I'm sure it's nice and light and everything it's supposed to be.

Every time I see the pencil ad for the iPad Air, I seem to turn into Mr. Burns and say, "I think I'd be happier with the pencil."  Besides, if I just need to jot down a sentence or two, do I really need to start up an electronic device?  Do I really need to try to remember exactly what I want to type in when it actually starts?  And what if I wanted to draw something to go along with it because I described it but it wasn't quite right and I wasn't quite sure how to, but I know what it looks like in my head?  Can't I just grab that pencil or pen on the table and get it written down before I forget or have opened the file I want to put it in?  And what's going to happen to all of the scraps of paper and envelopes that I've been using for those little bursts of inspiration?
That's not to say that I'm against the iPad.  It's just that I find it a little impractical for that sort of thing, which is probably what I'd try to use it for, and besides, if I'm doing any serious typing, I'm heading for the keyboard.

Get that building a blanket.

If it was possible for a building to say, "Whaaaaaat?" I'd like to think that this is how it would look.
I also have have to say that I've never seen a building have such an emotional response, or any response for that matter, but I suppose if it were me, and some giant bespectacled frog wearing sandals could be wandering around, I'd be shocked too.
(And now I really want to know how "Get it out!  Get it out!  Get it out!" would be represented.)

Save the...braaaaaaains.

I wonder if in the beginning there weren't more people like "Zombies are people too" girl who would protest about programs and people infringing on the rights of the undead, and that they aren't around anymore because they were eaten by the same undead who's rights were fighting to protect.

Dear Book Three,

Stop being creepy.
But thank you for letting me know about that character.
Can I go back to One now?

Dearest Book Three,

While I appreciate the fact that you've finally decided to talk, 7:15 on a Saturday morning is not what I would consider to be an appropriate time to start.  Ah well.  What were you saying?

So it begins.

And I've already rewritten some things.  A lot of things.
And I've realized that the story actually starts five minutes earlier than it does.
And I've had to tell myself that the beginning was always rough, and had been completely rewritten.
This is going to be fun.

I took the weekend off.

It was harder than I thought it would be.
The read through/edit starts tomorrow.
My fingers are itching to type.
And the delete key looks lonely.
And it's November.
But no, I decided to take the weekend off, so I have.
This is my brain on words.
Don't do words.
Or do them.