Saturday, January 18, 2003
Usually, when I make it over the wall, I merely fall in a heap on the other side. If I'm very lucky, I can jump clear of the damned thing. Yesterday, I jumped clear. 1,380 words on Chapter Three. It was a relief. You can only spend so many days writing about not writing before it gets extremely tedious; two, at the most. But today I have a dread emergency room scene to write. I hate writing hospital scenes, if only because I hate hospitals. We'll see how it goes. Also, I have to do the very final proofing on TFoC (who am I fooling; no proofreading is ever final) and read more of the Gemma Files collection I've agreed to write an introduction for. That's a full enough day, I think.
The gumbo went very, very well. So well, in fact, that Thryn and I had more of it for breakfast. I ought to post the recipe. I was a little annoyed that the only crayfish I could get were imported from Thailand, when we're up to our armpits in crayfish right here in Georgia; the Thai crayfish were a bit too spiny and not very meaty. Anyway, it was a good evening. I showed a video of a Death's Little Sister show (Nov. '96) to Jim and Jennifer and Byron, and they were very kind and only laughed a little bit. And, of course, there was Farscape, which only leaves nine episodes to go, unless we're very, very lucky.
Time to make words.
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