Feeling a bit low and out of it. Listening to old Little River Band tracks because of something Bob Lefsetz wrote about visiting Australia. He waxes about “Home on a Monday”, not knowing that the Hoodoo Gurus‘ “1000 Miles Away” is the best song ever written about coming from Australia and finding yourself on the other side of the world. There’s a kind of melancholy in both songs, though, and that feeling carried through my reading a Vanity Fair article about Arthur Miller’s son, who was born with Downs Syndome and sent to an institution. It’s very sad, though it says something that his son has grown into the person he apparently has.

Other than that, I’m measuring days to see how they fit the schedule I have. Travel is mostly booked and done, barring some fiddling with details about connecting flights to Canberra and hotels here and there in the US. I’m reading, reading, reading, though apparently nowhere near as fast as the Not if You Were the Last Story on Earth crew, who are trying to find everything published in 2007, or as near as they can. I’ve been reading for year’s bests for a few years now, and what I’ve learned is that no one can read everything (you can’t find everything!) and that no-one agrees what’s good. Still, I am reading some great stuff, often in odd places. I need to tell you about Steve’s So Fey, and will soon. I also want to recommend a handful of odd but interesting things. It’s a good year for science fiction and fantasy, for what it’s worth. More soon.