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The package of mail from the states that I’ve been anxiously waiting for arrived today. I now have the last of the paperwork I need to continue with my permanent residence application, my Square reader, so I can accept credit card payments, and the sealed letter from the Illinois DMV so I can get my Ontario drivers license. We drive to the nearest driving center with the sealed letter in hand.

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My dear friend and fellow Inkpunk Christie Yant recently wrote about the dos and don’ts of your online presence and it inspired me to do a heavy overhaul of my own website. I haven’t been happy with it for a while. It pulled in things like images from flickr, recently played music from Last.fm, and didn’t show enough real content.

This new theme suites me, I think.

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I didn’t reach my original estimate of 5,000 words but this draft is done. Project: Motown Blues (tentative) New words written: 811 Reason for stopping: End of story No matter how much I outline and plan, these stories tend to take on a life of their own once I get started. The voice fluctuates until it finds its pace and pitch. Tangents emerge, sidetrack, and must be wrestled into submission. I like what this is shaping up to be.

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I missed a couple days of writing last week, which included a day spent trying to get fingerprints taken for immigration and ended up with an appointment one week out. Who knew that fingerprint technology had advanced beyond ink pads? One set for Ontario, and a set each for the FBI and State of Illinois to request my records. The saga, she continues. My Illinois driving records have been received by Mom and will soon be on their way here.

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[](1) Up until a year ago, I’d only seen a few episodes of Doctor Who — mostly season 1. I was interested by what I saw but I prefer to watch shows sequentially, even though the wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey nature of the show makes viewing out of order just as enjoyable. Then Season 5 came along and I made a point of watching it from the beginning. I was hooked within the first episode.

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A pretty good day all around. I’m loving my new schedule. This draft’s a bit rough but I’m on track to finish it up by the end of the weekend, and then I have a few weeks to revise before it’s due.

Project: Motown Blues

New words written: 1,022

Reason for stopping: End of scene and out of time.

 

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I’m trying to do a better job of writing every day, getting things done, and keeping to a schedule. This might not be of interest to anyone else, but public shaming accountability keeps me honest. Projects: Motown Blues (tentative) New words written: 571 Reason for stopping: End of scene Even though I know exactly where the story is headed, it’s fun to discover the bits that jump out of the ether, waving their arms and screaming, “hey, look at me!

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I’d ask Neil Gaiman this himself (and yes, I know I’ve tagged him on Twitter on the off chance he sees this), but he’s a busy guy and the odds of getting a chance to talk to him are, frankly, bewilderingly astronomical. I’ll throw this question out to everyone because I’m genuinely curious to hear more thoughts on this. At Clarion last year, I wrote a short story inspired by Norse mythology, set in America.

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Six years ago, I was a freelance software engineer, with a background in advertising, search engines and high-performance web applications, when an introductory email lead me to help build a new company. I was employee #1; I built a multi-million dollar ad serving platform from scratch and in the process I worked sales, accounting, administration, development, and management. In the end, though, there is something to be said about being your own man, being able to make decisions and see your visions to fruition.

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As far as I’m aware, this is my very first review. Extinct Doesn’t Mean Forever is an anthology of 19 stories exploring the concept of extinction, with genres ranging from far future SF to others that happily straddle the line between speculative fiction and the mainstream. … The second half of the book slows down somewhat. Some of the stories are longer and some of them frankly wear out their welcome.

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