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Oh, and there we were all in one place, a generation lost in space with no time left to start again.
So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack Flash sat on a candlestick 'cause fire is the devil's only friend.
Oh, and as I watched him on the stage my hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in Hell could break that Satan's spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night to light the sacrificial rite,
I saw Satan laughing with delight, the day the music died.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Steve is just this guy, you know.

Well, I changed my profile to show my real name. Hi, I'm Steve and I'm a writer (Hi, Steve). I usually get a few hundred words a week...

That's how I always feel when I introduce myself in a writers group, like I'm in AA or something.

Anyway. I think I'm making more of an arse, I mean, a name for myself and it's time to be proud of that name. Well, for writing I always was proud of my name. By the happy chance of it I'll be shelved next to Steven Brust if I ever get a book out. And that is just way too cool for me.

So here I am. I almost have my decade chip. Someday I'll be paid to publish my writing. On that note, I still haven't heard from the Writer's of the Future Contest about "My Favorite War Stories." So I figure I'll either be a finalist (always a bridesmaid, never a bride, boo hoo), or I might have crossed the barrier. Yesterday I was inexplicably happy. Maybe that was it.

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