Some stuff

What's up with Oliver? He's sitting up. See?



And doing other developmental stuff; checking with his mother when a stranger appears, picking things up with his thumb and forefinger, lots of babbling, and all the like. Hair hasn't fallen out, eyes (gray) haven't changed color yet, so many old wives seem to be spreading information of dubious quality.

Speaking of information of dubious quality that is not at all financial advice in any way, I've been noticing a lot of my writer contacts online sweating taxes. Most of them are Turbotaxheads, and they mostly seem to wait for everything—1099s, etc. to come in before starting their taxes. What I've been doing is setting stuff up in February and when anything new comes in, I turn on Turbotax and just enter it. Then on days when nothing comes in and I have a bit of time, I'll add up one pile of receipts (e.g., plane tickets, book purchases) in an evening and input that. When I don't receive 1099s, I know how much to input thanks to normal record-keeping. It just seems much less stressful to do taxes in bits and pieces. Anyway, I finished my taxes in late February.

Speaking of, I got a surprise royalty check yesterday, from an essay I wrote on the first Anita Blake book for the essay anthology Ardeur. I've participated in something like fourteen of those pop culture anthologies, and this is only the second to earn out. (The other was the one on House, which sold to a foreign territory to earn out.) And it was a decent little check too—enough for a dinner for two at a place with metal forks (but still paper napkins), I mean. Little surprise checks are always the best. They say, "Hey, remember that thing you did once? Remember that person you were? This is a message from that distant past: go buy some socks."