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Monday, October 23, 2000 I ended up missing Simchat Torah, I was too tired. :-( This morning on the train to Zürich I sat in the dining car and ordered breakfast in an attempt to bribe/pamper/guilt-trip myself into writing. It worked. I didn't actually get any farther with the text of the Amra story -- my writing brain claims her life is in danger, and I can't seem to figure out why -- but I did a lot of world-building for it, and that was a lot of fun. I'm drawing very much on Richard Dawkin's ideas from The Selfish Gene. And tonight I wrote a first draft of a little story-like thing currently called "Other Cities". It has no plot or characters; it's a Calvino-like whimsy. I wonder where the heck I could sell it; I have all these pieces that need to be published in The New Yorker of the mid-1980's, when Donald Barthelme was hip, before postmodernism got passé and "contemporary literature" retreated further into realism. Well, GVG went and bought The Ant King, so he's just going to have to look at all my other bits of odd, no-genre, somewhat surreal whimsy, I guess... that stuff comes a lot quicker than traditional sf stories where I always feel like I need to do more research... My deadline for the next installment of Crimp -- the (horror? dark fantasy, whatever that is?) novel I'm writing with my friend Ramin -- is Halloween. Appropriately enough. Boo! I don't actually think anybody does have Copperplate Gothic Bold font,
upon sober reflection, so this site probably doesn't look nearly as spiffy
for you as it does for me....
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