"An aged man is but a paltry thing,

A tattered coat upon a stick, unless

Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing"

--Excerpt--Sailing to Byzantium --Keats

I have in fact sailed to Byzantium. I'm at a new locale across the state where we're temporarily renting. It's been a long time since I had to rent a place. I have a few things to say about property management agencies: The people may be nice, but the process isn't. It's all online forms and fees and show your papers, please, and pay another "convenience fee." Well, I didn't find any of them convenient--and why am I paying a fee for someone else's convenience?

Rather than go off on a rant that no one wants to read, let me update you on the writing front. I've set aside editing Bugs in the System while I focus on some short stories. I have to submit a few to Raconteur and one to Cirsova. I've got a wyrd western I'm about to finish and I'm anticipating a military oriented story, and I want to do a road trip story, and... well, you get the idea. I've got a lot to write and only a short time to do it. Then I'll finish the edits on BITS and make it available.

Don't forget about the flash fiction contest. See the previous newsletter for the requirements.

Help yourself to some Free Sci-Fi and Fantasy

More from StB by Keats:

"For every tatter in its mortal dress,

Nor is there singing school but studying

Monuments of its own magnificence;

And therefore I have sailed the seas and come

To the holy city of Byzantium."