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Not. Sold.
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Verity's Song
I've been forcing myself to write as often as possible, in particular for a finite amount of time before work in the morning (don't think; write, and especially don't edit). This morning's thing turned into something of a eulogy for a dear, prickly family member who died last week. It's not perfect or polished, but neither was she.
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The Modes of Control
Last night's dreams were all about... consent, I guess.
Dream #1 started with Marty McFly (now at college) on additional adventures, trying to rescue Doc Brown from something or other (along the lines of the Telltale Games adaptation). The adventure itself was kind of long and tedious in the way that dreams can be, but once it was finished, Marty ( Read more... )
