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Sisters are made by living everyday with each other and wearing each other down until the rough spots are smooth. They’re made by sharing secrets you’d never tell mom, and out of doing things for each other just because you feel like it, not because you have to. I guess you could say sisters are ‘grown,’ not manufactured, in a very special place called a family.
After finishing a draft, no matter how rough, I almost always put it aside for a while. It doesn’t matter if it’s a story or a novel, I find that when it’s still fresh in my mind I’m either thoroughly sick of its flaws or completely blind to them. Either way, I’m unable to make substantive edits of any value.
When I pick up a pencil, that this is a rough draft. This is not going anywhere, and no one’s going to see it. You have permission to make all the mistakes you want. It signals freedom to me, and it signals mistakes. Then when I put it on the computer, a different part of my brain kicks in and I really evaluate every single word and sentence and make decisions. I like that step of polishing while I’m rewriting the entire thing, not just cutting and pasting. Really putting in every word and making a decision: is this something I can stand by?
I personally feel that parachute files give a more realistic impression of an insect to the fish that views the fly, since the hackles are in the same position as the insect’s legs, and when tied with brightly colored hackles, these flies are easier to see on the float. A final advantage is that in rough water, a parachute-hackled dry fly will float longer and better than a conventional one
The biggest thing that I don’t like about L.A. is the sort of 2 a.m. shutdown of everything. It really kind of stagnates the nightlife. It’s very hard to casually have fun in Los Angeles. If you want to go out and have fun it’s like a full-time job, you have to really prepare, and call ahead, and get on a list, and know somebody… It’s really rough to relax here.
She had known happiness, exquisite happiness, intense happiness, and it silvered the rough waves a little more brightly, as daylight faded, and the blue went out of the sea and it rolled in waves of pure lemon which curved and swelled and broke upon the beach and the ecstasy burst in her eyes and waves of pure delight raced over the floor of her mind and she felt, It is enough! It is enough!