My birthday. It's very early in the morning on this, the most uncomfortable of days. It's still too early to tell how things will go. So far there is no sign of rain. So far there has been no mention of the “birthday.” I think perhaps I hope that it will go by quietly and I can simply get on with my life.

SUPPLEMENTARY

I've just looked over the first few pages of Arumaea. I must say that I think the new way I'm writing is going to make for a much better arrangement. It seems more natural. Oddly enough, this has me rather excited. It all seems new now. Perhaps by climbing inside of the characters, as this new style allows, I am paying attention to detail that I never considered before; things which slipped by me while I was lost within all the heady consideration of technique. I think I had lost sight of the concept; that of telling a story.

Oh, well. It's Saturday. There will be no one at the cafe tonight. If no one comes about to try to get me to go somewhere, which I think will be the case, then I'll go up to the cafe and write. This feels so good that I really think it's high time I got started.

SUPPLEMENTARY

Well, David Faucette called from his girlfriend Tammy's house. The doubles gang is over there and they all called to wish me a happy birthday. Starla just left. She came by for the same reasons. It's nice to be remembered. Damn nice.