This means I need to beef up my daily writing discipline, because there's an editor who is actually expecting a new piece from me, and whose plans will be impeded if that piece doesn't get done. That is an excellent thing. I get to rearrange my priorities in a way I'll like better.
Meanwhile, we're recovering from Lunacon. Science fiction conventions always make for strenuous weekends--now I know that going to one with a baby is slightly more strenuous and vastly more frustrating. I tried to bring Gareth along to a couple of panels, but he kept trying to weigh in on the various topics, so I kept having to whisk him out before it stopped being cute. He was particularly interested in the panel on "The State and Fate of Short Fiction," where he waited attentively until all the panelists had introduced themselves and given their opening comments, and then he suddenly let out an "AAAAAAAAGH!" Admittedly, that's a pretty apt description of the current short fiction market, but it was the only point he wanted to make, and he wanted to make it again and again. Whisk!
Next Lunacon, readers willing, I'll have a book to promote, and a toddler. I wonder how that'll go.