No Black Static story today, alas.
I’d planned to do one. Even had one picked out to read last night, but then somebody pointed me in the direction of this train wreck and I spent the time rubbernecking and in stunned disbelief that any writer could be so stupid, and ever since then I’ve been sulking because nobody ever forms a lynch mob when disgruntled writers turn up to tear me a new one, which doesn’t happen often, but more often than it should, which is never.
I quite like the paintings on Jacqueline Howett’s blog, albeit some are a bit derivative (echoes of Matisse, Miro etc). Perhaps she should concentrate on art, as it seems to be where her talent lies.