(this has been a nice run)
my flash fiction “salmacis” is now up at mirror dance
in the meantime, i am home here with a proper flu—fever, congestion, aches
so what do i do? work on the writing, of course:
- 0.5mm needle point red pen
i can’t think a coherent thought to save my life, but i can still go through my tic-list and cut out all my bad habits: everything done carefully, all the coulds and woulds because i wasn’t quite sure; at once / suddenly / for a moment because those are me-marks, not story text, my shorthands as i nail down a sequence of interaction
and a new one this pass: cacophony
though it seems a damn pity to cut such a beautiful word. which is probably how it ended up getting used so much.