Jan 5 
           Okay, I've decided my New Year's resolution is to write at least 250 words a day.  Even extremely busy, deathly ill, or uninspired, I should be able to manage that.  Anything more is bonus.  Of course, if I manage to be all three at once...

 Jan 6
           Well, it dumped another load of snow on us last night.  Not that light, fluffy stuff either, but the heavy, hernia inducing wet stuff.  The damn snowplough driver doesn’t even have the decency to wait until you’ve finished and are back in the house before he ploughs you in now, either.  He drove by when I was only half finished, and gave me the finger.  The jerk beat me to it.  Oh well, now I've got enough snow to make a snowman, or add an addition on to the house.  A two car garage would be nice.

Jan 7 
          Whoever it was that said women were the weaker sex definitely doesn't hang out with the same women I do.  Not only do women outnumber men roughly 2-1, but they live longer, and get all of our stuff when we die.  I'm fully expecting a revolution any day now, and in preparation I'm stocking up on chocolate and pantyhose.  Hey, it worked in WWll.  What do you mean they already rule the world?  Oh, man.  I'm so screwed.

Jan 8
          Yippee!! Today I received my first rejection letter of the new year.  And the winner is: The Urbanite, passing on The Shadow Side of God.  Congratulations to all the other finalists, and thanks for playing.  We now return you to our regularly scheduled program.

Jan 9 
          Today I found out that I’ll be attending a course from 12 Feb - 30 Mar.  That means it’s back to straight days for a while.  Totally messing with someone’s sleep cycle is an effective method of softening up a subject for interrogation or brain washing purposes.  If you ask me, they missed the boat.  They should have washed my brain back before I lost my marbles and there was more of it to scrub.  As for the interrogation, does anyone really care anymore where Jimmy Hoffa is buried?

Jan 11 
          I seem to be in writer’s limbo lately.  I’ve got several stories and novels in the works, and I’m at a point in every one of them where I don’t know where to go next.  I haven’t heard anything back about the seven stories I have out right now, nor from the agents I queried about Darkside.  I just emailed one of them, asking about the status of my manuscript, but I dread the response.  I know that’s not positive thinking, but hey, that’s just the kind of depressive, schizophrenic psychopath that I am.  

Woohoo!  It's official.  Karin Lowachee has won the Warner Aspect First Novel Contest!!  We're all so proud. *sniff* 

 Jan 14 
           I’m all out of American stamps, which means I can’t submit anything to the U.S. because I don’t have return postage for the SASE.  Oh, sure, I could buy a couple of IRC coupons, but the Scots blood in me rebels at the very thought of it.  “Here you go.  Here’s eight dollars; go buy yourself three 34 cent stamps and keep the change.”  My grandfather’s ghost would haunt me for sure--provided I covered the round trip fare from heaven and back.

Jan 18 
          Well, that’s another midnight shift done.  I must be getting too old for this, because lately I’ve been exhausted, and about as sharp as a beach ball.  (“Steven, don’t run with that beach ball.  You’ll fall and put your eye out.”   Okay, so mom was a little overprotective.) 
           I finally got up the nerve a while back and sent a polite inquiry to an agent and a publisher who seemed to be holding on to various works of mine for dear life.  I don’t know why I get so worked up.  They--in typical agent/publisher fashion--totally ignored my query.  February is coming up; maybe I should send them flowers on Valentines Day to get their attention.  Or better yet, a groundhog for Groundhog’s Day.

Jan 23 
         I received another rejection for a short story today.  This one in particular depressed me, because from the tone of it, the editor really liked it, but the publisher vetoed it because he had a very specific type of story in mind, and mine didn’t fit.  This almost making it is killing me.  Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.  (Of course, since I’m a guy even that bridesmaid thing is kind of creepy, when you think of it.)

Jan 28 
          Okay, the last shift was a rough one:  An eight hour day, two sixteen-hour days with only eight hours off between them, then another twelve hour day.  I have to stop writing things in this journal like how even with my busy schedule I should be able to manage 250 words a day.  The world seems to conspire against me to make me out a liar. 
           Luckily, I’ve taken a shift off, so I have twelve days leave time to write.  I’ve got a couple of short stories I really should finish up, and I need to get back to work on Darkside 2.  I just decided last night that the first section of my sword and sorcery short would work a lot better with a POV change (that’s Point Of View, for you non-writers).  I don’t think I’ve ever re-written a short story before I’ve even finished it.  Hey, maybe I really am growing as a writer. 
          On the Sock Monkey front, Steve Nagy’s short story, “Sorrow Fruit,” will be published in William P. Simmons forthcoming e-anthology --
Maiden, Mother, Crone: Three Faces of the Goddess.  Congrats, Steve!

Jan 29 
          I’m sitting here late at night, wondering why I just don’t go to bed, and suddenly the answer hits me.  As long as I stay up, it’s just the same crappy day.  If I go to bed, however, I have to wake up to another crappy day.  Now is that fuzzy logic or what?

Jan 30 
          To say that today was just another crappy day would be an understatement.  Today was crap extraordinaire.  First off, we had rain, freezing rain, sunshine, sun showers, and snow flurries.  You find me the weatherman who called that one right, and I’ll personally start his fan club. 
         Next, I went to the gym, did my usual weight routine, then ran for an hour.  You know how sometimes you get muscle cramps in you legs, or your toe?  Well you know you’ve overdone it when your abs knot up. I didn’t even know that was possible. 
         To top it off, when I came out of the gym my car battery was dead.  I had to walk a mile and a half home, sweat soaked, in the rain.  Someone warn me when they decide to bring the MIR space station down, will you.  I just know there’s a piece of it up there with my name on it. 

Jan 31 
         I sent off a query for Darkside to Lucienne Diver, and a short bit of nonsense to Fantasy and Science Fiction.  Then I ran out of envelopes. I’ve got a whack of stamps now, and nowhere to stick them.  (Keep those comments to yourself.) As for the rest of my day, I shovelled the driveway, spent two hours at the gym, did two loads of laundry, the dishes, fixed my brother-in-law’s computer, did the banking, went to the market--just your average holiday.  Oh well, tomorrow I get to go shopping for envelopes.  Sheesh, maybe I should just go back to work!