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O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

And Rewrite, Rinse, Repeat

Rewrote all the way throughout the frame. Added in details and little atmospheric things. We're now at 4987 words (you can tell how much I've rewritten since I've again added things in and we down another five or six words. I think I getting near the end of it. I'll have to print it out and go through it with a fine toothed comb and then let some other people read it to make sure I'm making sense. Hopefully I'll be done sometime in the next two weeks (there's council stuff to do, soon).

In other news, at the doctor's office I was down eight more pounds (nine since the last appointment, as I was up one pound then).

Really tired from not sleeping normally. So we're off to bed.

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