ksumnersmith in e-mail something I say a lot: it's not like I'm going to stop writing novels and short stories if I never get them published, so I might as well get on with it regardless of where there's progress on that front. If anywhere.And it's true. It's not like I've been writing all these years for the fortune and glory it's been bringing me, so on any given day, not getting fortune and glory out of it should not actually be anything like a problem.
Still, I think I'm going to rewrite Sampo to be a 1,000 word short story: first the prologue, which I like, and then, "Chapter One. They all died in flaming wreckage, cliffs being in short supply in that part of Finland. The End." Maybe I will add an epilogue in which Orvokki is discovered not to have died after all and runs off to live in Jamaica with many comely cabana boys and girls.
Probably I won't do this. Probably I will just not let myself read tomorrow until I've finished the stupid mean sex scene in Chapter One or maybe Chapter Three. Still. I hold out the threat of the flames and cabana beings, just in case.
In other news, we are expecting three interesting packages this week, and we got three packages in the mail today. The two were not overlapping sets. One was some shirts I found online on sale, and they are the colors they were supposed to be (purple, brown, and blue-and-blue striped), and they fit. One was the last of my birthday gift certificate stuff, which is interesting (at least it had better be, or I'm going after you,
ccfinlay) but not the previously specified interesting stuff. And one was a dress that -- surprise! -- didn't fit. I'm not even going to rant about the way in which it did not fit, because anyone who's been reading this for even a little bit already knows. But I wasn't even annoyed that it didn't fit, because the catalog described it as "moss green," and it was...er. Well. ozarque talks about conversing with other people and how you can try to think of what their statements might be true of, and I thought of that with this moss green dress. It is sort of the color of moss, if the tree that was shading the moss has died and fallen over and the moss is burnt to a crisp and then trampled by hikers or lumberjacks. (This is the same line of thought that got me to the "summer breeze blowing through a pear orchard in which there lies a rotting wombat corpse" for the "Orchard Breeze" scented bathroom-cleaning product.)Which is really too bad, because if they'd made that dress in the color moss actually is, and if they'd made it to fit my actual body, I would have been a very happy kid. And if a frog had wings, as my grandpa often says.
