"Gretchen & Tamara Go Bowling"
New Words: 323
Total Words: 396
396 / 7,500
Reason for stopping: End of scene. Still have no plot.
Mammalian Assistance: ashacat's felinoids ignoring me loudly
Stimulants: orange stir-fried chicken
Exercise: dump run. bicycle.
Today's words Word don't know: nubby, curveless
Tyop du jour: n/a
Darling du jour: "a metaphor more ironic than prophetic"
Books in progress: Alastair Reynolds, Century Rain
Interesting research tidbits of the day: n/a
Other writing-related work: I queried the New Yorker (again) on a story they've had nearly a year.
This would be easier if I had a plot, but I am determined to get something done no matter what. I haven't written since December, and it's getting old. I want to finish this story, and "Love Among the Talus," and "Paddareen," and "Chatoyant," and "1796," and "The Death of Terrestrial Radio," and "Babylon, and On."
And then, when those are done, I will be allowed to start some of this other shit. Like "King Pole, Gallows Pole, Bottle Tree." Which is being shiny at me, but I am not starting another short story. And "On Safari in R'lyeh and Carcosa with Gun and Camera." Because I bloody well like finishing things, and I want to get my desk clean before I really start on undertow.
Of course, I'd prefer it if I were producing anything but thrashing at this point. I kind of had a plot idea for the hound girls, but it was pretty trite. So I threw it out. Nobody needs another demonic anorexia story.
*sigh* I think I've run out of stories for the time being. This is very frustrating. I have characters and settings. I just seem to be lacking in problems for them to solve. Maybe I'm broken.
Hmm. That would be inconvenient. I might have to get a job.