Got an email from my mother. She and my step-dad are coming to visit in October from China. They’re doing a tour of the U.S.–part business and part pleasure. He’s got a conference in Chicago to attend, and they’re visiting family and friends en route between California and New York. My step-dad has gotten me a three-volume set of Journey to the West, the mythological fantasy of the Monkey King! Isn’t that the coolest? It’s amazing how fond I’ve become of my stepfather in such a short amount of time. We’ve hit it off quite nicely, and I’m not unaware of the irony that he knows my proclivities and tastes better than my mother does. Gimme books over pink dresses any day.
Hobkin is slowly metamorphosing from a bratty summer skunk into a couch potato autumn one. I followed him around with the camera as he contemplated getting into mischief. He was less-than-pleased by my attention. Or perhaps it was the flash.
Digging at the hardwood floor. I’m not exactly sure what he thought he was going to accomplish doing that.
Noticing me with the camera and exhibiting his ire. Yes, I’m grateful he’s de-scented.
“Quit flashy-thinging me, Mom!” Doesn’t he look all fierce and sinister? Awww.
Tuckered out from all that stomping. Hobkin’s normal activity level.
New Words: 900
On the supah sekrit fairy tale project. Caffeine is my friend. So is sugar. I’m actually doing a modern fantasy re-telling of a non-Eastern (*gasp*) fairy tale–Little Red Riding Hood, even. Yes, it’s a much-redone tale, but I’m giving it a nice twist. At least I hope it’s a nice twist and not terribly cliché and trite. Muse, don’t forsake me! But I’ve wanted to do something with Red for a while now and this seems a good opportunity to take the bit and run with it. I keep having these tangential “Eastern-esque” thoughts because, well, red is such an important color in Chinese culture. Maybe I’ll do a Chinese Red Riding hood after this. Or maybe I should just focus on what I’m writing and not get sidetracked. Discipline, dammit!
Club 100 For Writers
Sigh. Starting over again. I suck. But at least I’m persistent about it. Or something.