July 3rd, 2004

Clarion, Day 28

Quiet Saturday in the Kappa house. I had a lot of wordcount to pound out, having gotten zero wordcount for the past three days for various reasons. So I started at around 8:30 a.m., and with some interruptions, worked through until around 11 p.m., and got about 2500 words, which for me isn't bad. The story is now at 5300 words, and I'm guessing it will end up at 6000-6500, which I should be able to bang out tomorrow, to have the story in the mss. box by Monday, and have it critted by Gordon before he leaves Wednesday. Anyway, that's my plan.

Marjorie tells me she has a story about gay Superman. Sigh. I'm not sure mine, a steampunk love vs. honor yarn, can compete with that. Thanks for the midnight pizza, though, Marjorie. It was excellent.

Interruptions included an appropriately brief lunch, and a longish dinner. Dinner was with both Gordon Van Gelder and surprise! Charles Coleman Finlay, who dropped by to see Gordon and say hello to us all. He lives four hours away. So Amelia, Charles, Al and I had dinner with Gordon and Charlie, and listened to their shoptalk, of which I comprehended possibly half. Lots of stuff about other writers and their trials with publishers and editors. I was sort of familiar with Charlie Finlay through OWW, but hadn't met him in person; he's a very nice, friendly guy. Just sold his first novel, too. And had a birthday.

Last night Gordon let us read some of his worse slush. Oh, dear. Hand-written manuscripts. Schizophrenic ramblings about vast conspiracies. And the erotica, dearie, dearie me. There's no prose quite as bad as bad sex prose. Or as funny. Famous Actor's poem, "A Goat Up My Ass," was also memorable.

Temp: 82.2. Humidity: 51%. Fan: on. Shirt: off.
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