Neither fish nor fowl nor good red meat

[jhetley]

Weather remains cold and breezy and dry -- sunshine, so you look out the window and think you should be out and doing things, but then windchill intrudes, and the lack of snow. Can't bike, can't ski, can't even veg out in front of the TV because the Boob Tube offers a choice of basketball, golf, or paid programming -- infomercials, I think they're called. I guess I'm stuck with reading a good book. Or trying to write one.

Printed off the draft of Chapter XVIII, bringing SIGNATURES over the approximate 60K mark in words. Time was, that would be a novel complete and of itself. Under current standards, I'm not even 2/3 done, and I write _short_ novels. No 200K tree-killers yet. I may not reach 100K on this one -- detective genre tends to be shorter than fantasy, and maybe the mix should split the difference?

Comments

[nathelmi.livejournal.com]

Begging issue with your post title, Isn't it originally, "neither fish nor fowl nor good salt herring"?

(A line from one of Margaret Laurence's Manawaka stories, "The Loons" I think)

[jhetley.livejournal.com]

Haven't a clue -- I don't recognize the author or story names at all. The saying came down the corridors of time from my revered ancestors. Can't remember if it was mom or dad side.