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Belated writing night update...

Thursday was also writing group, in addition to everything else with Thalia. I showed up half an hour late and hung out. Someone else had already been and gone. easalle showed up around seven, and we went over the latest bit of The Necromancer's Prayer. Not much, just a fragment.

I was stuck on where I was going to go, but by the time she'd shown up, I had smashed past that block (by the simple expedient of just writing whatever stupid next line came into my head) and had just one blank left to fill in: something that Randy was using as an example. She's so very good at the getting into the heads of males. I can write decent males by imitation, but when I really need to get into their heads, I need someone to seriously help me. The solution was delightful, yet still PG-13 or lower (though the source-movie for the pop culture reference is so R).

I got busted for cackling in the library. Ooops. It probably would have looked better if there had been a whole huge group of us around the table, rather than just the two of us leaning over the computer.

We had a fun Coco's night; discussion of Mr. Shallow ensued. Heh. Heh.

The general fun was dampened slightly by me saying some of the wrong things on the way home, but life happens. Agh. I just wish so much of life wasn't interspersed with me putting my foot in my mouth...
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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