You'd Think We Might Learn

But we generally don't.

It's Not Perfect, and That's OK

I just finished re-reading The Fionavar Tapestry trilogy this evening and, as with any book, the second read made me think about a lot of things. I always catch more of the little tricks, naturally. More importantly, my standards for authors are higher now, by virtue of my exposure to publishing and the "what it takes" of writing, than they were six or seven years ago when I first read it.

The important thing is how much it still worked. I still fundamentally enjoyed the book, I still nearly cried at the end and I still loved the writing and the slow build and release of tension, the battle construction, and so many other parts of the story and the style of its telling.

To Chapter 137 on the Occasion of Our Parting,

If I hadn't been sane, I would have written to you a long time ago.

As it was, our correspondence got off to a slow start. I mean, I knew you were out there some time back around January when the road to what I like to think of as the End began. You'll tell me it's silly, I know. It is. There is no end.

A Virtuous Morning

I write at night.

Over the years reading often inane posts about writing practice on the lovely Internet, I've noticed fewer people extol the virtues of writing at night. I know lots of people do it simply from talking to other writers face to face (something we ought to do more of), but the column inches are devoted to the idyllic, quiet, writerly morning.

"The Dead Walk!" + Top 10!

I do not anoint a worst-ever movie lightly. It always seems hyperbolic. I have a new champion, at least until I see something worse.

I had been avoiding watching Resident Evil since it's massive swing in popularity when I was in grade four. But one thing leads to another grad school assignment and I've ended up seeing it.

They do say you need to know what not to do.