Alright, I'm back. Sorry for the three-week silence -- just not a particularly eventful three weeks. I did, however, try to pump out 50,000 words for the National Novel Writing Month and so far have generated about 6%. Which I'm not tremendously disappointed with, as I was anticipating strong opposition from my GDMFSOB quality filter that has to have its say in every word that makes the trip from my subconscious through my conscious, on its way to my fingertips. I'm making it yield slowly, but I tell you, it's not like when I was a kid. Back then, I didn't care a bit what I wrote. When you're writing similies such as, "like a cowpoke eating a spraycan on a Tuesday" (short story ca. 1986), your narrative inhibitions are minimal.
Anyway, it's making itself into a story of sorts. All interested parties should click here. I think I'm up to about 10 pages. Apologies in advance to devout Christians.
Oh yes, and Liz Phair was really, really great. How could she not be?