under another sun

Working long and hard on editing two of my stories, The Hounding , and The Meat It Feeds On , and writing the first draft of a new short one called Snowfall . Other bits and pieces too, and sent a manuscript, rather speculatively, off to Gregory in New York. There is something, I have decided, which is very empowering about being 60. It's damn the torpedoes and full steam ahead. Loving reading my book of Ray Bradbury short stories at night. Lorraine coldy and tired at night. I started to read a story but she was asleep in about 30 seconds.

Monday. Back to teetotalism and calorie counting. Battened down the hatches and made lists for my ancient self to work on. All nice things to do, apart from my accounts and stuff like that. Lorraine off to work early. Beth making phone calls and sorting stuff like water bills out before setting off to work in the afternoon. A sense of folding back into my desk. On the buff and polish stage of two stories, The Hounding , and The Bestie, which is now called The Meat It Feeds On.  I read short stories by Algernon Blackwood, Ray Bradbury and Thomas Ligotti. Anton called to discuss the blackwing pencils he had bought me. They are very nice. I sense the dawn of a new stationery obsession. As the day was rainy and uninviting I just popped out once or twice to local shops. Lorraine home with a cold and feeling poorly after work. An early night for all.