I had all sorts of plans for this little end-of-the-year vacation. Being bedridden with fever and congestion was not on the list, I swear. Nonetheless, that's what's happened. Anita's had a rough time of it too — this was definitely the Plague Christmas at our house. We were up late last night together, me reading the latest Harry Dresden volume — my favorite character in this one is Cat Sith, paws down — she reading the complete set of Colleen Doran's A Distant Soil I got her. That was nice.
During the height of my illness I read the novel Let Me In (a.k.a. Let the Right One In). It's much darker, more depressing, and way, way more grotesque than either of the movie adaptations. Suited my state of being perfectly.
One thing that I'm grateful for, is that my editorial team and I responded to the overwhelming majority of the Clockwork Phoenix 4 submissions before the plague storm hit. One of my grand plans for this week had been to figure out what my contracts should look like so I could start accepting stories. (And also maybe laying out the Cherie Priest chapbook. And maybe drafting a new short story of my own, a companion piece to "Ivy-Smothered Palisade." And, and, and.) So everybody please bear with me. We'll get this list ticked off yet. (*cough, cough*)