$666.66! As promised, there
will be an extra Casey panel, probably tomorrow. I shall also
preserve the "666.66" version of the donationmeter beneath that
panel forever, so feel free to keep donating, even if you really
like all those sixes. Incidentally, the latest Clarion e-mail
newsletter includes a speculation that I am in cahoots with the
devil. I've currently raised the third highest amount of
money, and oddly enough,the
other people in the top-ten list have no sixes in their totals at
all. Every other number is represented, but all of the
sixes are mine. Perhaps someone is trying to tell me
something.
It's probably worth pausing at this point to mention that the write-a-thon has now raised over $10,000 and would like to raise $5,000 more. It runs entirely on small donations, and it is therefore important that it reach its goal. Why am I advocating so passionately on behalf of an American writing workshop I have no hope of ever attending? I suppose my steadfast belief that good literature doesn't always have to feature discontented housewives living bleak and unfulfilling lives in lonely prairie towns figures in here. It can be difficult for genre writers to find acceptance in conventional workshops, many of which work on the assumption that what is sometimes called "literary fiction"--basically, realism-based stories set here and now or in the relatively recent past--is the only really acceptable type of writing. Clarion encourages participants to write stories about mystic warriors named Throndor if that is damn well what they want to write. This offer still stands: Clarion doesn't give us donor contact information, but if you would like me to send you a special WoB-themed thank-you card (with Marie on the front and a doodle inside), just send your mailing address to kmaaren(at)gmail(dot)com. I may procrastinate on the thank-you cards because that is just the way I roll, but you will get yours eventually. Incidentally, the lady who tallies the Clarion donations has called you all "rock stars," and I agree. I am slightly less of a rock star. I did not have time for my story yesterday. Stupid, stupid marking. |
Wednesday, July 27, 2011 |
Panel 1: In the enchanted forest that has colonised Marie's brain, Evil Marie shoves Young Marie along as Marie and Casey watch. Young Marie: I...don't know why I'm here. I don't know what I'm doing... Evil Marie: Just walk. Panel 2: Marie [to Casey]: This is weird. Casey: I think we've established that. Marie: No, I mean this is pointlessly weird. Panel 3: Marie: Am I really just supposed to split myself in bits and go fight a brain monster? Isn't that a bit too easy? Panel 4: Evil Marie: Yep, which means that any second now, a confusing, depression-laden plot twist will hit us right between the eyes. Marie: I'm never going to like you, am I? Alt-Text: Oh, Evil Marie. You are so refreshingly free of the desire to be loved. Go to commentary |