Memo to Self:

[desperance]

When issuing challenges that demand the writing of 60K words or thereabouts - the better half of a novel - in a month, it is not a good idea to celebrate with eight or nine pints of beer.

*nods*

*flinches*

*needs coffee*

In other news: I seem to have woken up with a cold. Bloody FantasyCon. All those bloody people needing kissing, bloody bloody...

*coughs*

*sniffles*

In other news: I hate my book. It's all talk, it's going nowhere, I've lost the plot (in a very literal sense) and will something please happen? Please? Look: I have a motorbike! I have a boat! I have a girl with superhuman powers! I have a boy with six fingers on the run from mighty evil beings! I have a blindingly obvious trap he's about to walk into! How can it be this dull?

*sighs*

*goes shopping*

Comments

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Correction - someone will sing her poetry. The music was fab - that kind of jazz that has loose connectivity and very tight rehearsal - tho' I'm not sure that the poems actually benefited from it. Maybe that's just me, but I do believe in the true word unadorned.