We spent the weekend in the wilds of Wisconsin, where the internet access is sparse and the milk is fresh. The occasion was the 2012 Gerasene Writers' Conference, sponsored by The Korrectiv. The alchohol consumption was prodigious, the under-18 population was positively anti-Malthusian, and the highlight of the weekend was the world-premiere reading of Matthew Lickona's Surfing with Mel, a short story in script form about Mel Gibson's (further) descent into madness as he tries to get a film project about the Maccabees off the ground. (Here's the germ of the project, though the workshopped story had a different focus and was powers of ten more profane.)
Also, people told me what was wrong with the beginning of my novel, and Darwin blew things away out on the back 40.
And while we were packing, we found the key to turn Eleanor's expander, stashed deep under the seats of the car. Vacation: truly a time of renewal.
Burying the dead
1 hour ago