Happy Birthday Dad

My father turns Sixty today, so I’m going to take this opportunity to wish him a very Happy Birthday. Given the health problems he had towards the end of last year, turning sixty isn’t something we take for granted in our family anymore.

The rest of my family is already in a resort up on the Sunshine Coast, kicking the celebrations off early. I’m stuck in Brisbane until lunch time, but I’ll be disappearing after my shift at the dayjob this morning to join them.

In theory I’ll attempt to do some writing – I’ve packed Fritz the Laptop – but in practice I expect I’ll be spending time with my dad for the next 48 hours or so. We are, after all, very glad he’s around to spend time with after his  heart surgery last year.

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In totally unrelated news the web version of The Birdcage Heart went live over on the Daily Science Fiction site, for those who weren’t subscribed to the email versions last week.

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The Brisbane summer seems to be making a resurgence this week, assaulting us with the heat and humidity that has long been part of living in the city. This year summer’s been relatively mild, lacking the kind of punishing days where I turn into a puddle on the floor of my apartment, but they’ve made up for it now.

I am not a fan.

Having lived in Queensland my entire life, much of that near the coast in one form or another, I’ve always preferred winter to summer. Summer makes me sluggish and unwilling to work, and the food is generally worse, and I’m not a big fan of shorts.

I’m counting down the days until we’re done with Summer, and I’m dreaming of living somewhere colder.

Not that this is surprising. I do it every year.

Don’t look at me, I didn’t buy him the eyeliner…

So last week I started working on a story about a man with a birdcage full or sparrows instead in of a heart and the question of what happens when you swap out the sparrows for something else. It ends badly (because it’s one of my stories and they almost always end badly), and there is heartbreak (’cause, again, I’m writing it…), and last night I finally hit the end of the draft and said “oh, well, that’s done.”

It’s not a terribly good story yet, and may never be, but there is rewriting to correct that problem should I decide it has the seed of a good story in there.

The important thing is that it’s done, because that’s how The Fear is combated – you crush it beneath the weight of endlessly finished drafts until it gives up and goes away.

And because I was the model of writerly virtue yesterday, I’m going to go collect mail this morning.

Current Project: Getting Back to Basics
Number of Stories Submitted in February: 0 of 8
Rejections Accrued in 2010: 0
Consecutive Productive Writing Days: 1
Days without coke and other soft-drinks: 3
Days without chocolate: 6
Today the Spokesbear is: getting his emo on.