Shooting the sequel before the treatment's even finished

As if last night's pot-banging to bring back the sun weren't enough, my family and I rang in the New Year with half a dozen metal cooking bowls and one conch shell. So far, the neighbors haven't called the police. I finished my first story of the new year—I had wanted it to be the last story of the old year, but I had to take time out for familial celebration—and now I'm waiting to see if it's any good. And how do I otherwise celebrate the start of 2006? With a meme nicked from docbrite, of course.

The Last Things of 2005 Meme . . . also suitable for filling out in the first few days of 2006.

Last Book Read: Spider Kiss, by Harlan Ellison (a re-read. Last new book read, John C. Wright's Orphans of Chaos).

Last Live Music Show Seen: The Decemberists at Toad's Place in New Haven, October 6th. (Or the Christmas Revels at Sanders Theater in Cambridge, December 27th; but I class that more as theater).

Last CD Purchased: For myself? The soundtrack to Good Night, and Good Luck, I think. Otherwise, the original cast recording of Finian's Rainbow, for my mother.

Last Thing Cooked: Cheese fondue—Emmental, Gruyere, and a lot of white wine.

Last New Thing Eaten: Er. Probably the sushi at Miya's that involves tiny Japanese soft-shell crabs, Havarti cheese, and potato skins. If nothing else, the combination was not one I had experienced before.

Last Thing Bought: A subway token for the Red Line back from Harvard Square.

Last Gift Received: Firewood.

Last Piece of Clothing Bought or Received as a Gift: A pair of seal-brown corduroy pants.

Last Embarrassing Experience: Blithering like an idiot around gaudior and rushthatspeaks' housemates.

Last Totally New Experience: Writing erotica on a cellphone.

Last Foreign Country Visited, if any: Ireland.

Last New Bird Seen (feel free to substitute enthusiasm of your own if not a birder): For the hell of it, what looked like a very lost osprey over the Arlington Reservoir this afternoon.

Last Big Achievement: Surviving this year. As I pointed out, many good things happened to me in the course of 2005. But much of it—especially the last four months—have sucked, yea, out loud. Less cynically, I also taught an entire Latin class: as achievements go, not a bad one.

Moon stuttering in the sky like film stuck in a projector

The story that I finished last night, "Chez Vous Soon," was accepted this afternoon by John Benson for Not One of Us #35. It ended up a far more personal piece than I had intended, but in ways that I hope will not be intrusive for the reader; it is derived from and makes use of the same-titled song that I wrote and posted in November (friendlocked here). It’s also very tangentially connected to "On the Blindside," making this perhaps the first time I've ever successfully linked two pieces.* I don't tend to write recurring characters. Once the story is over, it's over: and whatever happens to them afterward is their own affair. But I am, somehow, pleased to know that not all my stories take place in separate universes—even the ones that actually do.

Unrelatedly, nudibranchs are beautiful.

*I am in process of writing two stories, that may turn into novellas or novels or God knows what, that are both directly linked to "Return on the Downward Road." Neither of these has been completed, however. Fingers crossed that I will have the time.