If you break the bloody glass, it won't hold up the weather

[desperance]

God, but it's foul out there. Wind and rain and oh, tell you what, have some more wind...

I was going to go out, go into town, do some work in the Lit & Phil. Uh-uh. There's enough bitter draught coming through the door; I'm not opening that thing, let alone stepping outside it. I have turned on the gas fire, and I will find things to do. Hell, I might even tidy some corner of the office...

I have - you may gather - finished draft two of the play, for values of 'finished' that mean I've converted it to .doc format and sent it to my director and a friend who's offered to read it for me, with eyes that know whereof they speak. If you see what I mean. I did end up adding two new scenes in the end, which stretched the piece by fifteen, maybe twenty per cent in this draft. Might take it all out again, though. One of the interesting things: even as I worked my way through it doing this, finding ways to build, I was very aware that there was a whole nother draft I might have been writing, that would strip it down bone-bare. Talk about seeing the skull beneath the skin...

Also, I must write an e-mail to China, to answer various questions put to me by a student. I know other writers regard this frowningly, as doing kids' homework for them; but hell, it happens so rarely for me, I'm still excited by any contact with readers. Besides, she's Chinese; I may have questions of my own...

Also I must, I must send out an e-mail to all my contacts, to let them know that Phantoms at the Phil vol two is now available. Not everybody reads my LJ, shock horror...

And that makes five paras ending with ellipses, which is probably three too many, and a sure sign that I'm not exactly focused here. But you knew that. I have sent a piece of work away, and not yet engaged with the next; I drift. Emphatically. Unellipsed.

Comments

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Yup. It's all choices, thousands upon thousands of them, from every little word to the overall sweep and movement of the piece. It's no wonder I'm so indecisive in real life, my choosing-muscles are just plumb tuckered out...