(no subject)

The ironies of life being what they are . . . today would've been a good day for a long lunch. The World's Most Irritating Boss is taking a half-day -- whoo-hoo!!

Alas, there is no one here worth taking a lunch with.

Who knows . . . I may yet become desperate enough to go to lunch with Mister Punk Rock King of the Library.

Sequel to "Jumping The Moon"

I'm struggling with this story that I'm trying to write, and it's making me more than a bit crazy.

This is probably why sequels are a bad idea.

I'm trying to maintain the tone of of "Jumping The Moon", but I feel like things are getting kinda mushy. I think I'm losing my Lex -- the way I want him to be isn't coming through right.

Clark is coming more easily, but I have this alarming tendency to develop the story as a third-person omniscient narrative. Which is emphatically *not* where I need to be.

Check it out. Give me opinions. My instinct is to just chop out the whole center of the story (which is where I feel it gets . . . weak and sort of wobbly), but I'm not sure that it would be the best course of action. The writing's perfectly good, it's just not where I need to be.

I dunno. What do you all think?

( Read more... )

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(no subject)

Went to lunch with Mr. PRKL . . . it was actually quite nice. Pleasant, social chitchat on a myriad of topics . . . easy conversation and decent company. Too bad more days aren't like that.

Going to lunch with him every day is a trial. Once a week, though, is manageable and even enjoyable. I'm not really sure as to the why of that. Sometimes I wonder if it's just the introduction of third parties that makes him almost unbearably annoying. Does he truly act more pretentious when there is a larger audience, or do I simply lack patience because there is another person present that I am also interacting with?

::: pondering :::

Plus -- Indian food buffet. Definitely a good thing in my book! Although, the buffet I go to, back on my own side of the river, is infinitely better. Ah, well, we can't all be perfect.

Surprisingly, I feel quite good. Pleasantly stuffed ( no bloated-tick feeling ), nicely calm -- the boss from hell departed early -- and looking forward to clocking out for the day.

This would be a good night for drinking. I don't know why . . . I just have the overwhelming urge to get all my friends together in my living room and do shots and yap and giggle. Malibu rum and orange juice . . . mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

(no subject)

Hah. I waited for long enough for all you slackers to give me input. Now I've chopped the middle out of the story, cannibalized some portions of it, and generally played fifty-two pick-up with the remaining paragraphs.

You'd better like it. This was a lot of work.

Funny how changing a story can be more difficult than starting a new one from scratch. Which reminds me . . . ::: runs off chasing screaming fuschia plot bunny :::