Today, I wrote the first 1,060 words of something I'm called "Untitled 43."
And I began reading John Kennedy Toole's The Confederacy of Dunces for the first time since 1996.
After the writing, we went to the post office, where a modest check from Writer's House awaited me (mostly royalties on Threshold), as well as (finally) an ARC of The Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan. Then we visited Irondale Pickers, a marvelous place. On the way home, we stopped at Winn-Dixie, where everyone was buying bread and milk and beer. Spooky made spaghetti.
Lydia wants to be a gargoyle when she grows up.