Update.

I've just posted a short story that occurred to me one morning in the shower while enduring my usual gloomy forebodings about the end of the world and craving caffeine. I guess it represents the continuation of my obsession with pulling apart the idea of short stories needing big pay-offs that began with Red Shift.

What else? Oh yeah. I don't know if I mentioned it at the time on here, I rather suspect I didn't, but I had some more poetry put up on The Writers' Hub, including my poem 'The Lovers' which is about paintings that want to, ahem, seduce you and 'Man and Superman', which has nothing to do with Nietzsche beyond the title. (It's actually about me watching my son watch the first Superman movie for the first time.) There's also a poem about an anthropmorphic boob called 'Alice's Left Breast'. Plus ça change, etc. All three can be found here. 

Finally, I just last week finished the second and, hopefully, more or less final draft of my first novel (I'm working on another one, and another one kind of, and I have an idea for a super-cool one which I'm itching to start, but oh the time!). Now I have to work out what to do with the first one. More on this later, perhaps.

And so to bed. Or not, as it's only 11.22 in the morning. WHY AM I NOT IN BED?