Matthew S. Rotundo's Pixeltown

About 2600 words on the new story brings Magic Meter here:

Remember how I was worried about whether this story would work?  Well . . . maybe it will.  Maybe.

It’s a strange one, that’s for sure.  But then again, it’s me.  What else would you expect?

Oh, and something else I should note:  unlike other word count goals, that 5K upper limit is not an educated guess.  It’s a hard stop.  This one is for a contest, remember, and 5K is the maximum allowable verbiage.  I’m not sure I can wrap up this first draft in another 900 words, but it will be close.  Enough, I hope, for me to make a few judicious trims before the deadline.  Which, by the way, is this Sunday.

So will our hero make the deadline?  Tune in next week to find out!

No updates for Write Club.

Laterz . . .

And in a strange new development, I actually committed verbiage last week, beginning a new short story.  Look!  It’s Magic Meter!

Would you believe, folks, that these first draft words are my first of 2014?  You would?  Well, that’s because you’ve been following these progress reports, then.  And, you know, thanks for that.

But I digress.  All I meant to say is that I’ve been doing nothing but rewrites up to this point.  It’s good to be working on something new.

As this is a contest story, the title will have to remain classified.  I’ll probably change it at some point, anyway.  And no snippets, either, I’m afraid.  Sorry about that.

I don’t even have any updates for Write Club.  Gee, I guess I don’t have much for you at all.

But there’s Magic Meter, right?  So that’s something.

And I’m out.

So, last week.  Not a really good one, writing-wise.  Because reasons.  Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?

Oh, and lest you think I’m letting myself off the hook, be assured that the writing gods have seen fit to punish me appropriately, to wit:

Write Club updates:

A bounce from an agent on a requested partial.  Response time, 52 days.

And personalized rejection from Tor.com.  Response time, 373 days.

No more than I deserve, I guess.  The writing gods have spoken.  All praise the writing gods.

Yee.  Ha.

Onward.