By the way, my review of Richard Kelly's new film, The Box, is now up at Tor.com. It's hard to say whether this film is worse than the direct-to-DVD S. Darko, mostly because I haven't been able to bring myself to watch the ill-conceived sequel to one of my favorite time travel movies. (I learned my lesson after sitting through The Butterfly Effect 2.) But at least Kelly knew enough to stay away from that one. As a devoted fan of The Twilight Zone and Richard Matheson's ouvre, I had higher hopes than anyone for The Box, but if there's one thing I've learned to live with, it's disappointment. At least I didn't have to pay to see the movie--unlike you, if you choose not to heed my warning.

So, back a while ago I sold a story to Realms of Fantasy. And then, before my story could be published, Realms folded.

I bided my time. I knew that either I'd be notified that my story was released or else the reversion clause would kick in. It was only a matter of which came first. I'd already been paid, which was a plus, but really what I had wanted was that publication! Ah, well, that's life.

Then, much to my delighted surprise, Realms was resurrected! So my time-biding became much more satisfying.

And now the end of my wait is in sight!

My story "The Unknown God" will be in the February issue of Realms of Fantasy, available in fine bookstores starting, Mr. Cohen says, sometime in December.

The Morgan Library in NYC has an exhibition through March on Austen's life and work. Anyone want to go? I'd be interested, but it will have to be sometime after November. No word on whether zombies, sea monsters, or vampires figure into the show or not.

Maybe by the time I go, I will have read more of her books. My love of Austen hinges solely on how much I adore the novel Pride and Prejudice. The BBC production's pretty good too. :)

Well, I wrote a while, and now my brain is crying, “Break time!” So the next logical thing to do is mop the kitchen floor and scrub the toilet.

Uh huh.

So, instead, I’m going to peeve mildly. This is not inspired by any one particular event, it’s a piling up thing. Because I hear it all the time. In the cafeteria kitchen a co-worker will start singing, and someone else will pretend distress at the horrible sound. Or someone will start singing along with the radio and then stop, and say something like, “Oh, how terrible I sound, I can't sing at all.” Or it comes time to sing something, like Happy Birthday or a holiday song, and people feel the need to apologize for their horrible singing voices.

Maybe it’s a product of my own musical interests--I don’t think it is, I think my interests are more a product of my already existing experiences and attitudes--but this just bugs me. It’s pleasant to hear someone sing happily while they work. It’s a very natural thing to do, and it makes me smile. Even back in college, when Jerry the Dishwasher had a tendency to get a single line stuck in his head and would sing it over and over as he swept the kitchen. “Down in the West Texas town of El Paso, duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh.” Brief pause. “Down in the West Texas town of El Paso..." Or the radio ad jingles. "For a hole in your roof or a whole new roof...for a hole in your roof or a..." Not a great intellect, Jerry, and not a great singer. But it was hard to be too critical. You knew when he was singing that he was in a sunny mood, and it's easier to have a good day when the people around you are in a good mood themselves.

And all those people who say, "Oh, I can't sing"? Ninety-nine point nine percent of them are just flat out wrong. Sure, most people won't be onstage singing opera any time soon, but nearly everyone I've heard sing can at least carry a tune. Most of us aren't virtuosic chefs, and yet, when it comes time to make dinner, we don't say "Oh, I can't cook" and avoid cooking, or apologize for burdening the world with food. No, we fix our supper and by and large enjoy it. It ain't cordon bleu, but it tastes pleasant and it's filling and nutritious and no one is hung up about it. The rare person who feels compelled to apologize for the imperfections of a perfectly good meal to the folks sitting around the table are generally regarded as insecure or perhaps eccentric perfectionists. I know one person who does this, and I've never heard anyone chime in with a "You're right, this is horrible, for pete's sake stop cooking!"

But I routinely hear that sort of comment about singing.

Now, there are times when singing is inappropriate. Not all workplaces are like industrial kitchens, and some folks work jobs that require a sort of concentration and quiet that lots of spontaneous song would disrupt--but even then, I'd bet that it's more a matter of staying away from the top-of-the-lungs, we-can-hear-you-two-offices-away range. I'm not advocating loud public singing in every single setting no matter what. But singing is, I wholeheartedly believe, good for you. Please, when someone near you begins to sing (assuming it's not an inappropriate occasion for it), don't give them the reflexive "Aargh, stop!" When you sing, don't apologize! Don't tell the world that your voice is horrible, because it almost certainly isn't. Sing! The world can always use more singing.

Possibly the swine flu, although we were not tested. Both of us did have seasonal flu shots, though, for whatever it's worth.

It came with muscle and joint aches, cough, and fever. My fever went up to about 103. Mike's hasn't gone that high. He's on tamiflu.

I just wanted to let anyone we might have exposed at WFC know. I hope no one has gotten it from us!

Anyone else come home sick? What are your symptoms?