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Michael Swanwick reading

This evening a group of us went to Archive Books, where Michael Swanwick read his short story "Triceratops Summer" (downloadable from Amazon.com for 49 cents, and I highly recommend it), then signed books and told some rather entertaining stories about writing and hanging out with paleontologists. I learned that Australian dinosaur scientists love beer. Clearly I must move to Australia, immediately.

Tomorrow my flash story will be critted in the workshop. I'm not worried about the other students' reaction to the story - it won't be any big deal if someone says "I couldn't read this" or "I don't feel comfortable critiquing erotica". However, the thought of Swanwick ripping me a new one makes me sick to my stomach. He's already mentioned that he doesn't particularly like us handing in flash fiction, since there's so little of it for him to work with. Less writing = less to be able to teach me with. I understand what he's saying, and agree with him for the most part. However, I write flash, I want to write better flash, and it's a form I want to write a LOT in. That's why I turned it in, and wanted it critiqued. But he's not going to be happy. And he's not going to sugar-coat his unhappiness.


Anyway, I'm having a little freakout right now. Didja notice? I betcha didn't notice!! So instead of doing anything constructive, I'm watching episodes of "Clone Wars" and drinking rum and coke. Because that's what real writers do: drink, bitch, and procrastinate. Clarion is teaching me so much!


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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