Where are all my trees and birds? Where did all these people come from?
It was a productive twelve days, but difficult to quantify. Last year I wrote one whole story ("For Emily," which will be in F&SF soon) there, but this year was carving up a novel and reconfiguring it. The grim labor of taking out some of the best writing in the book, because I had to face the fact that it was only there because it was good writing. The novel had four distinct narrative threads, and one had to go. I'll turn it into its own novella later.
The net result, though, was a manuscript about fifteen pages shorter than the one I started out with. But people will be able to read it without a program.
Gay met me at the hotel, a little less travel-weary than me. Our MIT pals Jag and Antony came out for dinner, which was, for me, typically Marriott – beautiful presentation but mediocre food. I got sole, presented on a plank but too-fashionably undercooked. Hey, if I wanted sushi I would have ordered sushi. But it was great to touch bases with Antony and Jag, and get caught up on all the MIT gossip.
Here's a remarkably well edited bit of foolery – the BeeJees' "Stayin' Alive" matched with a hundred or so little clips of dancing from various old musicals.
Visual puns galore.
(Thanks to Stuart Schiff via Sherry Gottleib's blog.)