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Days are Numbers

  • There was almost a fight at work. I was in the literal middle of it, a non-participant.
  • I finished the 50,000 words, but not the story. Assorted people say it should be a manga. I should be scared? Further updates will be posted to cuttingrmfloor eventually; not all of the 50k are up there now.
  • On the heels of nanowrimo, I have started a crack-story that I call "The Pair", for lack of a better title. I am uncertain if I should take it further than the existing 300 or so words, because it has the potential to be very dangerous (swallowtayle should know that I am not kidding when I speak of fiction as dangerous, as witness ectogenesis and some of the cracked-out events associated therewith; I wish Queenie were in the LJ neighborhood so I could go "Aaagh" at her) but it is on crack and it might get funny.
  • Sis did Thanksgiving here at home.
  • The saga of Sis's car is still on the bad crack. This iteration: the permission slip that didn't get sent home.
  • I have read much fanfic, and joined more communities. I will die.
  • I am still tempting myself with the unread Kushiel's Avatar, which I will read after I have finished the first draft of cuttingrmfloor. Call it incentive. (I got it when V and I went shopping on the eclipse day before she left, and I still haven't read it. Yay, willpower.)
  • I picked up V from the airport, and we did dinner. I'll pick her up before writing group tomorrow. Sis must arrange ride for Saturday and there-on out. Disasters should not strike two households at the same time.
  • Hooray for easalle hitting 80,000-some words! I am truly impressed.
  • I have duly played matchmaker. All interested parties must duke it out amongst themselves now.
  • I am really going to need my weekend conversation with Darkside, just for sheer 'wtf'? and 'argh' and 'I'm glad someone understands where I'm coming from' and all those things where he knows the exact words to say.
  • I need to keep with writing projects, because I like the nanowrimo high. 1,337 + 330 words per day really actually is a sustainable writing level for me, while 3,333 or so isn't.
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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