Yesterday, I did 1,218 words on The Dinosaurs of Mars and reached the end of the third section, "The Survivor" (note that in my entry of July 5th I mistakenly referred to the second section by this same title, though in fact that section is titled "The Inquest"). So, that's 10,983 words thus far, fifty pages, and I'm guessing a little less than a
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That is very cool.
On the other hand, I have already told subpress that The Dinosaurs of Mars may be my last sf novel, aside from some steampunk pieces I want to write.
Why so?
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Why so?
That's a hard question to answer. Especially hard to answer briefly. Maybe I'll feel different when The Dinosaurs of Mars is done. I might talk about this in the blog...
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I don't demand a brief answer.
Maybe I'll feel different when The Dinosaurs of Mars is done.
Fair enough.
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I don't demand a brief answer.
I only meant that my replies to comments tend to be brief.
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It's really pretty amazing, when you take the time to look.
I saw a fox run across Ponce, near Fernbank, a couple of years ago. And hawks are all over the place.
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About 40 years ago there was a pair of garter snakes (Perhaps the rare ones) and I had a toad for years in the back yard. Earwigs, ants, beetles seem to dominate now. Havn't seen an earthworm for quite a while. I am clearing the debris from the back yard now and hope to make it more friendly to critters. Not the coyote tho, it seems to be eating the cats.
(by debris I mean mostly the widow makers from the pine tree and the carpet of plums from the plum tree.
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VERY random, but it may make you smile.
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