YES. Please. Yes. That would be lovely. Please. Especially because, with the weird-ass fragmentary way I'm writing this, I think that shifts of tone and logic and stuff are probably way more problematic in the current draft than they would be if I were writing it all in a beginning-then-middle-then-end way.

Where'll this be?

I'll have to check my logs. I own the domain, and I think I even have it hosted somewhere, but I'm not using it at the moment, so I can't recall.

The current URL will redirect to it, though.

Seriously, though, I'm starting to think that having opinions is going to backfire on me until I just want to crawl into a cave and not come out. I've been getting the feeling all damned week, and it's not nice. (Err, this basically stems from any number of things at any number of places, all of them adding up to me deciding that really, best if I cut out my tongue.)

OK. I'm still writing a slow crit of your sexysexsex, too-- that will come, promise, it's half done already.

But email me. I shall endeavour to be speedy.

On the non Fanfiction front, my original fiction keeps attacking me when I'm in the car and it won't cooperate. Currently there are bits comparing the land tilting like a Tilt a Whirl (only better than that) and I keep beating them back saying "there were NO Tilt a whirls then" , and I keep hearing in a little voice but Tilt a Whirls is nice.

Resolutions:

1. Get a job 2. Exercise 3. Eat some vegetables occasionally 4. Do laundry 5. Clean

I think it reads more like a to-do list, which is good, because that means it's doable.

Bwah.

t edit re. Tilt-a-Whirls is nice. Actually, any subject-verb disagreement will make me laugh now. I'm just easy.

Every since I heard Kaylee drunkenly say "hamsters is nice" in Jaynestown I like the phrase and keep using it, mostly to myself because everyone else would think I'm insane.

And to get more offtopic, when you shared the poetry you read in NY---the poem about Stella, you mentioned a poet---was that John Ashberry, or am I making that up?

Ashbery. But yes. He had, specifically, a poem called "Meditations of a Parrot".

I like mine better

Mme Lizard? Insent.

That's what I thought Liz. Mom's crazy lady neighbor is moving (we think we hope) and she had a few boxes of books outside on the street, and a chair and a love seat. Mom and her friend fought of the loveseat and declared the chair unsalvagable.

The three of us pawed through the books. A lot of them smelled of dog pee. However I did score: Rivers and Mountains by John Ashberry; Old Goriot By Balzac; The Moon and Sixpence by W. Somerset Maugham; Jack London and the Klondike which looks to be a biography about him. (Which thrills me, I love Jack London ever since I read To Build a Fire that was my favorite short story for the longest time); Words in Flight: an Introduction to Poetry I haven't looked at that, but hey! poetry; also three books that seem to be collections of erotic poetry and short stories. I'll have to investigate these later, and a few copies of books I already have that are either in decent enough shape to trade at the used book store, or decent enough to keep and trade my copies in.