Toronto was quite cool. I didn't get to see karine or other because she had plans and he was sick, but that's ok because I hadn't exactly warned either of them in advance. I did get to see Velvet Delorey, of Branch Riddellian fame, and that was very cool. E, Karin Lowachee, delavagus, Helen Vorster, Charlie Finlay, Steve Nagy, S.K.S. Perry, and a couple of Rog's friends were there, and I hadn't seen any of them since Chicon 2000, so it was good to catch up.

I always come away from these conventions feeling motivated. I am bad about organizing my time, and this semester more than ever, organization is necessary. So here are my plans.

Tonight and tomorrow, I am going to finish "Laid". I do not care if it sucks. I want to have it done in time for the Iowa City critgroup's meeting. I will workshop it on the Sporkshop and DRDWW and other people can tell me how to make the suck parts not suck.

Wednesday after the SiF meeting, I will stick around at the Mill or go to the Java House and do this week's CW assignment.

This weekend, I will get the hell going on "Walter Rides Again". It needs to be done by the first Thursday in March for my CW class, so I will work steadily on that until then. Must also knock out that piece Amy Sterling Casil wants for Knife in the Eye!.

Then, in downtime, I will finish "A Solicitation of Fairies" and "One Last Thing After You Go", keeping up with CW-class assignments as necessary.

I will spend the end of April and the beginning of May on "Lives of the Suburban Cave Dwellers" or whichever other story I decide to do for my portfolio.

Then I will go home and do nothing for two weeks.

Then I will go to boot camp. I will take lots of paper with me in the hopes that I can get something done, but I will not expect anything out of myself.

And then it will be time to tackle the novel for real.

And here I was a bit mopey over the fact that "Pale Foxes" didn't get nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Come to find out that, of all things, Raechel Henderson Moon nominated "Antfarm" for it instead.

Whoda thunk?