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Please let it be Friday now

I feel like I've lost a day, and I know I haven't, but it's pretty much S.O.P. for me here. I always wake up thinking I've missed class, and I'm always in a low-grade state of panic about how much reading I have to do. As of tomorrow morning, I will have read and critiqued approximately 115,000 words. I've written 1000 words so far. Ugh. A group of people are going to see "Superman" tonight, but I'm staying in the dorms and writing. My greatest fear about Clarion is that I won't finish a single story, so I'm desperate to get to the end of at least one piece.

I forgot to mention that I had my one-on-one with Chip Delany on Tuesday. He wanted to know a bit about my background, where I thought I'd be in ten years, writing-wise ("er, naked and bleeding in the gutter with an empty whiskey bottle and a half-written novel clutched in my broken hands? idunno."), and if I had any questions for him. We talked a bit about writing erotica, and about my problem with what has been called "tricking the reader" or "unethical writing" on my part - because I often place important character information at the end of the story, instead of presenting it up front. I don't deliberately set out to trick anyone, but I do need to better understand that at my writing level (which is low), withholding information isn't clever, it's just me trying to be the smartypants author. And I don't have the genius necessary to pull smartypants off. [Insert stripping joke here.]

Must. Read. Stories. Must. Drink. Coffee. Must. Stop. Panicking.



Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.

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