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Paige Hawthorne: Blog

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Requiescant In Pace, pcbondsman …

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So sorry to learn of his passing. He was a volunteer editor for some of us here, and became an online pal. He was generous with his time and talent, had a wonderful sense of the absurd, and a keen eye for human, and writer, foibles.

So long, pc,

Paige

So, I’m not a member of the Cliterati …

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People say that wildebeests howl the loudest at a full moon … well, the ecliptic longitudes of the Sun and Moon must have differed by 180 degrees last night because the wails and caterwauls from the slathering herds reached a crescendo.

Being a stalwart and compassionate sort - even to you 1-bombers out there - I have, although with considerable reluctance, opened "The Second Sausalito" to the voting public. Now, I don't have any delusions that I belong up there with the talented writers here - the Cliterati - but I do hope my little stories provide some amusement to you boyos.

Not that I pay the slightest attention to reader scores,

Paige

Behold the Gods of Irony …

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They titter not, neither do they chuckle. In my case, their celestial guffaws echo throughout Valhalla - In the courts of the Queens, in the halls of the Kings.

Once again, I've been nominated for Best Writer, or something, in the Big Clit. However, there's a difference this time around. My august Research Department (teenage son) has pointed out that almost no one voted for me.

The solution?

My current strategy is to go through gender-reassignment surgery, move to Fortitude, Norway, and perish in battle. Then I'll join the other Vikings in Valhalla, or perhaps Fólkvangr, who died, gallantly, for the cause.

Head held high,

Paige

New story ... sorry/not sorry ...

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For a change of pace, I wrote my newest story - "The Second Sausalito" - in the third person. Which has advantages such as providing the reader with some omniscience. On the downside, I wasn't able to get inside the protagonist's head as much as I would have liked.

(Of course this new perspective further befuddled the editors - Thorny, Steven, Mike, and pc.)

Many of the characters in this story are fictional and aren't intended to bear any resemblance to … well, you know the drill. Further, if there is any sex depicted herein - and I can't quite remember - it occurs between and among characters who are at least 14-years of age as measured by the Gregorian calendar. Or is it the Julian? One or the other.

As to plagiarism … well, let me say this about that. No, better to quote my attorneys - Venal, Moreover, and Dodgy - "All grand jury testimony is under seal." That, and something about one of the Constitutional Amendments. Numero Cinco, if memory serves.

Paige

Bette Davis, fists on hips, “Swell.”

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My ace Research Department (teenage son) informed me that a couple of my stories have been nominated in the annual rodeo known as the Big Clit. Also, so have I.

Further investigation reveals that both the stories and I are at, or near the bottom, of the vote-harvesting apparatus.

No surprise, not really, when you consider that I'm down to three regular readers; and two of them can't figure how how to cast a ballot.

What to do?

Well, I may just post another story; that usually causes adverse reactions among the real writers here. Dread, tremors, temperature spikes, hiding under the covers, etc.

Not that I pay the slightest attention to reader scores,

Paige

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