The dream was both the idea in itself--crime fiction, that I can barely remember now--and the fact that I was writing it. I was hurried, I took notes; I fought distractedly with my mother saying wait wait wait until i get this down. The wild happiness of writing encompassed all ( Read more... )

And dammit I know it's a cliché, but it does!

This week went by like nothing. I wanted to, I had to, do so many things that I didn't get done.

( Cut for month before exams' desperation and life getting out of hands. )

( So, I've been thinking about betaing and editing and writing. )

I've been reading x-files ff instead of writing/studying/doing something useful.

( There is such good stuff out there! )

I have just finished reading the first of The Dresden Files books, Storm Front. I read it in two days, but very leisurely. It's a bit formulaic, but not so much that's _lifeless_. I like the characters, and the universe. It's mostly a bit of easy fun; I will have to tell Leo to read it and tell me what he thinks ( Read more... )

Which, you know, isn't that weird, as I dream every night. Though I rarely remember my dreams.

( Anyway, my dream. )