![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ETA:
The swampy Odin/ghost girl story, tentatively titled "Corpselight"
Words today: 300
Words total: 600
Darling: Sometimes Memory wonders if the witch made a charm for the house like she did for Memory, a spell to call it back from wherever buildings go when they die and dream.
Of course, that was 300 words of setting. Perhaps I should try to add some plot or something. Or at least Jormundgandr.
TDC
17/90
Words today: 200
Yeah, suck. Today was one of those days when writing at work just doesn't happen.
Teh glamour: Got my new driver's license today. My hair, realizing where we were, went from zero to frizzy in the 10 minutes I stood in line. Then, I mangled my new signature its first time out. But I didn't mess up the last name, oh no--I messed up Amanda. Yeah.
My last batch of slush was so painful it left me with the burning need to write a drunken writer in a grubby apartment story, just to prove it can be done. Because I was in chat when this need struck, and writers are helpful like cats, I now have an albino authoress named Sue. She draws the line at the grubby apartment, though.
If she comes up with a plot, I'll move her to the front of the line.
The swampy Odin/ghost girl story, tentatively titled "Corpselight"
Words today: 300
Words total: 600
Darling: Sometimes Memory wonders if the witch made a charm for the house like she did for Memory, a spell to call it back from wherever buildings go when they die and dream.
Of course, that was 300 words of setting. Perhaps I should try to add some plot or something. Or at least Jormundgandr.
TDC
17/90
Words today: 200
Yeah, suck. Today was one of those days when writing at work just doesn't happen.
Teh glamour: Got my new driver's license today. My hair, realizing where we were, went from zero to frizzy in the 10 minutes I stood in line. Then, I mangled my new signature its first time out. But I didn't mess up the last name, oh no--I messed up Amanda. Yeah.
My last batch of slush was so painful it left me with the burning need to write a drunken writer in a grubby apartment story, just to prove it can be done. Because I was in chat when this need struck, and writers are helpful like cats, I now have an albino authoress named Sue. She draws the line at the grubby apartment, though.
If she comes up with a plot, I'll move her to the front of the line.