Thanks, Typo Boy...yeah, that's me, the second coming of Leigh Brackett. I kid, but that is something of an ambition, well, since I learned who Leigh Brackett was. Don't need the mansion...maybe just a comely minion to pick up the stuff I drop. Maybe some limber young dude, so I can say, like Frank Pembleton, that I keep him around cause I like how it looks.

So I'm reading some old fic of mine from my Equalizer days and being amused by the 80s-ness of it and pleased that the plots and characterization hold up. But my POV is all over the place. I bitch at people when I'm editing about POV, and it really annoys me when other writers can't keep POV straight. Still, when I've tried re-writing these stories, a focused POV just seems cramped. I'm not sure if it's "mustn't change my baby!" syndrome or a case of "follow what's right, not what the rules say."

So, what "rules" of writing do you find yourself chucking out the window when the muse insists? Or is your muse better trained than mine?

I have *no* perspective on my stuff, and the longer I've worked at "perfecting" it, the less likely I am to spot something that needs changing, or to change it when a beta points it out.

Thus, three drawer novels. Any of which *could* be reworked into something potentially saleable. By anybody but me, because I can't see past what is to what could or should be changed for the better. ::shrug::

I don't think about it in terms of rules...maybe I should have.

Everything has that white glow again.
I've been shoveling snow again,
Calling Ma nature a Ho again.
Its nothing like being in love.

We have snow ... and the usual panic. silly people.

Try a 35 yard long driveway sloping steeply upward. Leading to a street that never gets plowed. You won't have much love for snow either. (Mind you if it only lasts a day or two, no problem. Past that I'm pretty much trapped even if I keep the drive shoveled. )

oh, no comment on you - just the people who when the first flakes show up get all panic-y.

I miss the snow. I grew up on a cul-de-sac and the snow plow would sweep everything into a giant heap in the center and we would carve tunnels and play King of the Mountain until our toes went numb.

oh, no comment on you - just the people who when the first flakes show up get all panic-y.

No offense taken. Unfortunately at the moment those people are me. I felt pretty panicked at the first flakes this morning. "Will I be trapped for another five days. Will I be able to get back into my garage when I come back." Forturnately by the time I returned it had melted away. But at the moment, I have a visceral reaction to snow. I'm not scared of snow per se, but of the fact that this town is not really prepared for much of it.