyquil, you see. For that reason, I had slight trouble sleeping through the night, but the Nyquil I was allowed to take helped. Beth, on the other hand, was up for too long, too many times, soothing a sick baby. And also soothing Sam. Ha! Kidding. But in truth, my extra-loud-because-of-my-stuffed-nose-and-Nyquil snoring definitely didn't make Beth's night any easier.

Here's the point: I can't get a thing done. Well, I did get a load of laundry done, but I do laundry in my sleep nowadays. I mean writing. I'm not getting any writing done. I have YA MS the Second to work on, plus the next FTM, which is due Friday. I've got a write-night scheduled for tonight, so hopefully I will (A) actually use it, and (B) get something done.

My first class of the summer semester is Thursday, which is also ps my birthday.

You know, if this weren't Tuesday morning, I'd totally head to Azeroth right now. For real.

One for you, nineteen for me

I know you're all itching to hear how it went with the tax professional yesterday, so here's the scoop: excellently!

Our last two visits to the tax professional left us in small panics about getting our taxes paid. Since I work for myself and have no money automatically deducted, we always owed. (Also because I couldn't get my act together with the whole quarterly-estimated-payments thing.) This year, though, I was very good, and at the end of my meeting yesterday, we just about came out even. After paying the tax pro himself, we stand to get back about a hundred bucks. That's pretty damn perfect.

See, sure, everyone likes to get their tax refund. It's like free money, after all. But in reality it's the government paying back an interest-free loan you made to them over the course of the whole year. That doesn't seem fair! So the ideal situation, I think, is ours: I deduct my own taxes, put them into a savings account, and only pay what I have to. It really worked out great! My goal for next year is a big fat "zero" at the end of the appointment. Or better yet, the exact amount the tax pro charges.

(Of course, as it happens our government needs all the interest-free loans it can get right now, so maybe I'm thinking about this wrong.)

In other news, if Sam and Beth ever wake up from this nap, we're going out to lunch today. I'm supposed to be thinking of a place to go, but all I can come up with are burger places, like The Nook, Blue Door, Groveland Tap, Highland Grill . . . and I have a feeling Beth won't be feeling any of those. My guess is she will suggest Tanpopo, the Japanese noodle shop she swoons over. I like it too, very much, but I am just obsessed with burgers lately. Maybe I'm anemic.

After lunch, I'm doing some write-time, though I think it's will have to be 100% Eric Stevens work. He's got this basketball title due on Tuesday, and it just refuses to write itself.

Oh, and finally, my next break from WoW begins Wednesday. Why do I keep scheduling my last day to be on server-maintenance day?! Why?!

Spring in the air!

Another five days have past. So sad.

Here's the news:

It's spring-like here, freakin' finally. I've given Harry three baths in as many days, therefore, because long walks with the family all over our defrosting neighborhood leave his shaggy underbelly terribly muddy. But the walks have been delightful. In fact, after Beth got home from work yesterday, we all four walked (well, Sam rode in the stroller) to Dairy Queen for ice cream cones. And yeah, neither Sam nor Harry had any ice cream.

I have a tremendous amount of work to do right now. Much of it is for the one class I'm taking and have been effectively ignoring while not actually in the classroom. It's time to catch up. Beyond that, I've got a title for SAB due in a couple of weeks, as does Eric Stevens, and hopefully I'll be working on revisions of YA MS the First fairly soon too.

Neil Gaiman was on Colbert last night. I'm embedding the video!

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Silent night

It's even quieter in the Brezenoff household than usual right now. Somehow or other, Sam missed one of his naps today, and, despite a very long nap in the afternoon, he has drifted off to sleep in his mother's arms about an hour ahead of his normal schedule. So now, we're all quietly finishing our nights, letting Sam sleep, still in his mother's arms.

He's in his newest pj's. They're pretty cute.

Not much else is happening. There's no news on the YA MS the First front, and frankly I haven't done much in the way of work on anything else, outside of a SAB job due on Friday. It's a football book that Eric Stevens is writing. He's a goddamn machine, that Stevens. I'm telling you. BAM! BAM! BAM! Book after book, like shotgun bullets. It's pretty awe inspiring.

And look at that; Sam just woke up. Which of course means it's time to get him ready for bed.

Six months!

Thursday! I can hardly contain my excitement.

Here's the news from Lake Stevebethandsam. Tomorrow is Sam's six-month birthday! With it came his well visit to his doctor, a day early, this morning. He is in good health, as I learned last Thursday, you undoubtedly recall. He is fifteen pounds and five ounces, 26 inches long, and has the head size of a grown man, essentially. Huge headed! I think that's probably why he's a little late with the sitting without support.

Also, you can rest easy knowing that the too-hot-cup-of-coffee-sleeve thingies are no longer unitaskers!



They are also this baby's favorite toy.

In other news, I was up at 6 and at the dentist's office at 7 am this morning for a routine cleaning and exam. It was without question the least bad one of those I've had in about ten years, I'd say.

Tonight, being Thursday, will be my night at the DBC. I am giving YA MS the First another look through, fixing some minor consistency issues that are bound to arise when one covers the same timeline three times from different POVs, and then sending it off to Aforementioned Editor once again.

I think at that point, the revisions in earnest will probably begin.

No news on the agent tip yet, natch. I expect I'll hear from at least one of these people next week. Maybe? I hope?

Ooh, Beth is making rice and beans for supper tonight. It's a recipe I taught her many years ago, and that she improved over the years to the point that I no longer think of it as my recipe and much prefer it to the shwaggy budget meal I used to whip up for myself and my vegan apartment-mate back in the late 90s. I too was vegan at the time, if you're wondering.

Digression over!

Blog post over!

Foods that ooze

Our Valentine's Day turned out great, even though exactly nothing went as we thought it would. For example, earlier in the week, during our excellent heatwave, we'd discussed walking over to the local library so Sam could enjoy story time. However, since the heatwave was over, we decided instead to head out for the great Minnesota pastime of winter: Mall-Walking!! We went to MOA, spent an epoch looking for parking, and then spent maybe a nanosecond in the mall itself, which was insanely crowded and we wanted to die. So we left. Leaving the parking lot took about as long as parking had.

So now what? It was already late afternoon, and we still hadn't had lunch, so we figured a late lunch was in order. But don't you have to start calling it "dinner" if it happens after 5? Well, we went to Groveland Tap, right here in Saint Paul, which we love, and I had my first-ever Jucy Lucy, so that nice. Very nice. It was a fine burger, the finest I've had at the Groveland Tap, actually. And the idea I've heard (probably at A Hamburger Today, but I don't feel like finding it) that a JL has to be overcooked otherwise the cheese won't become molten is utter nonsense. This burger was perfect: pink in the center around the oozing amazingness of melted American cheese.

But I digress. This late lunch/early supper blew our Chinese takeout plans out of the water, so we went without any dinner, per se, and went straight to dessert! I whipped up some molten chocolate cake. The cake oozes with rich deliciousness when you poke it, just like my burger did at dinner! For your viewing pleasure, before and after pictures are included in this entry.



So that was V Day! It was fantastic.

Today, my main complaint is that after two hours of writing nonstop at the DBC, I have exactly nothing worth saving, except as a character study in big sister. So, not entirely unvaluable, but certainly not satisfying. I'll do more in the morning, hopefully something worth keeping, if I find the motivation.

Valentime!

A Valentine's Day update.

Beth, Sam, and Harry are still in bed. Harry was good enough to wake me up at around 7:30 because he had to use the great outdoors. Of course, when we got back to the house after his walk, he climbed right back into bed and fell asleep. I am not so good at going back to sleep, so I've spent the last couple of hours thinking about what to make for breakfast once my wife wakes up, and goofing off in Northrend. Could my life be any richer??

I kid, of course. My life is the greatest.

We've said no gifts for V Day this year. This got me thinking: If my life were a sitcom or a romantic comedy, both of us would have gone to a friend, individually, or to a trusted but doofy cousin, or the like, and been convinced that when one's better half says "no gifts," they really mean "gifts." However, since my life is not a sitcom, nor a romantic comedy (though it is often funny and at times romantic), I am trusting that my wife and I are not so silly. So we will exchange cards and smooches, but no gifts. I think also we might get Chinese delivery from the place nearby that most resembles New York City Chinese takeout places. Which for the record isn't necessarily the best Chinese takeout. But moving on.

I'd also like to get some writing done today, which of course makes one wonder, Then shouldn't you be writing right now, while the whole family is sleeping, instead of blogging and killing brain cells in an MMO? Yeah, probably.

So. . . . Back to work: what should I make for breakfast?

Magnet Space Wheel

Folding laundry at the moment, wondering if and when Sam, Beth, and Harry will decide to climb out of bed. In their defense, they were all three up earlier this morning, for anywhere from a couple of hours to twenty minutes--it varies from individual to individual--and then returned to bed. Still, it's after ten and I'm feeling restless.

I have this weird urge to get out on my bike this morning, despite the slush and ice. Fact is, it's been so long so I took the thing out, I bet it needs a little tuning before it could even go anywhere. I'd probably make it to the garage before saying, "Ah, screw it," and coming back inside.

I haven't gotten a productive thing done in the last two days or so. The other night I started a read-through of YA MS the Second, and still love a lot of it. There are some seriously excellent scenes, not to break my arm patting my own back or anything. Of course, quite a bit is complete garbage, but I'm glad I wrote those bits too, since they all taught me a bit more about central characters. I've sketched out a few new scene ideas, which is something I've always done with fiction and until recently considered a bad habit; this writing in scenes thing seemed to always get me into trouble when it came to really tightening up the plot. But if Richard Peck says he does it that way, then hell, I can too.

I bought one of these yesterday, ostensibly for Sam, but I love it. I mean, he enjoys watching the wheely thing roll around, but it's for me. I'll let him play with it when he's older. Maybe. If he's good. Oh, and saying I "bought" it isn't entirely true either. It was for sale at the World Market closing sale last night, but as it didn't have a price tag or bar code or even any packaging, I wasn't charged for it. So I guess you could say I didn't buy it. I simply took it. Or was given it.

Lazy. Ooh, mail's here.

Saturday, just after noon. You'll never guess what: Beth, Sam, and Harry are sleeping.

It's not like they're still sleeping, but still. You gotta wonder.

In Beth's defense, she was up until two last night--watching the latest Lost. I didn't watch. Completely over it, along with the rest of TV, with the exception of The Daily Show and the MST3Ks and Buffys I have on DVD. Natch.

Finished Coraline last night while Beth watched the first hour of Lost. Then, like a normal person, I went off to bed. Anyway, it was good. The first 25% or so was, I felt, on the weak side, chock full of various middle grade cliches which can be for the most part traced back to CS Lewis. However, it occurred to me as I read that in many ways this book is--more so for sure than the Golden Compass--a direct response to the Narnian chronicles. Also it was pretty scary, a quick-as-hell read, and seriously Mr. Gaiman is blowing up on Twitter today; it's kind of ridiculous. Also I'm excited about the movie, if I didn't already mention that. Here's a trailer I like very much. Here's another via the man's blog.

Well, I think that's five posts for the week. I'm going to have a cup of tea.

Fifty-first

I suppose I'd better drop something on this blog, to be sure I make my five posts for the week. (Might have to make tomorrow a double; I'll check later.)

So my last post was my 50th. Not a huge milestone or anything, but hey, not too shabby.

Beth and Sam are asleep on the couch, and Harry is asleep in the comfy chair. I just read the first half of Coraline as the house settled along with night. It was creepy, and I'm a grown man. So weak. I should watch Don't Look Now again soon, next time I have the house to myself after dark.

This should be a good weekend. I'm looking forward to possibly some work time tomorrow, as well dinner with friends at the Japanese restaurant behind the St Paul Hotel, the name of which escapes me at the moment, but which I like very much. Also I love being so near to the St Paul Hotel for the memories. Hopefully we can keep nicely busy this weekend, even beyond those two things, as I'm hoping for some notes in response to YA MS the First next week.

Well, let's see how subtly I can wake up at least one of these lazy bones. Rice and beans for dinner tonight might not be happening, as it takes ages to prepare and it's already seven. What are we, European? I don't think so. I'm this close to ordering in Chinese food. Meh.

Down with the sickness?

YA MS-wise, not an entirely unproductive day. I did write up Suzanne's little finale, and I'm happy with about 80% of it. Right now, I'm taking a break from another read-through of Lily's part, which will need some tightening. I think I'll ink it up, fix it up once, and then call it ready for editorial eyes.

However, today will not the productive day I'd hoped it would be. Beth and Sam are still living with the colds they've had for a couple of days now, and so we've canceled all our plans, including the part that involved me having five hours of quiet work time today.

Last night was a fun little gathering at SAB's editorial honcho's place, along with the rest of the SAB editorial staff. It was a good time, with excellent vegetable lasagna and chocolate cake. We got home after nine. Can you imagine? This might have been our most social weekend of all time, if not for those dastardly colds the other two Brezenoffs are dealing with.

Let's hope they feel better soon.