As promised, here's a page from the cut-and-paste project--which, if all goes well, should be completed this weekend. If you look closely, you can see text printed on the opposite side of the page; the scrap paper contains a previous incarnation of this manuscript.
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I've taken full advantage of this being Saturday, and have slept half the day away. After a week like this last one has been, I fell asleep at my desk here in the home office, woke, stumbled out to the living room to turn off the television (I listen to TV more than I watch it), and fell asleep on the couch--and this was around 9:30-ish last night. I'm a night owl; falling asleep before midnight has to be a violation of the night owl's code. There might even be some sort of fine.
It's almost 12:30 pm on Saturday, and I'm about to get to work on the manuscript again. I should be mowing the yard, thwacking at the tall purple clover and wild onions, but that would mean buying gas for the mower, and that in turn would mean spending a small fortune.
I need to get one of those old-fashioned push mowers, no fuel required.
3 comments:
I'm an evening owl myself. I sometimes make it to 10:30 P.M. on New Year's Eve. Just send the manuscript in as pictured and let the editors get a look at some real writing. Now, about that push mower, if the look you want to achieve is broad shoulders, 18 inch biceps, and forearms like Popeye then I say go for it.
Nope, more lean and mean is the look I'm shooting for, but I know the physical effort required for one of those mowers.
We used to have one: faded red paint clung to portions of splintered wood, so we had to wear gloves, but once those blades were sharpened to a gleaming edge, we could really chew up some acreage.
Of course, we didn't always take the time to hone the mower, so we paid the price with burning muscles and aching shoulders.
Postscript
About letting the editors get a look at some real writing:
If that was a compliment about the story, thanks.
If that was a comment about the (ahem) neatness of the handwriting, well, what can I say? It is what it is.
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