Thud: Harvest, Short Story Attack

[leahbobet]

Harvest Update:

Words today: 600.
Words total: 600 MS Word.
Reason for stopping: Add ingredients, simmer on low heat until cooked.
Tea: Cyclone.
Munchies: Rice with soy sauce and garlic.
Exercise: N/A.
Mail: Nomail.
Other Writing-Related Work: Bunches and bunches of critting, bit of slush.
Darling du Jour: Instead, I went down the road to the river, and kicked stones with my callus-hard feet, and cursed the harvest and the drought and whatever lack of sense had made me marry a north-raised, hard-headed, already-pig-stubborn farming man from Tebwai.
Tyop du Jour: N/A
Words MS Word Doesn't Know: N/A
Books in progress: Martha Wells, A Stir of Bones; Charles Stross, The Hidden Family


600 words on a new story with the working title Harvest -- that one's sure to change -- tonight after a round of the picture game in chat. I've set it aside to cook a bit, and probably will pick it up tomorrow after the Claire de Lune words, which have been sorely neglected in this fit of short storyness.

Got Lost Wax onto the right desk before the deadline hit. We did it before and we can do it again / and we will do it again... I'm not entirely happy with it, but I never am the day after I finish something. Other people liked it, so I will have to trust their judgement: I have no perspective until about a week after.

But now I am reasonably relaxed and even cheerful, despite going through the pure fiery hell that was my week: I have tomorrow off, and I have words, and it's quiet and I can do whatever I want. Anything. Ahaha. I survived.

Now, computer games and chocolate. Happy Canada Day indeed. *g*