My mind has been occupied with getting things sorted out for our upcoming trip to Cuba rather than on writing.
The guidebook we picked up was named the Best Guidebook of 2005 by the Caribbean Tourism Organization and its author was named Travel Journalist of the Year.
Here's a snippet:
"Cubans are fastidious about dressing well, especially when going out to the theater or dinner, and for business functions. You may wish to take a dress jacket or cocktail dress for dinners in more expensive restaurants, and for that unexpected meeting with Fidel."
- Moon Handbooks Cuba by Christopher P. Baker (Avalon Travel).
I haven't looked at the hard copy of Biting The Dust and likely won't until the middle of next month.
I felt a bit dry and blocked since I printed it out and knew that I should do something to get the flow going. The question was, what?
Then it hit me--dreck. I have permission to write crap, so why not do it? It'll be fun. Ideas will flow and some of them may even be good.
But what would I write?
The beauty of crap is it doesn't matter. The point is unclogging the drain so the good stuff flows.
To that end I opened up a file and started to have at it. Not to brag or anything, but there's a passage where I cringed so hard I had to close my eyes to finish typing it. I thought it was the worst thing ever until I wrote what I'm offering today.
Without further ado or proper preparation here's a little something from Sara Harris' Interesting Time.
And I'm sorry.
"She felt a strange sensation just below her knee like she was being hugged. A look of horror swept over her face as she realized the cause.
'Pupster. You stop that. You stop humping my leg. Even if it is a compliment.'
If you're wondering, yes, the title is an acronym.
For more or to participate please see The Women of Mystery.
Thank you for reading me.
An Affective Singularity
10 minutes ago