Speaking of lazy, I wish this thing would just edit itself. Ir wants to be 3k, clearly. No matter what I change, it stays at that length. Every time I take editorial musings out, I flesh out scenes and balance the cuts. As my stories go, it feels "simple." And I'm not sure how I feel about that. I usually have layers and layers and layers and this story doesn't have that. It's a straight-forward expression of anger that came pouring out of me in a rush. Now that I've cooled from that anger and look at it dispassionately, I still see it as a whole narrative.
Kittens are beginning to like me.
That's Trouble, sleeping on Judy's writing couch. (We're sort of like some Greek symposium here, lolling about with computers on couches while naked male slaves feed us peeled grapes.)
And this large young blood is Genghis. Hard to get him to sit still long enough for a photo.
Anyway, yummy dinner as always and Jamaican Banana Bread to finish. Lime and rum on top. Piquant. And lots of yapping about process. Lots.