…fiction. Yet one of my main troubles in writing is coming up with a good story line. At least one strong enough to support my literary aspirations of meaningful writing. On the other hand, I have so much going on in reality that it has me practically paralyzed and made me completely unproductive in my daily life except to mentally deal with and mentally try to avoid dealing with the hassles.
I have a customer who speaks to me of his God-directed writings. No, really. He showed me a huge book of these inspirations. He also hinted at the Pleiadians so I’m not quite sure who’s talking to him.
My nephew’s second ex-wife died Sunday of cancer. This, just as with his first wife (car accident), comes within two years of the divorce. He’s devastated, of course, and had been in close touch with her for the past several months. If you wrote this in a novel, no one would believe it.
The legal shenanigans go on, with my old lawyer blaming my new lawyer for holding things up. Just when I’d finally made a decision to dump the old because he was useless. This would be funnier (and sadder) than Allie MacBeal.
Via NOVA, did you know there are ants/termites that are creating a large portion of the global warming problem? They have some serious flatulence and in their masses, they’re blowing a huge hole in the ozone.
Oh there’s lots more. But this is supposed to be literary weblog.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology