I think I may have an addiction to writing speculative poetry. No really, I can't seem to stop. Maybe I'm just avoiding the book. I think I heard it growling at me the other day. Every time I sit down to finish it, it snaps at me and hides under the coffee table.
Just as well.
I'm putting the finishing touches on a science fiction short story that I adore, and filling the world with threads of mind that crawl from my eyes and drop onto the page like little word spiders.
Had another poem accepted this morning, this one a scifaiku (science fiction haiku), but you can't read it until May, 2012. God, that's so far away. I wonder if I'll even remember I wrote it.
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