Luscious Lyn and I attended my brother Scott’s wedding on Saturday. There’s a lot to be said about attending weddings: the food’s free, nobody can dance better than you, and you get to see at least one person you know being as happy as they’re ever likely to be. Scott’s first marriage was to a person for whom the word psychotic would be a charitable description, so I was pleased to see him marrying someone who genuinely cares for him and loves him deeply.

We also got the chance to take down a few notes for our own wedding. Note number one: no small children as part of the wedding party…


Took a trip down to Scott’s place on Friday afternoon to help with a few last-minute details, and took Blake with me for the run: both he and Aiden think Scott is the coolest guy around, particularly because he’s the only person they know who’s better on the Playstation than them. Blake has an amazing style of conversation. He talks like mosquitoes fly: a million miles an hour and right angle turns with absolutely no notice whatsoever. He’s a fabulous kid, intelligent, personable, and with an astonishing curiosity about everything. All Lyn’s kids are, and I love being around people who get excited about the world. Anyway, the B-Boy and I had exhausted the relative merits of DVD Easter Eggs and what ones you’d get on a DVD about Easter, and lapsed into a short silence, which was broken by the following exchange…

BLAKE: Hey, did you know that there are big blobs of flesh that wash up on beaches, and nobody knows what they are, and they’re called Flubbers?
LEE: Yeah, I did some research on them for a story I’m planning to write. They’re called globsters. Scientists think they might be big pieces of giant squid that have been bitten off by sperm whales.

(Short pause).

BLAKE: Wouldn’t it be cool if you found one floating in space?

God-DAMN. I’ve got to start carrying a tape recorder around these kids……


Have a nosey at Lyn’s blog for this morning’s conversation about Pig-Latin in all its merry forms. I’m sure it depends on whether you’re a member of the Eastern or Western Pig-Roman Catholic Church…


A new week, a new set of writing tasks. It’s been a busy day. So far I’ve: sent a reprint of an old story to an anthology being put out by the KSP; sent Father Renoir’s Hands to Chi-zine, got an email back telling me they’re closed to submissions until September, and then printed it out to send to Weird Tales (2 from my list-o’-13 in one go!); critiqued a story for the KSP SF writing group; read half the Arthur Phillip book I got in Albany for my Nouvelle Hollande research; and arranged the plot cards for Nouvelle Hollande so they stand in some sort of good plot order.

Lots more to do, but it’s nice to get the week off to a good start.


The rationalisation of lives continues at Triffbatt House: Lyn and I are switching over to a new email once we come back from the big Con-holiday. From then on you’ll be able to reach us at emailto://