Play

[desperance]

Well, that's a draft, I guess. I have typed 'Blackout', anyway, at the end of 42 pages. And printed them all out, and flicked through them, and thought 'Bleah'. It's just a load of words. What good are they?

And now I don't know what to do. I was going to listen to the cricket and do virtuous house-things, but the cricket's foul and so's the weather, so running off into town isn't a hugely attractive option either. I suppose I could do the house-things anyway, but there's no great incentive. Maybe I'll just curl up with a good book and a malevolent cat; that we can do. (Oh, shadesong has a link through to a news story about a woman who got mauled doing something so utterly skank that I don't want to link to it directly, it's just too ewwww! for me. You want to know, go seek. I'm fairly sure Barry would have mauled her also, and damn right too. But who knew that about valerian...?)

Comments

[devonellington.livejournal.com]

Congrats on finishing the play.

I wrote 21 pages this morning, Scene 3, which finished Act I. I hope to start Act II tomorrow.

Now, it's back to the deadlined articles that have to go out before I leave for Saratoga on Monday!