January 27th, 2016

The Red Tree

"Oh, and what ain't living can never really die."

A few clouds today, but it's not so cold. Currently, it's 42˚F, with the windchill at 34˚F.

I think this will be short.

Yesterday was a slower sort of writing day, and I only managed 727 words. I got hung up on description, in a scene where I'm trying to describe a distinctly alien sex act, involving an ovipositor. And the whole story is being told in some futuristic gangster argot, so there are the usual difficulties of description compounded by the difficulty of conveying the images via a first-person narrative spoken in a fictional dialect.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. We're in one of those stretches that fall "between checks," and this one may go on for quite some time. So, every little bit helps. Thank you.

Later Taters,
Aunt Beast