To write or not to write.
Or: Run away! Run away!

It has become something of a tradition that the last activity at our micro-con is the group creation of a really atrocious piece of bad, BAD fic.

( The activity was preceded by PowerPoint, inevitably. )

We went down to London on Friday. We met F and her boyfriend on the South Bank, where the rain was coming as horizontal stair-rods with hail in them - or felt that way. En route we had stopped in Marylebone High St, where we bought books (Oxfam shop copy of the Folio Society edition of Strachey's Eminent Victorians for three quid, and a hardback of ( Read more... )

Just in case you haven't joined the comm, but might be in Britain in August, you might like to know that registration is open for this year's fabulous Event, in Coventry, at the Ramada Hotel, on August 9th-11th.


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Reasons to be thankful - all beginning with the same letter. The lovely curiouswombat ( gave me W. )

Our internet died yesterday afternoon, and has not made even a ghost of a return. I am sitting in the library at the University, which is a cool place to be, but also my only means of access - unless I go to Starbucks, I suppose - until we get it sorted.

This is annoying as I should have had a Skype meeting last night for writerconuk which I could do nothing ( Read more... )

We are well into our day of talks now, and so far it's going really well.

( Cut for details of the talks and a few pictures. )

We now have a Writercon UK site  on DW.
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I go to all the glamorous places. Back from Long Eaton today - that was a huge amount of fun, though - and off to the Somme and Passchendaele tomorrow. With good boots in case of mud. Not the poppy season though, I assume.

For the minimeet in Long Eaton (between Nottingham and Derby, North Midlands) we all wrote drabbles or brought something along ( Read more... )