It’s nine o’clock, do you know where your friends are? How about your words? I’m trying to write. Honest. On Eve, no less. But nothing’s coming out. I’d turn to a fanfic if I could think of anything, but nothing’s happening there, either. B in Ohio fell asleep at her desk, gave up and went […]
Quoting from this site: BALTIMORE – For the 57th straight year, a mystery man paid tribute to Edgar Allan Poe by placing roses and a bottle of cognac on the writer’s grave to mark his birthday. Some of the 25 spectators drawn to a tiny, locked graveyard in downtown Baltimore for the ceremony climbed over
Ten Top Trivia Tips about KD Sarge! (according to the chibi of my Weiss group, anyway) 1. Never store KD Sarge at room temperature. 2. Edinburgh imports three thousand kilograms of KD Sarge every year. 3. KD Sarge can run sixty-five kilometres an hour – that’s really fast. 4. A KD Sargeometer is used to measure KD
Moving the office into the main room, the TV out of sight. It’s the way it probably always should have been. I sure hope this works… Of course it’s just another way to avoid writing. But hopefully I’ll also accomplish a positive change. Since Hope will no longer be allowed to eat in front of
Good to know someone understands… Writing a book is a adventure. To begin with it is a toy and amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster
Heh, I feel like Brody in Jaws–we’re gonna need a bigger boat. My dear B has one hell of a weasel. Which I don’t get, because her fanfic is one of the best I’ve read anywhere. She doesn’t want to write for a living, and I respect that (apparently it’s really hard to do 😉
I’m going weasel-hunting. Because my friend who happens to be an awesome writer seems to have an inner weasel the size of a freight train, and till she gets past it, I probably won’t get any more good (evil) writing out of her. (are you reading? You know who you are!) Heh, I even sent