Light Reading

    Seems Nature is publishing fiction again. The first story, Olympic talent, can be found here.

Telegraph Poles. Power Lines. "It's Progress."

    Looks like despotic_dreams  is not the only one whose characters are being forced to play cards lately.
    Yesterday I only wrote 31 cards words even though it should have been at least 100, which I'd be disappointed about except getting past that blockage cleared the way for tonight to feature a whole 620 new words. Plus I got to end right before the 'big reveal' so now I get to pretend this is television and you are all on the edge of your seats. Don't fall off!
    Also, the return of Crangil, who was being dreadfully ignored since my re-return to writing (I even nearly forgot him entirely last week)! This time he managed to sneak in an 81 word sentence even though I only let him have one line. I strongly suspect his dialogue will take up an unfair percentage of the finished product, which I certainly did not intend. It just... happened.
    I'm beginning to think this story will not be as long as I said it would be even just a few days ago. There are only ~3 points left to hit before the finale of Part 2 and suddenly very little between me and them. It may end up being closer to 20,000 than 25,000 words. It seems I only break 500 words once a week. If that is how it goes this week too it will not be for lack of trying.
    Then I get to find out if Part 3 will be short because I have so few ideas for it, if those ideas will end up filling a lot of space or if it turns out lots of things need to happen that I'm still unaware of.

    For the record, the Travelling Wilburys band really, really well. In the space of an album I wrote ~500 words, compared to the ~100 of the previous 12 hours.

    And now(ish), this one has to sleep.

This is Lovely

Form Rejection Letter - Philip Dacey

We are sorry we cannot use the enclosed.
We are returning it to you.
We do not mean to imply anything by this.
We would prefer not to be pinned down about this matter.
But we are not keeping—cannot, will not keep—what you sent us.
We did receive it, though, and our returning it to you is a sign of that.
It is not that we minded your sending it to us unasked.
That is happening all the time, they come when we least expect them, when we forget
we have needed or might yet need them, and we send them back.
We send this back.
It is not that we minded.
At another time, there is no telling. . .
But this time, it does not suit our present needs.

Click for full poem and link to the artist's website. Thanks BondGirl|Shaken & Stirred.