A close-up view of the ring that Kent bought for me at World Fantasy Con.

It's official. I've started a new novel. This is the sequel to my first one, A Gathering Power, which I sent off to Baen about an eternity ago. I'm about to send the editor a query but I'd wanted to at least have a chapter or two done on the next in case she asks about it. Besides, it really is high time I started on it, and I've been feeling that Novel Itch. (No, that's not something that can be treated with hydrocortisone.) I'm finding though that starting a sequel is tougher than starting a stand-alone novel, or a first-in-a-series novel. With this one I'm finding that I have to give some backstory just to remind the reader what happened in the first one, as well as do the usual get-the-story-rolling thing. Feels kinda like push-starting a locomotive.

Of course when I said that to Kent he said, "Or trying to push start a dead humpback whale," which really makes absolutely no sense, but it was a good segue into talking about the video of the Exploding Whale.

But anyway, I have about 900 words done on the first scene (though I may go back and add a prologue later.) I figure if I can do 1000 words a day I'll have a first draft done by the end of summer. Gaaah... terrifying when you look at it like that. Pretty huge time commitment. Ah well. At least it's interesting.

I've decided that there are two kinds of assholes. The first is the asshole who simply has zero people skills and no empathy. He (or she) does things or fails to do things without realizing that other people's feelings may be hurt. He is completely oblivious in his assholishness. The second kind of asshole is the one who knows precisely how his actions (or lack thereof) will affect the people around him, and simply doesn't care for any number of reasons.

I've spent the last day or two being Angry with a friend of mine because he was an asshole. (No, it was not Kent or my ex-husband.) Thing is, I'm pretty sure it was the first kind of assholishness, and I don't think he has any clue that what he did hurt my feelings. I'm not really sure which is worse though. I'd at least like him to know that he hurt my feelings. But on the other hand I don't like thinking that it could have been intentional. Frustrating.

I have to stop and thank the powers that be that I do not have the name of anyone famous. Or infamous. We had a player in the casino the other night with the name Michael Tyson. I asked him if he ever got teased about his name. "Every day of my life," he replied miserably.

Best of luck to fellow NAWers Jenn and John who are applying to Clarion. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you! (Well, not when I type.)