flemmings | Yes, the devil whispered, but...

Decided last night that life is too short to read Brian Stableford's baggy inflated Werewolves of London, which reminds me of what the Chinese readers here had to say about the happi endo Woxin fic that tells you Every. Possible. Thing. that Fan Li is or might be thinking, all the way through the story. Less is more, guy-- an awful lot more. If I want to practise my speed-reading, there are better things to practise on. Into the giveaway box it goes. (Supposed to rain all weekend. The giveaway box will not be sitting on the lawn in the near future.)

Someone on

incandescens' FL was saying 'it is a far far better thing to write crap than not to write at all." Normally I agree. But not when my slow-moving fic reminds me so much of Stableford. And then he did this and he felt that and he turned his head like this and he asked his question like that and his uncle turned to look at him like this and his uncle looked like that and his uncle said this in this way and... Then I begin to think Why bother? Pratchett and double crostics don't do a job on my ego, better to confine myself to Pratchett and double crostics.

Or write to edit, but that part's no fun.