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bear by san

March 2017

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new england bare trees winter manchester

every night, every night is just the same.

I wrote close to 6000 words today. I finished a draft of the sargasso lighthouse apocalypse story, which is due Thursday and still needs a title, and I also did all the structural stuff on a piece that's been languishing for a year, which is the bard trolling story. Now it just needs the actual humorous bits.

I'm writing a lot of witty stories lately. But the sargasso lighthouse apocalypse is not that. It is SAD with a SADNESS. I was aiming for lighthearted buddy caper. I seem to have inverted the goal.

I did absolutely nothing else, except shovel the steps and eat some lunch.

Now I'm going to go exercise while I watch Agent Carter. My god, I'm tired.

There was tea. It was Upton genmaicha in the roseconfetti teacup, and I'm too tired to upload a photo.

"That day, Mr Earbrass wrote for so long and so hard that when he stopped he felt rather sick." Yes, I'm misquoting. I'm also too tired to go look it up.
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It's nice that Mr. Earbrass starts his novels in alternate NaNoWriMos.
I heart Agent Carter so much. It is a lovely antidote to all the grimdark cynical TV that is most of what I otherwise watch (because I am a sucker for historical costume porn, and a lot of that stuff is of the Blood, Tits, and Scowling school of TV drama). And yeah, okay, simplistic in its presentation of issues -- but you know what? Sometimes I just want to watch Peggy Carter punch sexism in the face.

And now I realize that, tragically, I have no suitable icon for Agent Carter.
I Am Not A Writer, but based on the ones I know, both RL and online, any day where you successfully write "close to 6000 words" is a day where you get a pass for not getting much else done.

Gods above, Bear, that is impressive.
I suspect that shoveling the steps does not fall within standard values of nothing...