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I suck at goodbyes...


"Critique This, Bitch!"
Originally uploaded by Livia Llewellyn.
...so apologies if anyone was perplexed by my slipping away without a word. For those of you who loathed the thought of having to pretend that you'd actually miss me when in fact you never want to see me again - consider this my special gift to you!

Last day of Clarion. We laughed, we cried, we ate, and then we ran with scissors and water pistols (pictures will be posted later). Most of us are downstairs now, playing Mafia in Van Hoosen. I'm up here in my teeny tiny dorm room, making one last blog while Sammy the Ghost packs my bags and pours me a final glass of cheap wine. Because, as I said, I suck at goodbyes.

Tomorrow morning I'll fly back to Newark to my 1000-degree apartment - then I'll immediately go to the nearest store to get an air conditioner. THEN: champagne, chinese food, dark chocolate-cayenne pepper ice cream, and bad movies. All at once.

Sunday is my birthday. I will turn one MILLION years old. I'm probably going to spend the day grocery shopping, and making stacks of books that need to be read. Woo-hoo.

Thank you to all Clarionites and instructors - for telling me when my writing was good, and for telling me when it fell down and went boom. Special thanks to those who told me that I need to tell myself that I'm a good writer. Important lesson, if you think about it. And thanks also to those outside the workshop who sent me letters, packages, and emails of encouragement (or in some cases, emails of OMGWTFBBQ!1!). I return the FISH OF DEATH to buymeaclue with much thanks. It came in handy...

I don't think I'll have internet access when I get home, so I'll post again in a week or so. I need time to decompress, anyway. I'll let everyone know when I post the rest of the water fight photos.

And for those of you who think you might never have the opportunity to attend Clarion, I'm pleased to offer the following, created by Will Ludwigsen. It works best if you're thoroughly exhausted, hopped up on bad coffee, and bleary-eyed from having spent all night writing crappy stories:

The Virtual Clarion Simulator

Comments are back on, so be nice. Don't make my inner Harlan have to smack a bitch. :)

Tags:

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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