Greetings, my conventional unconventionalists...

Well I sent "Public Assistance" off to Interzone this morning, winging its way to Cambridgeshire in Merrye Olde Englande. I just did a bit of perusal and am tempted to send "Shepherds" to an electronic format magazine even though I kick myself for thinking it. No. I will send it to Asimov's first. Then I think about the rassumfrassum electronic formats.

I watched Contact again last night. Why do I get depressed by it? Probably because it's exactly what would happen when SETI does get a confirmed signal. There must be someone out there / In that great big universe / Scanning every frequency / For signs of life on Earth... Up to me, I guess. Someone's got to dream.

All I really want to do with my life is write science-fiction. I want to live alone out in the middle of nowhere where I can see the stars every night and write about being out there. I'm homesick for a place I'll never see.

Oh well. Back to cleaning and organizing.