The problem with getting deep about my writing and choice of genres is that then — if you’re me — you have an incredibly strange week and spend what little time you have trying to catch up on work. And no time whatsoever on writing. And then feel lame because you haven’t written.

So the most I can say for myself is that I’ve thought about my sci-fi short story. I think I’m coming to terms with who the main character will likely be, and where that will lead the story. I can’t say why I’m dragging my feet over it so much; it was inevitable, almost from the moment I accepted that I would try and write this story in the first place. And maybe it’s high time I used her; she’s been waiting a long time, after all. I have one character and one vivid moment — which I suppose would be a scene, Danielle, if you could suffer yourself to label it as such.

The weather here is finally turning to spring, and being out in the (slightly warmer and more effective) sunshine really lifts my spirits. My exercise habits have slumped again under stress and workload (and routine interruption), so I’m having to start over with the walking, accept that I’ve regressed a bit and move forward. “Admit, accept and move forward” is my modus operandi, right now. Everything in my life hinges on my following the above steps; every area, every aspect, everything I’m trying to do. So far it’s worked, and I’ve had a good week or so because of it.

The weekend is already packed and the evening may be as well, but I’m still working on the new masthead. Two hours of CSS, coding and testing is all it’d take (maybe not even that much, but I’m a born fiddler and tweaker, so I try to give myself a healthy margin.) You may see it tonight, you may see it Monday.