Kevin Doesn't . . . grasp who handed him this Big-Apple success. Could it be . . . Satan?

(Written Tuesday, but unable to post)
Far Sector SFFH rejected The Well. I just received what seems like a form rejection (although nice enough as they go) in my inbox.

Damn. I've bumped it back out to another ezine, after spending a large chunk of this afternoon lurking at Ralan's. Keep your fingers crossed.

And, because I haven't done one of these for a while:
New Chapters -- 1;
New Stories -- 0;
Words -- 10000;
Stories in Circulation -- 1;
Rejections -- 4;
Acceptances -- 0.

Later . . .

Kevin Doesn't . . . mind playing down an exchange.

That said, nothing to report from the weekend. No new writing done and I haven't even got around to typing up the stuff I did by hand when I was back in the Sticks. Been doing too much socialising, I guess, 'cos it's not as if I've been wasting time in front of the television or anything.

Went up to Matt's this weekend for a barbecue. Not bad, altho' I did spend the entire evening sitting in singles row again. Going to have to put an end to that; everyone in that group is far too couply, and it can be a bit of a shackle on the evening. Friday and Sunday both I went out for drinks locally; good altho' I spent too much money :)

Going to try and get some words down tonight. Hopefully, there won't be too many distractions.

Kevin Doesn't . . . like the taste of water.

(Written on Friday, but unable to post).
I don't think I can write anything about Wednesday's funeral. Not yet, I'm still trying to grab hold of something I recognise so I can pin it down somewhere. I don't know where (here, my other journal, on a piece of paper in my room that'll never be read).

For now we're just going to have to settle for the trivial stuff, okay?

I've finished reading Colony by Rob Grant (review to follow). A couple of days ago I made a start on The Scar by China Miéville. It's already worming it's way into my brain, much in the manner that Perdido Street Station did. Loving what I'm reading so far.

Had some ideas for the Levels of Horror contest at the zoo, although nothing too concrete yet. Hoping I can start writing something down this weekend.

Kevin Doesn't . . . think the paramilitary groups on both sides are of any good to the conflict.

Well, I'm going back home for real now. I'll be out of town until next Friday, although it's unlikely this page'll see any action again until the week after.

Later . . .

Kevin Doesn't . . . understand general realitivity.

I was a little hasty in writing my message yesterday. It turns out the funeral is not until next Wednesday now. Unable to afford to take over a week off, or make two trips back home, this means that I'll be in Swin until the end of the week.

Finished Without Fail last night (reviewed by Scircle). Next on the list Colony by Rob Grant (yes, that's one half of the team who created Red Dwarf).

For the first time in a long time, I got some new words down. Saturday to be exact. Only a page and a half, and for the Hot Air challenge that I'll probably never take part in, but it felt good to be writing again. First paragraph was the hardest; I couldn't say what I wanted to say. Took me about an hour. I'm still not entirely happy with it -- the whole thing feels too description heavy at the moment -- but it's good enough.

Later . . .

:(

My grandad passed away on Saturday. I'm going home, so I'll be away for a while.

Later . . .

Kevin Doesn't . . . call me all that often.

Last night I finished reading Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett. Not one of his best, but the Death books have never been my favourites of the series (except the latest, which I loved). Next on the list: Without Fail by Lee Child. Should hammer through this one fairly quickly.

Kevin Doesn't . . . worry about the sun's damaging rays, he just concentrates on his game.

Nothing much to say. The Well is still out at the latest market; I've not written anything in ages, although, at the workshop, I have managed to get some critting done (and aren't I happy with myself at being able to crit when I don't even have anything posted); I have an idea for a scene (or two) for the June challenge, but am unsure whether or not to post it incomplete; I'm currently reading Terry Pratchett's Reaper Man, and the other day, to my great joy, I noticed that WHS had a copy of The Scar in, so I've bought that and added it to the pile of books to be read.

Kevin Doesn't . . . know how to smile.

I moved house two weeks ago, and am now living with two others in a small two bedroom cottage in the Distant Past. Whilst I haven't completely finished unpacking (matters haven't been helped by the satellite television in the lounge, which sings to me whenever I have a quiet moment), I've settled in and so far things are good. The eternal quiet of the Distant Past isn't bothering me too much; it's just like being back in the Sticks, except that you're slightly less removed from civilisation here (I'm currently only four or so miles from Swin).

When I say I live with two others, this week it isn't strictly true. We're letting another one of the local needy sleep in our lounge, so there will be four of us living in very cramped conditions. I'm not sure of the wisdom of such a move, but if the others want to be charitable, who am I to argue?

Finally, for any who remember me mentioning the bowling a while back, an update. I truly suck at bowling. In fact, it might be safe to say that I am worse at bowling than I am at Karting. In our group of six I came fourth in the first game. In the second I came second to last out of the whole party (some 40-odd people). If ever the Monty Burns comparisons were appropriate, it is now.

Later . . .