The first draft of "Streets of Fire" is done. How-some-ever, it is definitely a draft, as the story came in at 10,628 words, and I have a very strict 10,000-word cap on this story. So I must slice 628 words (at least) out of it.
But that's a job for tomorrow. Tonight, I bask in the accomplishment with Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream and Stargate SG-1
DVDs. (Which is technically work, as I've got a couple of SG-1
proposals floating around Fandemonium right now....)
Here's a tease from the story, with the warning that it might have some of the 628 doomed words:
"Okay, first of all, did you not read the memo that says that I work for the News? That's the Post, which isn't so much a newspaper as something handy to line the litterbox with."
"Your deal says you can't reveal anything until the article's out, but that's only for the News."
Unable to believe what she was hearing, Mia just shook her head. "So I took it to my biggest competitor? On what planet does that make sense? Sergeant, let me be clear. I'd sooner drive a white-hot poker through my eyeball than give the Post an exclusive."
"So how the fuck did they find out about it?"
"Well, they do have reporters working for them, and I have it on good authority that some of them have even achieved sentience. It's possible that one of them figured it all out."
Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: "Jesus's Brother Bob" by the Arrogant Worms