Showing posts with label crud's a good sign. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crud's a good sign. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Wednesdays, however, suck


However, brain has been figuring ways to solve the issues in DTD's beginning, so that's good. Need to sit down with paper and pencil and start mapping a few things visually. Also need to do a little more research.

Fizzling out though was not pretty and left me in a rather aggressively self-destructive mood, which I placated by watching a particularly nasty death scene I can't actually bring myself to watch except with much wincing and covering of my ears... but I figure if I watch the worst that can happen to someone I like, my simple troubles are going to seem like absolutely nothing. Sure enough, it seems to have worked, my life is seeming rosy by comparison, and things are perking up this afternoon.

Movie line that makes me grin right now:

"I never strike my flag for an enemy or a rebel. Now put that in your peace pipe and smoke it."

Friday, July 14, 2006


Dang it -- I did not get the garage sale contest story written. It's still sitting in my brain, but it's missing whatever spark it needs to come to fruition. I have the setting, the events, the character, but it doesn't work yet, not even enough to write a draft of. Sigh.

This is just not my year for short stories. Even my C! fiction is all novella-length.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

feeling no pain

Apricot brandy. Writing.

Nope, the combo doesn't work for me.

An icy snow-laden gust of wind blew across the room, from open window through open door, and Smith shivered. 'My God, it's bitter.'

'Loss of blood,' Schaffer said briefly, then added, unsympathetically: 'And all that brandy you guzzled back there. When it comes to opening pores--'

He broke off and lay very still, lowering his head a fraction to sight along the barrel of his schmeisser.

--from "Where Eagles Dare," Alistair MacLean