Originally posted at
Uncreated Conscience.
I’m a bit burned out; I have two editorial letters to write, a manuscript to read and write a report for, and another for one of my newest critique partners. Unfortunately I think I am completely “read out” at the moment. I went through about 100 queries today for El Jefe and my brain isn’t functioning
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And look what was posted right above your entry on my friends page!
http://phillyzombiecrawl.com/index.shtml
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(I was a reader for a playwriting competition for three years. It was always amazing to me how atrocious the vast majority were. Stunning. The minute I read the cast list and it listed the setting as New York-from which city the playwright never haled-and the main character as an artist-but never a writer-I knew that I was in trouble. And it was equally astonishing how many forgot to include contact information. Which saved us the trouble of rejecting them.)
A Plague of Vagueness sounds like a wonderful title for a novel. About what, though?
(Oh-and I've always found erotica inspirational. Haven't you?)
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