It's ours. Our Precious.

[truepenny]

My new pretty has arrived.

This is good, because otherwise it looks like today has been allotted to the Demons of Suckitude. 131 words between last night and this morning, and moving into the Action-Packed Climax, meaning I shall feel like a fraud for most of the rest of the chapter. (I hate writing action-adventure. It's so damn implausible.) Plus a rejection letter, meaning that I now have five stories I need to send somewhere, and that general feeling of doom, gloom, weeping and wailing and the rending of garments, because clearly all my short stories suck and why am I even bothering? (That would be Eeyore talking--I know perfectly well not all my short stories suck, and I'm bothering because it's the only way to sell anything at all.)

But I have a new pretty. That makes up for a lot.

Comments

[batwrangler.livejournal.com]

Hooray for the pretty! (My favourite green Phileas has gone walkabout. Fortunately I have other fountain pens, but I hope it shows up again soon.)

[heleninwales.livejournal.com]

Oooh! Definitely pretty. Lovely pen. I hope it removes the sting from the rejections, which I'm sure are only a very temporary setback for these stories.

[oracne.livejournal.com]

You have a new pretty. And you have short stories. Soon they will be turnips again.