Breakage

Words since March 23: 29,774

Only 3133 since yesterday, but then again I did a bit of reshuffling with the content. I’m never committed to my outlines. They’re just there so I don’t beat the monkey in my head too hard. And this word count isn’t by official SFWA standards or anything. It’s just what Word says.

I couldn’t wait to begin Caitlin’s Daughter of Hounds, as I was planning to pick it up after I finish this first draft. Last night I said, “Screw it” and just started reading. I’m so glad because it’s a truly magickal, marvelous thing. I read until I dropped off, and then it infected my dreams. I was strutting half-drunk through a cemetery wearing a moth-eaten WWII bomber jacket, kicking down tombstones. I vaguely remember shooting at things. And then The Frenchman started talking in French in his sleep.

I am behind on email.

I’ll live.

I broke a cup this morning. It’s the third liquid holding thing I’ve broken in less than two weeks. In France, that’s good luck. I’m not so sure about that. However, I did get three checks in the mail yesterday afternoon. Still, I think I’ll stop breaking things now.

I had a moment of acute nostalgia yesterday, remembering when we had our first lessons in evolution in 7th grade. Our teacher simply said, “We’re going to be learning about evolution” and began teaching it. No excuses for anyone’s ideology. We kids made a comment or two and he replied, “I understand your concern. You’d best talk to your parents.” And we did. That was as far as it got. And so we learned evolution. I clung to both ideologies for a long time but by college I had surrendered to a Deistic philosophy on those grounds. Please understand this was a generous position for a Fundamentalist, to admit evolution is real. The thing is, a sensible person can only study a hominid skull for so long before they say, “Okay, I’ve been an idiot.”

And I’d been an idiot.

Now, I have to write.

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