Right now, I'm not sure if I feel more like I'm going to vomit, pass out, or suddenly come apart in a cataclysm of protoplasmic, subatomic reversal. I might have slept two hours. When I got up at 8 a.m., there was just enough snow on the ground that it was pretty. Now, there's only a quickly melting scab. But it was our first snow of the winter,
(
Read more... )
Comments 13
Reply
Complicated.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
as an author, I have always striven to capture a sense of place and a sense of time. Those things are of utmost importance to be, second only to characterization. Silk and Threshold are the Deep South in the early nineties. But every novel after them I've had to, increasingly, combat this problem. With The Red Tree I tried to mostly ignore it. With The Drowning Girl I did a bad job of making now feel like now and painted Imp as someone out of time (in contrast with Abalyn).
I just don't know.
Reply
Reply
I was trying to visualize what that Dodo would look like and decided it would be a Dada cybird.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment