Ha, ha...Michael Chabon wants Deb's goodies. (Munchly smirk) If you didn't know his wife, you could brag about being eaten by Chabon. (When GWW gets Bitchy, film at 11.)

Kristin, if you ever get the chance to hear Ayelet lecture or read, run don't walk. She is insanely funny, sharp as one of Sweeny Todd's razors, and you will be able to look her in the eye. Five feet tall exactly.

The panel segment was a blast. Julie Orringer and I got to trade really bad poetry back and forth, and had the fifty or so people at the event howling.

But I have a request for ginger cake, and knowing that Mister Pulitzer - I'm still waiting for the day I slip and call him that, hopefully not to his face - wants it specifically? I am sooooooo gonna be baking.

I've got Save Firefly ready for beta, if anyone can stomach it. It's heftier coming in at over 5000 words, I usually only send out shorter stuff.

Squeezing a set of drabbles in under the wire. I've been battling writer's block all weekend, so if y'all see anything at all worthwhile in any of these, can you tell me so and stroke my pathetic beaten-down excuse for an ego?

The Two Men Anna Marries, and the One She Kills

Sebastian Arrington, May 1809

She’s unused to serious men. Her brother and her cousins are wits, and while she has no trouble at all keeping up, conversation with them is a performance, and sometimes it grows wearing. And the men who pursue her in London are nothing but a pack of silly fops.

This one is different. She likes his grave demeanor, his slow, deliberate speech, so precise and grammatical. And she likes the way he’s still serious even when he smiles at her. She wonders if anything ever ruffles his gravity, his formality. Maybe he’s what she has been looking for all along.

Jack Wilcox, June 1811

She’s never seen eyes quite that color before, such a clear amber brown. Warm eyes, though she senses they can turn keen and predatory in an instant, to match the lean, soldierly, self-assured masculinity of the rest of him.

She’ll probably never see him again, and for some reason she regrets this. She wishes they could be friends. He looks like a man who could appreciate a joke, and it’s been too long since she’s had a good laugh. These days she’d give anything for a nice honest friendship with someone intelligent but uncomplicated. If only she didn’t have so much to hide.

George Tracy, July 1811

“Mr. Tracy dines with us tonight, Mrs. Arrington. He’s a gentleman volunteer, here in hopes of gaining a commission soon.”

She glances at him and sees a pale young man, no older than she, dressed as an ordinary rifleman. He’s anxious and self-important, and colorless and uninteresting to boot. If he was at all likeable she’d pity him, because she can’t imagine him winning his commission. He simply lacks the panache to make up for the fortune he was born without. She pays him the usual civilities, but inwardly she dismisses him.

Susan, nice character sketches, there.

Allyson, send please - it may be until tomorrow before I get anywhere near it, since I'm zonked and tomorrow is appointments, but get to it I shall, and also Susan's chapter.

Allyson, please send. I can't wait.

Do you want line editing with track changes on? Or just an overall "feels great" or "Needs something"?

She’ll probably never see him again, [and for some reason] she regrets this. She wishes they could be friends.

This line is a copout, and you're better than this.

She'll probably never see him again, and it startles her to realize she regrets that. She wishes...

She'll probably never see him again, and she's aware of a twinge of regret for this. She wishes...

She'll probably never see him again, and she's surprised to note a bit of regret for that. She wishes...

Almost anything would be better than the tired "and for some reason." That's just my overly detail oriented opinion, of course. And otherwise, these are up to your usual fine standard.

t Poking head Allyson, me, please. t /not really here

See, that's my problem these past few days. I feel like I don't have an original thought or a vivid image in my head, and that I'm just using the same tired stock phrases over and over again, but when I try to think of a new way to say something, my brain locks up.

ETA and it's driving me crazy! Last night I was typing in one of my handwritten scenes, and I had a character expressing surprise and/or alarm with widened eyes four times in a six-page section. And I couldn't for the life of me think of a better way to say it, so I just changed a few of them to "she looked alarmed." And it's not like it was an isolated problem. There I was writing this scene that was supposed to be packed with emotional intensity, and all I could do was widen and narrow my characters' eyes.

Breaking news: writing drabbles is cheaper than Christmas shopping!

Challenge #34 (first impressions) is now closed.

Challenge #35 is an unholy FrankenTopic, smooshed together from suggestions people have given me that all have a similar thread running through them. "Last time," suggested by Kristin, "Famous last words," suggested by Dani, and "Fateful Farewells/Departures/Goodbyes," suggested by Susan.

To shorthand it, I'm going to call Challenge #35 "The End". It can incorporate any, all, or none of the suggestions above. I trust you.