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by Hugh Cook |
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Section 131 Entry 0001. Date: 2004 November 27 Saturday.
(diary) (previous) (top) (bottom) (next) (topics) (contents) Looking through the stats for the website for November ... distressingly few people searching for "Hugh Cook" ... searches include incalcitrant ... some appropriate hits for creative writing guide ... four hits for aardvark poem ... also four hits for short storis ... (You'd rather read "storis" than "stories?" Well, the Internet caters for all tastes.) Lots of fours. Four searches for fictional short stories about music ... This is what I do now and again in spare moments, when Baby is sleeping ... browse through the stats, looking for unmet needs ... I don't have anything about "metal sex," so should I write it. (The poem Sex Metal is something quite different. War poem. Burnt child. Napalm.) No, don't think I will write about "metal sex" ... should really be focusing on the BAMBOO HORSES novel ... should push ahead with it, get it finished ... And Baby is about to wake up ... Section 131 Entry 0002. Date: 2004 December 6 Monday. (diary) (previous) (top) (bottom) (next) (topics) (contents) Baby Cornucopia, now seven months old, is developing at a fantastic pace. In the last ten days or so, she has given up crawling on her belly in favor of getting around on all fours. What's more, she has started to haul herself upright, and can now stand, if supported. One problem: she's developed some kind of separation anxiety. At least one parent must be in sight, otherwise she starts to scream. I was woken by screaming three or four times the night before last. Or, more exactly, by shrieking. It was the wind, which was sweeping through the Tokyo-Yokohama area at typhoon strength. From time to time there would be a shrill shriek as the wind tore at some part of the house. The house resisted the attack wonderfully. And baby Cornucopia? She slept through it all as soundly as can be imagined. |
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