Day 11, evening

I'm sitting at a pub in Joseph, Oregon, using their Internet connection and drinking a beer with a honeybee in it. Oregon has excellent beer. Possibly the best I've ever had.

We look like absolute city slickers, sitting here with our laptop and notebooks and beer while everyone else fills their tables with fried fish and hamburgers. But that's okay. I suppose we are city slickers.

Finally, I am getting some writing done. I've just posted a piece I really like, which I thought of while gazing out over the canyon and thinking of the worlds and societies that had disappeared within my gaze.


I haven't yet come up with anything for Zim's meta-novel idea, but if it's about writing, I suppose short stories like this one can be thrown in between the chapters. But the over-arching story, the thing that would make it all worthwhile, just isn't coming to me yet. I suppose we haven't finished our research.

Zim looks frustrated. Zim usually looks frustrated when he's trying to write, and often comes up with nothing. But when it works, it's brilliant. I can't wait to see what he's got.