As of yesterday at 3:00 p.m., my summer is officially over: classes started up again. The one class I had yesterday went very well. I met a bunch of interesting-looking people, said hello to some others I haven't seen in a while, learned something new, and got myself committed to a whole lot of work. I've always had a problem with volunteering -- whenever people are looking for help, my hand seems to rise all on its own -- which usually gets me volunteered (it can be a very dangerous habit in meetings). Well, yesterday in class it happened again. Our prof asked a question of us all and yup, my hand went up. Apparently, I've committed myself to writing another novel. Stupid hand.

Seriously, I'm cool with that decision. I think writing novels is easier than short stories and this choice allows me to focus on one project as opposed to four over the course of the year. My one problem at the moment is trying to figure out which book I'm going to write. I've got a handful of ideas on the go and of course, I'd better decide pretty quickly. We have to give an hour-long presentation on the book we intend to write to the class very soon.