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Now John at the bar is a friend of mine. He gets me my drinks for free.
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke, but there's someplace that he'd rather be.
He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me," as a smile ran away from his face.
"Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place."

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Writing Saturday

Finished up the new frame to War Stories. Kept to the same word count. The story is now a little stronger, a little darker. Now it's off to the editor to see if he likes it better.

One of the by products of coming up with my rejection statistics is it forced me to get my paperwork in order. Everything is in its place now.

Now on to other things.

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