Visible Ink Fundraiser

For those of my friends interested in seeing Coffee and Cigarettes at the Nova. Please contact me ASAP. I really, really mean it. It's this Wednesday, by the way. $12 conc, $14 full, and you get a free glass of wine.

Coffee and Cigarettes stars Alfred Molina (Doc Oc, if I recall correctly), Steve Coogan (in many nifty things, least of which is the Around the World in 80 Days), Jack and Meg White and Cate Blanchett (she's Australian, you know).

Oh Frabjous Day! Callooh! Callay! He chortled in his joy.

About fucking time. I have a handle on my Great Evil for the Shadow Boys, and I've written (and posted) an outline for the rest of the novel, junked up on absinthe. Sure, some bits still need work, and also none of the dialogue's in character, because I was writing it as fast as possible, and wanted to get what happened down rather than how it happened. It's also on über-high lock, mostly because it's not designed to be read. It's just thinking out loud, ye ken. I think it's just weaselbeast, buhfly and billradish, because obviously I love them more than everyone else. (It's actually because I'd really value their opinion on such matters, and they are Fellow Writers.)


The rest of my day has been uninteresting, by comparison. Novel was cancelled, and I'm f---ing glad I checked my email first thing. Otherwise I would have gone into uni as usual. Went back to bed. Found it just as hard to get up the second time around. Suffered through the worst Short Story class of this year (and that's saying summat). Jess gave me this book she'd bought on my behalf, The Penguin Book of Victorian Villainies. I'm partway through the shortest of the four tales ("In the Fog"), and it's quite good. Ania went on about how Tim Winton is a "masculinist", which seems like a load of old tripe to me. I'm not doing Short Story next year if I have to do it with Ania. It's just not worth it.


I'm still so chuffed that I finally have my villain. WOO!!!!