OK, back from distractions again. People are like landmines, you know, most are safe enough, but occasionally one will blow (my mind). But, luckily I can call it work, even if it was a bit disproportionate, and I am calmed down enough now that I can start writing some.
So currently I'm researching the Antarctic (well, mostly, the Arctic too), with a view to writing about someone who sets out there for their CEP, but finds it inescapably and maddeningly transformed by the last person he saw before he left.
(I feel less and less comfortable with writing in the feminine person. It becomes more and more apparent that I am actually writing in the man-writing-as-woman person, which I think must have marked differences. This whole thing is very problematic, so maybe I'll do it anyway. Thoughts welcome.)
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