Entry tags:
'turn over your cards.'
Finals-o-meter: three out of four done.
Last one will be tomorrow.
I've been working on the solstice-story requests from last year. On the Any writing is good practice theory I have been avoiding thinking that I ought to be working on The Urban Fantasy Novel. I now have two left I haven't started at all; one that's half-finished; and one that wants revision. Then I can start on the currently-around-twenty requests from this year!
The first few days of writing these, the stories were all very, very short, almost all telling and no showing, just a bit of concept and we're done. Yesterday and today I've only managed to write one each day, but they were both longer--one around a thousand words, one around fifteen hundred--and I'm fairly happy with them. So that was worth it, I think.
Snow of doom did not arrive. We got about half an inch: enough to make the paths pretty and snowy, and not enough to cover up the still-green grass I can see from my window. Not cool, New England weather. Not cool.
(Still, it was enough to creak becomingly under my feet when I went to take a final this morning, which is something.)
Last one will be tomorrow.
I've been working on the solstice-story requests from last year. On the Any writing is good practice theory I have been avoiding thinking that I ought to be working on The Urban Fantasy Novel. I now have two left I haven't started at all; one that's half-finished; and one that wants revision. Then I can start on the currently-around-twenty requests from this year!
The first few days of writing these, the stories were all very, very short, almost all telling and no showing, just a bit of concept and we're done. Yesterday and today I've only managed to write one each day, but they were both longer--one around a thousand words, one around fifteen hundred--and I'm fairly happy with them. So that was worth it, I think.
Snow of doom did not arrive. We got about half an inch: enough to make the paths pretty and snowy, and not enough to cover up the still-green grass I can see from my window. Not cool, New England weather. Not cool.
(Still, it was enough to creak becomingly under my feet when I went to take a final this morning, which is something.)