| If you missed listening to my songs,
give them a try; they've got robots and vampires and stuff.
They are:
"Dear
George R. R. Martin," (self-explanatory), "Kids These
Days" (old vampire puzzled about Twilight craze), "Love Song" (doubly
self-explanatory, though not in a good way), "We
Protest the Robot Occupation" (well, why wouldn't we?).
My voice is, er, "average," but at least the songs will give
you some idea of what goes on in my brain. Write-a-Thon, anyone? Pretty please? I've written 3,682 words in the past two days; my goal is 30,000, so I'm more than a tenth done. You may follow my progress here. I update the page whenever I have a tiny writing session (usually between bouts of paid work), so the number may have changed by the time you see this blurb. There are still fabulous prizes to be won. Fabulous, I say. |
| Wednesday, June 27, 2012 |
| Panel 1: In the Davies College foyer, Marie is lookiing at some papers as Barbara watches. Marie: My supervisor made a lot of comments on my latest chapter. Panel 2: Barbara: Your...your supervisor? Made comments? Real comments? Comments on the actual chapter? Panel 3: Barbara takes Marie's chapter from her and stares at it in bewilderment. Panel 4: Barbara: They do that? Marie: Your supervisor really wasn't very good, was he? Alt-Text: I've heard that if you observe your supervisor critiquing your thesis, that very observation will affect your results. *Runs quickly away, pursued by angry physicists who quite rightly believe that literature scholars do not handle physics jokes well* Go to commentary |
