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On a distant shore

It is bright and cold this morning, a chill overlaid with sun. I am so many places at once, I have no idea where I am anymore, but I think I would like to be in River Legacy most now.

My writing is different for me now. It's a lot of effort, every paragraph. I can see that I am making every piece count now instead of streaming material from a well-ploughed tract over and over. My stories are starting to remind me of no one else's at all. Red Rose is accelerating at this point into something I had not intended, but welcome as I desperately need the word count. I am struck as I inhabit this unfamiliar landscape by faces and places that if I look long enough can trace back to Earth. When I recognize someone or something I am startled. I realize my writing is like a dream, not a place that I can control, but a mindfield where my waking world is transformed into something strange and compelling.

All that said, I am tired. I have not been sleeping well at all lately. You would not think this kind of time change would be disruptive, but it has been for me. My appetite has been very poor, and I have felt pretty wimpy but haven't known what to eat, because I crave nothing.

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