Lazy Sunday afternoon

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It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon – well, for me at least – and so, a quiet post. Jessica and Sophie went to a party yesterday, and were delightful. It’s Jessica’s seventh(!) birthday tomorrow. I can’t believe it. I’m older, fatter, balder, and much, much tireder than I was seven years ago, but it’s been quite something.

Since I packed everyone out the door this morning at 11.30am I’ve baked some chocolate muffins, done a few loads of laundry, listened to some Van Morrison, spoken to a couple friends on the phone, done some ironing, and basically taken it fairly easy. It’s been very pleasant. I’m now listening to The Decemberists (one of the few things I’d thank rock critics for of late – along with Sufjan Stevens) . I did notice, btw, that all of the Van Morrison albums from the 70s that I was playing contained less than ten tracks apiece. He was no progrock maniac either. That’s about 35 minutes per album. Brevity can be fine.

Speaking of brevity, I’ve been reading John Klima’s Logorrhea. Put simply, there are some spectacularly good stories in this book. I figure, if you buy all of the year’s bests next year you should end up with about a third of the stories in the book. It’s just easier to buy Logorrhea. You’ll thank me if you do. The Daniel Abraham, Tim Pratt, and Dora Goss stories are well worth the price of admission alone.

Oh, and I’m just about over the flu. This week I’ve got a birthday to celebrate, a party to help run, and an anthology to, like Frankenstein’s monster, stitch together again. It should be fine. I will be at World Fantasy. Come too. We can grab a drink.