Well, I've not written in days, but that's because I've been working towards the end of a second draft of the next book (the one that comes AFTER the one that comes out in May; really, it just takes forever to put a book out). 

I won't give anything away, because a book needs extreme protection until it's ready.  I won't even say who gets to read the second draft (but it ain't many).  Suffice to say, I'm nearing the end, will get feedback and editing from people whose opinions I value, and then I'll begin a third draft.  That's how this writing lark goes:  Even when you're finished, you're not close to being finished.

In the meantime, I've squeezed in a showing of The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui at the Lyric.  Fascinating production and very well-acted, though I do tend to agree with the critics who wonder why it wasn't made more Africa specific.  Still worth a look, though.

And it's the Oscars early Monday morning.  I got Sky just to watch them.  It's the campest thing I do, possibly the only camp thing I do.  Don't get me started on how much I hate Barbra Streisand...