I’ve kind of had full-spectrum writer’s block for the past couple of weeks. I haven’t written any new fiction since April 3, after having written every day since New Year’s.

It’s probably not entirely due to Daylight Saving Time, but I don’t think it’s entirely a coincidence either that I’ve felt kind of run down ever since the clocks went forward on April 4.

Maybe I should move to Arizona…

I got a rejection notice yesterday from the Zeppelin anthology, so I’ll have to send the story elsewhere. Unfortunately, there’s going to be a glut of Zeppelin stories on the market for a while.

Though the spring weather was warm, Abner Garr pulled the collar of his coat up as he walked past the entrance to the alley. He paused, turning a full circle to make sure no one he knew just happened to be on the bad side of town this afternoon. If he saw someone, he’d just walk away. So easy to do: just walk away. He should just walk away now, even if no one was there.

He ducked into the alleyway. It reeked of stale vomit, so he breathed only through his mouth. His gorge began to rise, so he hurried to the end of the alley and pounded his fists on the sliding steel door. He couldn’t throw up now — that was for after the Q-shift.
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I got a phone call from the contest administrator today, letting me know that “Betrayer of Trees” is the second-place winner for the quarter. That means a prize of $750, the opportunity to be published in their 2005 anthology, and the chance to attend the awards ceremony in 2005.

Needless to say, I’m very excited about this. [If it's needless to say, why did you say it? -ed.]

UPDATE: Welcome, Times & Seasons readers. Feel free to look around. Because of the lag time between selling stories and having them actually appear in print, none of my stories are in print yet. But you can see some fragments of various stories here.

I was going to write an entry about how the TV show Century City has been keeping me interested with its portrayal of moral issues related to technology, but I just found out it’s being cancelled.

Another one bites the dust.

Since moving here to Utah almost five years ago, I have worked for Direct Connect, Northsky, About, and Primedia. At least, that’s what a look at my paychecks would show. But Thursday was my last day at About Web Services, a division of About, a division of Primedia.

Since Friday, I’ve been working for [redacted], a division of [redacted].

I’m not a job-hopper: I have remained in the same job this whole time. It’s the companies that have shifted around me.

About thirtyyears ago, when my family was living in Venezuela or Argentina, I saw something on TV that really stuck in my mind. It was a movie about a scientist who had invented a machine that allowed two minds to merge. While the scientist is merging his mind with someone else, there’s an earthquake, and both of them are knocked unconscious. When they wake up, they have switched bodies.

For some reason, I found this story very memorable, and I particularly remembered some of the (very low-tech) visual effects used to portray the meeting of minds.

A few years ago, I tried to locate the movie by searching on IMDB. No luck.

I asked on a movie trivia bulletin board. No one recognized it.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, in a completely unrelated search, I was trying to find out the title and author of a science fiction short story. (It turned out to be “Brooklyn Project,” by William Tenn.) I asked about that story on an SF author’s bulletin board (The Rumor Mill, “Looking for a story” topic). Someone suggested that it might have been a Twilight Zone episode. So I looked at an episode guide for the Twilight Zone, but didn’t find it. On the chance that it might have been an Outer Limits episode instead, I checked an episode guide for that show. It wasn’t.
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Please pay careful attention! This means you. Yes, you. Please read the following four words out loud (and no, we are not kidding about this):

KRESPLAP
FURGRIKAT
NOP
DWENT’TAK

There. You remember now, don’t you? If you do, then all is well. Please proceed with the mission as planned.

If you are still puzzled, then please go back and read the words aloud again. This time, try to do it with a vaguely French accent (with perhaps a hint of disgust, as if you were a waiter at an expensive restaurant in Paris who is confronted with an American tourist who obviously has no taste in clothing.) And be sure to pause for the apostrophe in DWENT’TAK for just a moment, but don’t hold it too long.

Did that bring it all back to you? Then you have your orders. Otherwise, please keep reading.

Obviously, among our other problems, we messed up during the briefing implantation. And someone (probably Ungutnol down in Central Processing) is going to be held responsible. But that’s not really important right now. What’s important is this: you have a critical mission, and there’s not much time left.

The beginning of a rather odd story, told mostly in second person. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it.

I was pretty tired when I wrote this last night.

Krelnar and the five others of his party had fought their way deep into the caverns of Dora-Jin when he saw the strange glowing symbols appear to float in the air before him. Simultaneously, an unintelligible voice that seemed to come from every direction spoke calmly and firmly.

Instinctively, Krelnar muttered a prayer he had learned in his youth: “Roleplay mode off.” After a momentary disorientation he realized that he was not Krelnar, ogre warrior

I mailed off my latest story, “The First Ambassador,” to WOTF yesterday.

I’m really hoping it gets quickly rejected — and no, that’s not an April Fool’s joke.

You see, past winners in the contest are not allowed to enter again. I found out yesterday that my previous entry, “Betrayer of Trees,” is a finalist. So that’s two quarters in a row I’ve made finalist, and if Betrayer wins a prize, then my latest entry will be rejected because I’ll no longer be eligible to compete.