A lazy Monday

I didn't do much today, although I did get some actual work done.

First, I played some video baseball. And won! Then I read some of Bird by Bird, my newest book on writing and fell in love with it. Then I read some from Donald Maass' Writing the Breakout Novel.

Then I felt a bit guilty and actually went to work. First, I did some minor polishing on The Devil You Don't Know, based on some early feedback from betas. Then I spent about an hour online researching New Hampshire, specifically the small town of Exeter, where my next novel is partially set. There's no community college in Exeter, so I created one. I even found a bare, wooded spot just off the freeway in which to locate it. My apologies to whomever actually owns that land. But hey, that's the magic of fiction, right?

Then I started working on the new novel and managed to knock off a decent start to Chapter 2. It's not great, but it's something to work with tomorrow.

Oh, and I spent a great deal of time on my cell phone, talking to my 19-year-old son Zach, who decided to drive to Chicago this morning with two girls to "hang out" for a couple of days at a friend's place. While I hemmed and hawed and acted all fatherly, I was secretly envious of him. Oh, to be nineteen again and just head off on a adventure. I remember it well. Sort of. My memory of anything that happened to me between the ages of about 14 and 27 is hazy to say the least.

Oh, and he got lost. Big-time lost. Somewhere near Bolingbrook, as best he could tell. When I talked to him a couple of minutes ago, they were lost in McCook. Which is, if I'm not mistaken, somewhere near Bolingbrook.

So they haven't gotten very far. Oh well. They'll find it. Or not. As long as he doesn't find himself in the Cook County Jail, he ought to be fine.

And the wife is a bit miffed with her search for a roller derby nickname. It turns out there is a huge national database of registered nicknames (who knew?) and most of hers are already taken -- including the wonderful Punky Bruiser.

Damn it. Oh well, we might go with Gina's idea -- Ghengis Mom. It's not taken. But now that she can't have Punky Bruiser, it sounds like the coolest derby nickname ever.

Well, I'm out of here to make dinner. Sorry for the slight, rather rambling post. Just not much going on in my life today. And that, my friends, isn't always a bad thing.

Until tomorrow.