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To Begin With
February 1
[Once more I had trouble with Geocities, once more I wrote this last night, and am updating it today]
9:30 p.m.
Huh. It's 9:30 p.m. First night of the Dare.
I haven't written a word yet.
Guess I'd better get a cup of tea, a bowl of popcorn, some Aimee Mann on the stereo, and get started.
See you soon.
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10:49 p.m.
Okay, that's all for tonight. Two cups of tea, and we progressed from Aimee Mann and got into Ani diFranco. Not a bad beginning to the dare, wordage-wise, especially considering my late start. I'm working on the fable, the one that begins with the man in the dangling cage telling some boys a tale. It's a fantasy. Right now the setting is sort of a vague European medieval thing-- it'll become more particular as it progresses, or at worst in revisions. Here's an excerpt from what I wrote tonight:
"You'd better hope I'm not mad," she said, her voice low again, and serious. "Because if I'm mad, you're going to eat that owl-- beak, feathers, and all-- on a madwoman's whim, and have nothing to show for it but stomach cramps and shit that cuts you."
I like the woman who says that. She's pretty interesting.
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Tropism's going to be moving to sff.net sometime within the next few days. I'll point you all in the right direction when the time comes. No more ads! No more weird, capricious actions from the Idiot Gods of Geocities! Hurray!
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Meg wrote me this today, in response to yesterday's entry:
I just read your latest journal entry. Tease. Send me the rest of all those stories now. Right now. All of them. The entire stories.
That's the kind of response I like to receive.
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I went to Bookshop tonight and bought Joe Lansdale's Freezer Burn and Charles de Lint's Greenmantle (an old one I've never read). Why did I feel compelled to buy books the day my Dare begins? It was hard to stop reading the de Lint book and get started on writing. I'd intended to begin typing earlier, but you know-- sometimes life happens. Or, in my case, sometimes laundry and grocery shopping and reading books happens.
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Sorry for the scatterbrained entry tonight, lovelies-- my mind is still in a dark cave underground, with the stink of rotting furs, and a bird on a platter... I'm glad I chose to do the Dare this way, with short stories. There's a dark and lovely series of wonderlands ahead of me this month.
If you're so inclined, send me mail. |