I've just been reading through old comments on my scraps story, after publishing yet another chunk from the ancient cutting room floor. It's remarkable how many of the commenters are still around - but also how many logged off for the last time, soon after making their last comment there.

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... but in this case I think I must. I had, some time ago, written a short chapter that was a kind of intro to a romance between Derpy and Octavia. Greypones represent and all that. At some point I unpublished it, thinking I could bring the full story to compleetion, but then it sat on my drive for a couple of years without going anywhere.

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I'm in Dartmouth, on holiday, and it's very nice.

Anyway, to make up for the ranting the other day, I've posted a little something I wrote a while back, mostly to get it out of my system.

Must try harder.

also I'm drinking a nice port with a brazillian, a swede and a scot. There's an irishman here too.

My life is a joke.

In my never-ending quest to remain marginally relevant, I've blobbed some more of my old writings into my scraps file. Blame the Twiluna collab.

I had ideas you see, though they never came to pass, because apparently I am a lazy donkey.

Ass. Lazy ass.

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It is, however, for the current Writeoff Association short fic competition, so it won't be appearing for at least a week, but will eventually end up in my Scraps and Bits story (which I have tagged on this post for that reason).

Words. I actually wrote. I feel like a million quid.

In a fit of what an only be described as frustrated sobriety, I've dumped the first chapter of a fic I was failing to advance in any meaningful way into my scraps bin

Just because I can.

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