Dead Places

It’s  a sad thing to come to the end of February. February is cool. Cool in the sense that fezes and bow-ties are cool. It’s cool in the temperate sense too, but that’s neither here nor there. I do enjoy February. But all good things must come to an end. I’m closing the month on something of a high-note. I remain physiological intact, if somewhat mentally disparate, and in the last week I have been spectacularly productive. So productive that I think I’ve been the victim of some cruel and insidious trick. An anthology piece is done, and against all odds I managed to finish off this month’s wordascope in record time. The blog is now a whole two years old and I’m still going. All-in-all I think a small “woohoo” is in order.

Woohoo.

My wordascope is a far, far way off being the grimmest thing I’ve ever written, but it’s not exactly full to the brim with sunshine and lollipops. Considering the break-neck speed with which I knocked it out (probably a little over 3 hours over the course of 2 nights) I am inordinately happy with it. Which makes a nice change. Ordinarily the minute I look at anything I’ve just finished writing I am overwhelmed by a desire to crawl into a small, dark corner and weep over how appalling shit I perceive it to be. So that makes a nice change, it’s good to get so serious enjoyment out of writing something. After the creative head bludgeoning of the last few months I really needed it. It also served as a wonderful reminder that if I stop dicking about and pull my finger out, I can actually get shit done.

Now behold the things which we did wrought:

The Rogue Verbumancer – What Great-grandfather did

James Clayton – Keeping the dream alive

The Mick – Strange Attractor

Remember to swing by tomorrow for the start of March’s Pictonaut Challenge.