It's been a month since my agent meeting on May 5th, when I received words of encouragement on 20 of the 35 pages I had written at the time. Since then, I've written 55 pages, and I'm now about a quarter of the way through page 90.
My second sex scene, which I wrote today, went much better; I'll need maybe to go back and reevaluate that first one. I think this one worked because it's pretty weird (a couple having sex in an empty house that they're thinking of buying). The first one was sort of more garden-variety.
The saga of my apartment complex continues. Out my window today, I watched a group of what I suspect were seventh graders, three boys and two girls, wandering around carrying aluminum baseball bats. One of the girls had a lacrosse stick instead, and the second girl had neither; she was walking a dog, a black cocker spaniel whose poor dark fur was absorbing all of the hot sun and who really needed to go inside for some water. The inevitable began, and the boys started hitting each other with the bats, to figure out, as far as I could tell from their yelling, who was "the shit." I don't think anyone was seriously hurt; they gave it up after a while. At least it's not boring around here.
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