Today is the 84th anniversary of the birth of Edward St. John Gorey.

I really am tired of writing about editing The Red Tree. Fortunately, today is the last day of it. Until the CEM, anyway. Yesterday, I wrote an editor's postscript, which is actually an excerpt from A Long Way To Morning, one of Sarah Crowe's novels. That came to 683 words. The scene occurred to me on Friday, while I was lying in bed, getting over the exhaustion thing. After the postscript was written, I finally got around to the part of this process I've been putting off as long as possible, compiling a complete list of all authors and works quoted in the text, and demonstrating for Penguin's legal sorts that all the quotes are either a) examples of fair use or b) quotations from works that are now in the public domain. Which meant juggling a PDF from Cornell University with a document from the lawyers at Penguin, and tracking down dozens of death dates and publication dates. Tedious to the nth degree.

Today, I finish writing the author's notes/acknowledgments, and we read chapters eight and nine over again. And that's that. Tomorrow, it goes back to Manhattan.

It's a cold grey day here in Providence. Spring seems like it's at least a year off. I've not left the house since Wednesday.

If you haven't already, please have a look at the current eBay auctions. And, for those who may not know, I will point out that my author's photo on the back of the dust jacket of The Five of Cups is from a nude photo shoot I did in 2003. That's called "extra incentive."

I will also remind you of the lottery to benefit the Shirley Jackson awards, which ends tomorrow. I have donated a signed set of the mass-market paperback editions of my novels, including Silk, Threshold, Low Red Moon, Murder of Angels, and Daughter of Hounds, and it only costs $1 to buy a chance to win them.

It occurs to me that I'm watching far too much mediocre television. Well, actually, as we no longer have cable, I'm watching too much mediocrity intended for television, which we're streaming via the internet. Last night began with Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, an okay episode, but they really can do a lot better. Then we watched the second episode of Joss Whedon's Dollhouse. And I still am not impressed. And that sucks, because I want to be impressed. At least I'm beginning to figure out some of the reasons the show is falling flat (for me, at least). To start with, Eliza Dushku simply isn't a good enough actress to pull off the role of Echo convincingly. Instead of seeing her as different people, transformed by the imprints, we see her as Eliza Dushku transformed by wardrobe. Last week, Librarian Eliza. This week, Action Eliza (with Kung-Fu grip!). Too bad the part of Echo didn't go to Amy Acker. And I loathe the character of Topher. He's like a lazy caricature of a Joss Whedon character, primarily Wash from Firefly and Serenity, but missing everything that really made Wash work. So, low marks for the second week. I find it hard to believe this series will survive even a whole season. Finally, we watched Jon Avnet's Righteous Kill, which was dull despite Robert De Niro and Al Pacino. Also, "50 Cent" needs to stick to whatever it is that people pay him to do that isn't acting.

At any rate, the coffee's getting cold. The platypus says wrap it up.