"Building towers, foresight isn't anything at all."
Another overcast rainy day, the fourth in a row. There was, early this morning, very briefly a shaft of sunlight, and for a few seconds it helped my mood. But then it was gone again. Currently, it's 69˚F.
Today, I wrote 1,903 words on "Refugees," and afterwards I typed THE END and added a dedication. But I felt like I was stumbling over the finish line. We're going to read through the whole story on Friday (the first chance I'll have), and I fear I may have to pull that last scene completely apart, the stuff I wrote today, and do an actual rewrite. Right now, the story stands at 10,843 words. The contract called for it to be at least 10k. By the way, this is the story for the free chapbook accompanying Comes a Pale Rider, the new Dancy collection forthcoming from Subterranean Press in 2020. Someday, I hope, there will finally be a single definitive text that includes every single Dancy Flammarion story, with no orphans stranded in chapbooks.
I still need to email Jonathan Strahan.
Yesterday, an episode of Nature on feline evolution, "The Story of Cats: Asia to Africa" (it really wasn't very good). After dinner from Greenwise, we finished Season Two of Peaky Blinders and began Season Three.
Spooky says she's made the last of this year's Halloween ornaments, so what's in the Etsy shop right now is all there's gonna be until September 2020. And she'll be taking down whatever doesn't sell after October 31st, so consider yourselves forewarned.
This afternoon, I left the house for the first time since I got home from McWane last Wednesday, but just long enough to get this really dismal photograph. Knock yourselves out.
Later,
CRK
1:15 p.m.
Today, I wrote 1,903 words on "Refugees," and afterwards I typed THE END and added a dedication. But I felt like I was stumbling over the finish line. We're going to read through the whole story on Friday (the first chance I'll have), and I fear I may have to pull that last scene completely apart, the stuff I wrote today, and do an actual rewrite. Right now, the story stands at 10,843 words. The contract called for it to be at least 10k. By the way, this is the story for the free chapbook accompanying Comes a Pale Rider, the new Dancy collection forthcoming from Subterranean Press in 2020. Someday, I hope, there will finally be a single definitive text that includes every single Dancy Flammarion story, with no orphans stranded in chapbooks.
I still need to email Jonathan Strahan.
Yesterday, an episode of Nature on feline evolution, "The Story of Cats: Asia to Africa" (it really wasn't very good). After dinner from Greenwise, we finished Season Two of Peaky Blinders and began Season Three.
Spooky says she's made the last of this year's Halloween ornaments, so what's in the Etsy shop right now is all there's gonna be until September 2020. And she'll be taking down whatever doesn't sell after October 31st, so consider yourselves forewarned.
This afternoon, I left the house for the first time since I got home from McWane last Wednesday, but just long enough to get this really dismal photograph. Knock yourselves out.
Later,
CRK
1:15 p.m.