Ah, the white food, Jesse. It calls me. And dcp, very nice.

The very one Deb, silver- haired silver-tongued raconteur and life-enthusiast.

My drabbler appears to be broken. I keep kicking, maybe one of these topics will click it over one day.

I'm probably not doing this one - the list thingies aren't my thingie, at all.

That silver-tongued raconteur wrote one of the best and most believable AU mystery novels in history, Bev. I adore the man.

Egads, he's done it again.

The Life of a Humanitarian Techie, Part 2 -- Obstacles

Comments there or here, or in e-mail to profile address. Copious thanks to the folks who helped with the last one; if you wouldn't mind a shout-out in-thread, drop me mail and let me know.

Also, if people feel I'm abusing this thread by announcing things here as they happen, I'll be glad to take it to LJ.

This one is, as you might guess, sort of taken from life. Or online life, anyway.
Morning e-mail He: Honestly, I don’t know about this word you used. Frankly, it makes no sense at all. Sorry.

I: What do you mean? It’s slangy, but pop culture is a perfectly cromulent form of expression.

He: Jesus. Not Simpsons quotes too. Buffy and Homicide were ubiquitous enough, God knows, but the Simpsons has been on for fourteen years. If you’re gonna start doing that, I’m gonna want more coffee. I: I can’t help it if you’re a killjoy. Or if I retain more than you do.:)

He: Yes. I’m very envious of your scary “Rain Man” quoting talent. If I tried to keep all that stuff, my brain would be like dried spaghetti. I don’t know where you put it all.

I: Maybe it fills up the space where my organizational skills should be.

He: That could very well be. But that’s no excuse to be hiding out in e-mail instead of writing, slacker.

For all you writers in search of an agent, or for those wrestling with the rejection letter issue, my own agent, Jennifer Jackson, just posted up some wonderful, wonderful advice in her livejournal, and gave me permission to link it here:

[link]

Marked for intent perusal at a later date. DAmn, the whole agent issue makes my stomach hurt.

Finish the book first, Constance, then worry about that.

wrod. I'm not even done with my "shitty first draft" yet.(Thank you, Anne Lamott)

Trippy triple post.

I went for the easy words. Blame the carbs.

Drabble:

The yawn felt like it nearly split her face in two. Today, the afterlunch lethargy threatened to put her face down into the test bench with all its flashing beacons and winking LEDs. The fault lay directly on the spaghetti and garlic bread she’d purchased from the deli. She knew better. Avoid the tryptophan and the carbs; get a salad intead and she could stay alert throughout the afternoon. She could get some coffee to help countereffect the sleepiness, but it actually takes caffeine an hour to have a physical effect on the human body. Still, it would help, eventually.