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automatic writing | 2002-11-24 - 8:17 p.m. My m�s devoted readers will have noticed that my entries in this diary are becoming sparser than the hairs on Sr. Cheney's calabaz�n de mel�n. I think I have managed to write all of cinco veces this month, a low that only the venerable dead, como fleeting-gem, can ever hope to surpass. Why all this silencio? Have I suddenly developed a sentido of right and wrong? Or have I just encontrado a way to pirate my next-door-vecino's cable hook-up? Neither, querido reader. My disculpa is one that has been flogged by cada respectable diarista every Noviembre since the beginning of ... well, the beginning of the end of 1999, when the twin suns of National Novel Writing Month and Diaryland collided in one white-hot, fiery flash of unregulated self-expression. Es decir, beloved reader, I have been muy ocupada this month with my Nanowrimo novela, which I will refer to here simplemente as "Panic in the Sepulveda Basin Off-Leash Dog Park" or "This Side of the 101 Freeway." Would you like to read an excerpt?
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pride and prejudice - 2004-09-07
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Diary Rings |
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