Don't Hate Me Because I'm Inspired by Hair Metal

Sixteen degrees outside. I dropped my kid off at school early this morning and walked my bike to a nearby cafe and wrote for a couple of hours. Then, with a bike basket full of kitchen scraps that I was too cold to take to the compost in our community garden, I biked home worked on the same story. I started with a month-old fragment that I extended out to ten pages. I don't want to say too much here, but today I was inspired by hair metal in the context of my past here--which sounds like kind of a disaster. (You hate the video above. You do.) And I want to send it out the ten pages somewhere by the end of the week. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

For the first time since Lara's summer o f2007 Locust Salon, I will be reading my fiction out loud in public on Sunday night. Today, despite the cold--despite the fact I forgot to go to Trader Joe's to get more cheese--I had a good day. And, at the end of the day, even managed to drop off my kitchen scraps.

Tights: A pair of black heat-seaking Japanese tech tights with tiny red argyles up the side, which were all for naught because over the tights I wore leg warmers.

Lara, red tights sound good. And warm.

RIP: Jani Lane