Yesterday, I did 886 words on "Untitled Grotesque" and found THE END. It's a curious sort of a story, but then most of them are. It has more humanity than I expected it to. And more perspective. This morning, I think the ending might have me thinking about that final scene in Orwell's Animal Farm, with the pigs and humans become indistinguishable from one another. I suppose if "Untitled Grotesque" is about anything in particular, it's about voyeurism, a subject I think I last addressed directly in "The Voyeur in the House of Glass" (Sirenia Digest #13, December 2006). Today, I need to send it off to Vince to be illustrated.
And now it's back to the final edits for the 3rd edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder. Commas. Em-dashes. Word choices.
This is one of those mornings when I just can't seem to make the life of this writer any more interesting than it actually is. Oh, sure, I could get started about all the people on Second Life with drag-queen names. Like Lawna Mower. Just saw that one late last night.
Ah, I know. Here's a funny little thing I picked up from nineweaving:
Write yourself a dating ad.
1) It has to make you sound as unappealing as possible.
2) It has to be honest - you can't lie at all.
3) It can't sound as though you're deliberately making yourself sound unappealing.
Not that I need a date. Because, you know, Spooky would have me flayed (and not in a good way). But. Just for the sake of ending this entry on a remotely interesting note. Let's see:
Polymorphously perverse parahumanoid lesbian witch seeks wealthy companion of any gender. Must have infinite patience. No weirdos.