Writing News
I haven't posted any writing related stuff since the blog moved, so I figured it was about time. Well, the news is, unfortunately, that there's no news. Blurred Line hasn't moved a copy in about two weeks and "Smoke and Mirrors" is still out in submission land at Strange Horizons. All the time I usually spend writing has been taken up by essays over the past few weeks, though my last paper of the semester is due Monday, so hopefully I'll be able to make up for lost time next week.
No work on Glistening Edges and Right Angles, I'm afraid, save for a few sentences and a bit of editing. The untitled Regular's story has stalled due to the fact that the plot simply hasn't been working itself out for me. Usually, as I write, I come up with directions I want to take the story in and then, how to get from point A to point B. Unfortunately, I've only got vague ambitions at this point.
I did manage to sketch out some ideas for another short story and got down about a hundred words for it in a quick half hour session about a week back (yes, that's how slow a writer I am). Just for kicks, here are all 136 words of it (you can thank me later):
And everything was just perfectly there.
The coffee shop beside the train station. The tall clock in the middle of the square, its face smashed and smeared with graffiti. Random groups of kids playing at dice games. Scuffles that broke out when someone lost. The disoriented tourist, accidentally treading off the main drag. Users collecting at the corners of the train platform, the square, the darkened shops. A place full of corners.
And Morgan, waiting for me in front of everything, superimposed on a moving background of what we’d lived.
“You look like a convict,” he says.
“Glad I look the part.”
“So, how was it?”
“I can think of better ways to spend an afternoon,” I answer. “For some reason, I didn’t expect any of this to be here when I got out.”
Morgan laughs.
No work on Glistening Edges and Right Angles, I'm afraid, save for a few sentences and a bit of editing. The untitled Regular's story has stalled due to the fact that the plot simply hasn't been working itself out for me. Usually, as I write, I come up with directions I want to take the story in and then, how to get from point A to point B. Unfortunately, I've only got vague ambitions at this point.
I did manage to sketch out some ideas for another short story and got down about a hundred words for it in a quick half hour session about a week back (yes, that's how slow a writer I am). Just for kicks, here are all 136 words of it (you can thank me later):
And everything was just perfectly there.
The coffee shop beside the train station. The tall clock in the middle of the square, its face smashed and smeared with graffiti. Random groups of kids playing at dice games. Scuffles that broke out when someone lost. The disoriented tourist, accidentally treading off the main drag. Users collecting at the corners of the train platform, the square, the darkened shops. A place full of corners.
And Morgan, waiting for me in front of everything, superimposed on a moving background of what we’d lived.
“You look like a convict,” he says.
“Glad I look the part.”
“So, how was it?”
“I can think of better ways to spend an afternoon,” I answer. “For some reason, I didn’t expect any of this to be here when I got out.”
Morgan laughs.
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