Sunday I wrote a little over five hundred words. I lifted, deleted, rewrote and tightened about 4500, so coming out ahead was a small miracle. Except I'm not done deleting.
I was in the car for around six hours yesterday. My clutch-side leg is killing me, from riding it through traffic. The 'stang needs a physical soon. As I expected, I wasn't able to write anything. I did pound out a little this morning, but I can't write at work, so I might not catch up to my writing deadlines until Turkey Day. I'm cooking, but I got a lot done over the weekend, so I'll have a little free time.
Without hockey and with the Bears looking so bad it hurts my eyes, the only sports I can stand to watch are college bowls.
Then, last night, I downloaded 'The Back Passage' by James Lear, as a tiny reward to myself.
I can't recall where I first heard of this author, but I've been looking forward to reading his books. What is it about that slightly amused, facetious and yet basically good humored voice that I find so charming? I've run into it before in gay literature and, believe it or not, in Jane Austin. It's clever and wise but doesn't whine. It isn't sappy or preachy. It's not that it is or isn't politically incorrect so much as it is apolitical. Things are what they are. Life is a great big charming, if sometimes disappointing, story. And in the end its all about getting off.
Throw in a gloriously dead body and I'm a happy reader.
I love it. I'm afraid it's like a candy bar, though. I can't help but read it quickly and then, too soon, I will have read the whole series.
I was in the car for around six hours yesterday. My clutch-side leg is killing me, from riding it through traffic. The 'stang needs a physical soon. As I expected, I wasn't able to write anything. I did pound out a little this morning, but I can't write at work, so I might not catch up to my writing deadlines until Turkey Day. I'm cooking, but I got a lot done over the weekend, so I'll have a little free time.
Without hockey and with the Bears looking so bad it hurts my eyes, the only sports I can stand to watch are college bowls.
Then, last night, I downloaded 'The Back Passage' by James Lear, as a tiny reward to myself.
I can't recall where I first heard of this author, but I've been looking forward to reading his books. What is it about that slightly amused, facetious and yet basically good humored voice that I find so charming? I've run into it before in gay literature and, believe it or not, in Jane Austin. It's clever and wise but doesn't whine. It isn't sappy or preachy. It's not that it is or isn't politically incorrect so much as it is apolitical. Things are what they are. Life is a great big charming, if sometimes disappointing, story. And in the end its all about getting off.
Throw in a gloriously dead body and I'm a happy reader.
I love it. I'm afraid it's like a candy bar, though. I can't help but read it quickly and then, too soon, I will have read the whole series.
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