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

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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