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Super 8 Is Not Two Grades Above Motel 6

(Saturday, May 14th, 2005; Jon is 35)

Left on Thursday, came home today to discover that, in my absence, I sold two stories. The first, "A Slow Corruption," will be appearing in the small-press mag Inhuman, some time in the indefinite future. The second, "The Book of Ant," has been accepted for the Twenty Epics anthology. This makes me TOC buds with Tim Pratt and Christopher Rowe. Good thing they're there to class up the joint. Also got a third rejection from a market I will not identify, clocking in at 73 days.

It's now quite clear to me: I should leave town more often.

Where did I go, you might ask? Why, to Illinois with Lisa and her parents, to see Lisa's sister Lisa do the graduate walk for her Master's in CSP. That should be it for such ceremonies, at least for a while, and good, says I. Super 8 ain't so super.

Reading: The Time Traveler's Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger. Read this on the plane up and back, and in the middle while cooling my heels in the hotel room. I thought it was funny and cool and sad and very sweet, altho' the scientific explanation behind the hero's ability to travel through time is about as plausible as a ham sandwich's. On the other hand, so what? It's fiction, not the lead article in Nature.