(no subject)

I'm rewriting a short story from last year, mostly because I'm reading Stranger Things, an excellent short story collection by Kelly Link.

I don't know why it is, but I have trouble writing unless I'm reading an author whose voice gets into my head. My rewrite doesn't exactly sound like the Kelly Link-voice I've slipped into, but it's closer to that than it is to the first draft, and now I wish I could remember what I was reading at the time that made my story come out sort of snarky, but weirdly sincere and sort of confused in its language. This version is coming out sounding like something halfway between Francesca Lia Block, and me.

(no subject)

...I went to the thrift store again today. Yeah, I know. i think I'm gonna have to restrict myself to one visit a week, because otherwise, I buy things. I mean, they were things I needed-- cookie cutters, for the peppermint shortbread recipe that Roommate #1 and I want to try again, two big glass jars to hold buttons, and two really nice sweaters that look like new. One of those was for roommate, because orange is Not My Color. Neither is pale yellow, which meant that I had to leave an identical sweater at the store, with many regrets.