Mars Needs Maugham
I was snickering to myself on the bus ride to work this morning over the following bit from W. Somerset Maugham's "Of Human Bondage."
For forty-eight hours Hayward lived in an agony of indecision. He had talked of getting occupation of this sort so long that he had not the face to refuse outright, but the thought of doing anything filled him with panic. At last he declined the offer and breathed freely.
"It would have interfered with my work," he told Philip.
"What work?" asked Philip brutally.
"My inner life," he answered.
O satire, how I love thee!
In other book news, I started reading Pat C. Wreade's "The Thirteenth Child" (kindly loaned to us by djstagemanager) last night and liked the opening so much that I read the first chapter aloud to Mr. 42. We haven't had a bedtime story in a long time. This will be fun!
While I was out sick, I managed to write about 1700 words worth of o-fic, which was nice. Figuring out where to start this puppy has been tricky. I am more grateful than I can say to miamadwyn, who mentioned that she helps keep scenes and plot arcs straight by using Post-Its on the wall. Effing brilliant!
Right! Work! Loads of it!
Love to all,
Lib
Mun42
PS A friend on the Social Networking Site that Must Not Be Named posted yesterday afternoon, "It's Wednesday! You know what that means!" I suggested burning Guy Fawkes in effigy and was quickly told off because it was still November 4th in the US. My response:
You may remember the Fifth of November
Commences at 12 GMT
The time of my post was at 12:21,
Or at 4:21 PST.
It's probably cheating to rhyme time zones, but it was too much fun to resist!
For forty-eight hours Hayward lived in an agony of indecision. He had talked of getting occupation of this sort so long that he had not the face to refuse outright, but the thought of doing anything filled him with panic. At last he declined the offer and breathed freely.
"It would have interfered with my work," he told Philip.
"What work?" asked Philip brutally.
"My inner life," he answered.
O satire, how I love thee!
In other book news, I started reading Pat C. Wreade's "The Thirteenth Child" (kindly loaned to us by djstagemanager) last night and liked the opening so much that I read the first chapter aloud to Mr. 42. We haven't had a bedtime story in a long time. This will be fun!
While I was out sick, I managed to write about 1700 words worth of o-fic, which was nice. Figuring out where to start this puppy has been tricky. I am more grateful than I can say to miamadwyn, who mentioned that she helps keep scenes and plot arcs straight by using Post-Its on the wall. Effing brilliant!
Right! Work! Loads of it!
Love to all,
Lib
Mun42
PS A friend on the Social Networking Site that Must Not Be Named posted yesterday afternoon, "It's Wednesday! You know what that means!" I suggested burning Guy Fawkes in effigy and was quickly told off because it was still November 4th in the US. My response:
You may remember the Fifth of November
Commences at 12 GMT
The time of my post was at 12:21,
Or at 4:21 PST.
It's probably cheating to rhyme time zones, but it was too much fun to resist!