Rewrites, Rain and Puppies

Monday, July 09, 2007, 9:41 PM

I haven't posted for a while 'cause it's been mad season around these parts, what with work and various other things.


I've spent the last week gearing up to start the second draft of the WIP. I've gone through all the comments provided by my kind beta readers (a surprising number of which happen in the same places, and even a few times with the same words!) and noting what I might do about them. There's more work ahead and I'm looking forward to getting stuck in. I posted a short story featuring a cameo from the WIP's protagonist over at the Crapometer to an extremely mixed response. I got some of the most glowing praise I've ever received and some of the most blunt critique. So, who's right? I guess, as with most things in life, the truth is somewhere in between. What I do know almost certainly is that the story didn't quite stand on its own - though I think it still has its merits as a companion piece to the novel.


I am sick and bloody tired of all the rain. It's been going on for weeks, now. Thankfully I haven't been affected by the flooding, but a few people across the Irish Sea in Britain have been killed, and a huge amount of damage has been done. It's been constant, just one deluge after another. Really, enough is enough. No more rain. Please.

Oh, and if you think climate change isn't happening, then you're an idiot. If two months' worth of rain falls in a couple of hours, something is clearly up.


I almost bought a dog over the weekend. I've been thinking about it for a while and had been researching various breeds to see what might suit. I'd like something pretty small as I live in town, though I have a decent sized garden, but I didn't want something that would make me look ... well ... gay. I'd kind of settled on the idea of a Bulldog because they're fat, lazy bastards, which would probably suit me to the ground. Anyway, on Saturday I went to the local pet store to buy feed for my Cockatiel, Django, and they had a litter of Miniature Jack Russell puppies (apparently Miniature JRs aren't really a breed, they're just short asses) that were just six weeks old.

I could have eaten them, they were so cute.

I talked to Anne, the nice pet store lady, about it. I came home and did some more research on it. As much as I wanted one (and I mean waaaaaaaaanted one) I had to be sensible. JRs are apparently little dynamos, and hate to be left alone. The deciding factor was my existing housemate, Django. Django is a small animal. Jack Russells are bred to hunt small animals. I didn't want to arrive home one day to find my new friend with feathers stuck between his teeth and a look on his face that says, "Wasn't me."

So, no puppy for Conduit.



Blogger Chris said...

I think the knock that the story doesn't stand on its own is a fair one, in that it alludes to a broader story, but I liked it as a stand-alone as well. Of course, if it were me, I'd submit it and make an editor reject it -- why do their work for them? After all, you never know.

And as far as climate-change, my nation's fearless leader says it doesn't exist, so that must be that. Wait, I think I meant feckless. No, brainless. Oh, shit -- there seem to be some men in suits knocking at my door...

12:51 AM  
Blogger sex scenes at starbucks said...

Yeah, the jack russel next door to us was a total pain in the ass. Most small dogs are, especially full-bloods. Get a small mutt.

6:44 AM  

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