it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

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Important cultural note

The mourning ceremony for the last Pepperidge Farms cookie in the bag involves consuming the flesh of the revered deceased.

One-Eyed Jack

New Words: 171
Total Words: 50,826
Pages: 227 or so
Reason for stopping: Ehn. I'm putting this sucker back on hiatus until it wants to be written and I figure out what the hell is going on with the ghost of Bugsy and the ghost of Howard. After all, it's not, as truepenny would say, as if I have a bus to catch.
Mammalian Assistance: Ollie hiding under the bookcase. The dogs informing me that dogs have not been fed in this century, and would I please do something about that? Marlowe sitting *in* the plastic bag my sushi came in. Marlowe washing Signy's ear whil she tried to look dignified.
Stimulants: Newman's Own extra virgin lemonade, with sliced fresh ginger.
Exercise: Dancing around the office to JJ Cale
Mail: Sale! *pompoms* (see last rock)
Tyop du jour: nothing
Books in progress: Ed Sanders, Tales of Beatnik Glory , Nancy Milford, Savage Beauty; Bruce Sterling, Heavy Weather, but I'm going to try to finish that last one tonight.
Other writing-related work: Page proofs FedExed back to Bantam, stared mournfully at nonfiction article edits for Reflection's Edge

Poetry Meme:

Yevgeny Yevtushenko, "Babi Yar"

They're coming here?
Be not afraid. those are the booming
sounds of spring:
spring is coming here.
Come then to me.
Quick, give me your lips.
Are they smashing down the door?
No, it's the ice breaking...
The wild grasses rustle over Babii Yar.

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