I’ve been trying to work out what I am going to submit to the Collection Challenge over at KiwiWriters. I wanted to revise my short story I had written during the Waitangi Weekend Word Wace last year, but it’s too long, and I still don’t know where that story is going. Writing endings is the bane of my existance.
But I remembered a little short story I had written for a Zing Thing Challenge last year. I dragged it out of my ‘abandoned’ folder, read it over, and decided it may be salvagable if I re-write the second part and revise the first. It’s about a psycho lady who’s boyfriend dumps her on a date when she thinks he’s going to propose. It’s a bloody end for him, and a sad end for her. The theme of the challenge was to write a genre you never had before (if I remember correctly, it was something like that).
So the amount of work to be done on it is huge, but it’s only a little story and I should be able to manage it before the end of Feb.
As for the plants, most people know I am the worst person to give plants to because I cannot keep them alive. Ever plant I have had has died within months, sometimes only weeks (except for the cacti, they are still alive, oh, & for the record, it was Dale who killed our aloe not me). And yet the other day grandmum brought over some baby flower plants the other day, indicating that I should plant them. Me, are you serious?
Two issues with this: a) they probably won’t live long enough to make it into the ground; b) we’re leaving here in 6 months so I’m not keen on doing any landscaping. The garden was barren when we arrived, it will be barren when we leave.
I love my grandmum very much, and appreciate the gesture, but not really an appropriate gift and now I don’t really know what to do with them (if they haven’t already died. I watered them, but they don’t look happy).
Oh, and my study area is being taken over by little jumping spiders. I don’t mind one here and there, but when I see more than one it makes me a little nervous.