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.

Anyone else read FrankenTim? Just me? Ok...

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

Not if she's trying to incorporate a series of random thoughts by a single character who isn't used to looking deep, surely?

Teppy, oh God. I see myself clogging the floodgates on this new topic. A corker, that is.

Deb: received. Thank you. Still termpapering (yes, this has become a verb to me) so it's going to be my reward at the finish line... 5 pages down, 5 to go... (hate hate hate my need to consult 30+ sources on every academic thing I write). Oh and I have no expectations other than fabulous Deb, so I know I won't be disappointed.

Also, the drabble theme (yay!) has inspired me to sketch out a longer piece... Kind of rudimentary/fluffy melodrama about a relationship and a historical site. Dani, it might be intereting for you to look at as it's a pretty Winnipeg-centric piece? It's a thinly veiled story about the old Eaton's building coalition pre-Mts Centre.

This isn't the end I thought would come out today. But here it is.

He doesn’t say anything else...well, if he could speak.(Yes, on top of everything else, he had to feed his break-up spiel into a communication device to complain about my commitment problems.It’s like the guy giving the time doesn’t want to see me anymore...doesn’t think it’s Going Anywhere.) Years later, I finally think to say, in my head “You liked where it went last night!” and maybe “Fuck you,” because I had. This heathen was good for one for the road. And I didn’t even say “If I end up like your mother, I’m killing myself!” Because it isn’t Nice, and ugly girls always have to be Nice. Everyone agrees he’s a better person than I am. Even I do, maybe especially. He starts a new life, I get to ride the bus with profanity etched in the windows. Yesterday was Valentine’s Day.

From Ursula Le Guin's website, [link]

Dear Miss Kidd,

Ursula K. Le Guin writes extremely well, but I’m sorry to have to say that on the basis of that one highly distinguishing quality alone I cannot make you an offer for the novel. The book is so endlessly complicated by details of reference and information, the interim legends become so much of a nuisance despite their relevance, that the very action of the story seems to be to become hopelessly bogged down and the book, eventually, unreadable. The whole is so dry and airless, so lacking in pace, that whatever drama and excitement the novel might have had is entirely dissipated by what does seem, a great deal of the time, to be extraneous material. My thanks nonetheless for having thought of us. The manuscript of The Left Hand of Darkness is returned herewith.

Yours sincerely,

The Editor

21 June, 1968

erika, wow. That hit hard. Nice.