I’ve been over at the Gothic.net boards, lurking (sort of) around the discussion threads about the stories posted. So far, two very positive posts about “When Gods Die.” Perhaps that one hit the right chord for the current audience. I guess we’ll see if comments like those pile up. It’s just nice to have been paid for the story at last. If for no other reason, Amelia G and Forrest Black pretty much rock for that alone.

Since last night, I’ve written over 2600 words for the book proposal of The Secret Project. I’m now writing a sample chapter. I”ll probably write two. I had great trouble picking one from the Table of Contents, as they all looked like fun. I worry that I’m going to offend a lot of people — in particular, a group of people I’m closely associated with. My hostile humor is my Achilles heel. But I’m not being hostile — at least, I don’t think I’m being hostile. I’m primarily making fun of myself in this book. I just hope enough people can get on that bandwagon to make the project successful.

I hope the little black cat who was lost in the hallway found its way home. It’s the same little black cat that likes to sit on the balcony and watch me on the exercise bike in the gym down the hall. He has a relatively clean collar, so he must belong to someone. Poor little guy! Of course, he comes to my door and cries out his furry heart, putting Cairo and Ophelia in a dither. I tried to catch him in the hallway to put him on the balcony, but he was having none of that. Poor beastie!

I’m off to bed.