Sun, 28 Mar 2004
Coming up for Air
Okay, I got halfway into that story before realizing that it
wanted to be a novella. (Here's a hint: if you're only halfway
in and it's already 8500 words long, it is not a short
story.) So I decided to stop for a while, because, let's
face it, I am tired. A week next Thursday I get to go on
vacation for most of a week (it's the Eastercon,
Concourse), and I've got to write something for the Plokta folks, and I've got to
hand a novel in some time in July, but aside from that I can
take a little time to relax. I think. (Y'see, July's novel is
a cheat -- the first draft is already written. Phew!)
Yesterday was an early spring day, as
opposed to a late winter one: it was warm enough to go outside in
sandals and sleeveless vest, rather than wet/cold weather gear.
Feorag and I went for a walk, and among other things found a
hole in the wall cafeteria/cooperative/talking shop up near
the university that's run by a cooperative of arts faculty
types, has a bolt-on art-gallery and free public WiFi, and
provides halfway decent coffee as well as comfy sofas. This is not your
grandfather's Edinburgh -- all dour presbyterian stone monoliths
and bars full of dedicated heavy drinkers -- it's more like
Berkeley-on-the-Forth. I suspect I may be
spending some time writing there this summer,
if I need to get out of the house (it's a mile's walk
away, and doing that before sitting down to work would be
a good habit to get into), regardless of whatever
John Scalzi says about writing in cafes. (Yes, John, that
was a very bad pun. So bite me.).
Oh yes: I am still buying books roughly four times as fast as
I can read them. What is this a sign of?
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