I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Monday, June 19, 2006

Bataan Death Wind Sprints

Spent Sunday trying not to edit. I tried really hard and only got about a quarter of the way through “War Stories.” Lot of present tense stuff which had to be changed. I’m sure they’ll be even more. I ran into a whole swath of “insert text here describing blah blah.” Sigh. But, even now I’m down to 7700 words, and I think it will go down from there as well. Hell, I had to describe the Legion Hall and I still cut text. So, I have high hopes to getting the story down to around 7000, still too long. I could cut the first part down, but it sets the tone for the story and it’s real and I just love how it came out. Yeah, I know, kill your darlings. But it really is integral to the story (like the train sex scene in _Risky Business_). Ah well, we’ll see if it survives the next go through. Ten more mailing days until deadline. Still no response to “The Wild Hunt.” Tomorrow are major meetings for the Village.

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