Back home from Washington DC. On our last day it was bitterly cold -- we stopped at Filene's Basement to buy gloves and earmuffs -- and we visited the lobby of the Willard Hotel (said to be the place where the original "lobbyists" hung out) and the National Building Museum, which had an amazingly impressive atrium and several keen exhibits including one about David Macaulay. Then we flew home, uneventfully. That was Monday.
We've spent the last couple of days mostly scrambling around to try to get everything done we didn't do during our week in the nation's capital and getting ready for our next trips. I'm going to RadCon, where I will be Short Story Guest of Honor, and Kate's going to a knitting workshop in Tacoma.
On Tuesday we saw an excellent production of Twelfth Night (the funny parts were actually funny, the songs were left in and actually worked, and Viola and Sebastian actually looked a lot like each other). Before that I got in an hour's work at the coffee shop, where deborahlive stopped by and handed me a copy of Space Magic. It is an actual book! And the cover is even more goreous in person! There are still a few glitches inside, but copies of this preview edition will be available at RadCon.
Note that I said "an hour's work" rather than "an hour's writing." My goals for February are in revision hours rather than words written -- my goal is an hour and a half per day but I'd really better do two hours or more every day if I'm going to get this thing revised and the synopsis written by the end of this month for an April novel workshop. I didn't do any writing work while we were in DC but I did an hour and a half on the plane and have kept up at least that pace since. Don't know if I'll be able to keep it up while I'm at RadCon.
Today: more errands, more editing (two hours, and now I've got all my notes from chapter critiques typed up), and our virtual Valentine's Day dinner, as we will be apart tomorrow night.
One last thing: last week we met with our lawyer to add a clause to my will about what should happen to my creative works in the event of my death. Nobody likes to think about this sort of thing, but every writer needs to do this. Neil Gaiman explains why, and provides a sample will. Don't put it off.