Just Random Things

It has been an interesting day today. They came and installed the Sump Pump this morning. The sound of the jackhammer echoed through the house and shook everything. Selena, my poor stressed fuzzball, hide under the covers of the bed for most of it. She also meowed in distress a lot.

I managed to work on some of my stories today, doing editorial work on "Into This Land", "Darkly Through the Light Waters", "The Foundling" and my poem "Where The Left Overs Go". I plan to post "Into This Land" of the Online Writers Workshop tomorrow. I hope the story is ready for workshop. I worry about this because the last story I sent to Workshop (Kearsee's Tale) got savaged. There were few good things said about the story and more criticism given than almost all my other stories combined. I knew I was in trouble when the first response started out with the word, 'I know you're a better writer than this.' Obviously I had not given this story enough attention before workshopping it.

I didn't sleep much last night. After reading yesterday's post by careswen, I found myself thinking about that awful day in Oklahoma City nine years ago, and the awful days that followed. I will not talk about them in this public forum; these memories are mine to suffer, not yours. I will say that I hope, as a people, we finally take to heart the lessons learned from that day nine years ago.

In Deep Peace
Michael

Just Random Things

It has been an interesting day today. They came and installed the Sump Pump this morning. The sound of the jackhammer echoed through the house and shook everything. Selena, my poor stressed fuzzball, hide under the covers of the bed for most of it. She also meowed in distress a lot.

I managed to work on some of my stories today, doing editorial work on "Into This Land", "Darkly Through the Light Waters", "The Foundling" and my poem "Where The Left Overs Go". I plan to post "Into This Land" of the Online Writers Workshop tomorrow. I hope the story is ready for workshop. I worry about this because the last story I sent to Workshop (Kearsee's Tale) got savaged. There were few good things said about the story and more criticism given than almost all my other stories combined. I knew I was in trouble when the first response started out with the word, 'I know you're a better writer than this.' Obviously I had not given this story enough attention before workshopping it.

I didn't sleep much last night. After reading yesterday's post by careswen, I found myself thinking about that awful day in Oklahoma City nine years ago, and the awful days that followed. I will not talk about them in this public forum; these memories are mine to suffer, not yours. I will say that I hope, as a people, we finally take to heart the lessons learned from that day nine years ago.

In Deep Peace
Michael