This is a triumph

Gretchen slept till 8! The latest she's ever slept. Or she might have woken up earlier and been unable to rouse her dead lump of a monkey.

After doggy breakfast I went back to bed, as is my wont, and who did I dream about but Alex and Liz*. They were fighting crime, as is their wont--this time in Russia, investigating blackmail and spooooky disappearances, and an apartment full of bones. The dream had a whole plot, but of course I don't remember that now.

I wonder if that's a sign, or just my subconscious being a brat.

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* For those of you recently arrived, their book has been the bane of my freakin' existence since the fall of 2002. I can't die until I rewrite it and get the suck out.

LJ to the rescue!

lesser_celery (with the fastest page proofs in the west!) has requested a new title for "Wounded in the Wing" (it's a little too similar to something else there), and I'm not in love with the title enough to argue. But I don't have any better ideas.

The title comes from Blake's "Auguries of Innocence":

A skylark wounded in the wing / A cherubim does cease to sing.

The story is about a girl with an angel inside her, an owl-monster, and a couple of kids in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Does anyone have any suggestions?