Friday, November 05, 2004


As if the prospect of four more years of Bush/Cheney wasn't bleak enough, I've been reeling from the loss of about eight thousand words from "Confessions" and the short story "High Tide" in its entirety. While it was just a result of laziness and stupidity on my own part (I had fallen out of the habit of backing up my material on a regular basis, and then foolishly allowed my iPaq to run its battery all the way down, losing all of the unsaved data stored in its memory), I've been interpreting the event as my muse taking sweet vengeance on me for neglecting her over the Fall. After all, had I been writing regularly as I should have, I would have been dutifully recharging the iPaq every night instead of leaving my tiny writing machine buried somewhere in my book bag, utterly neglected and plotting its/her revenge.

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