It's a very un-watery book, actually. Very, very landlocked, this book.
I had a moment this morning of thinking, "All you Atlanta Nights people are hosers! You wrote one of the world's worst books on purpose. I did mine without even trying to be this bad!" I recognized this as a sign that I should put the book (metaphorically) down and back away from the book. So I started poking short stories very carefully with long sticks to see if any of them was the right short story to poke. A hundred words here, a hundred words there...and the answer is no, none of them was the right short story to poke, although I did have a good time with some of "Carter Hall Sweeps a Path." I have a feeling I'll be back to Thermionic Night revisions after dinner. Ah well. There are worse things. Even if it is one of the world's worst books. Because revisions will make it better! Or at least differently bad!
Hurray for differently bad!