The novella continues apace, but it is at the point of no return. It is now officially too long to be a short story and plot lines are getting rather fat-free, so I'm really not wanting to drag certain things out for the sake of MUST HIT WORD COUNT. I need to keep reminding myself that this is only the first draft, and history shows I add a few thousand words with the cleanup process. I still grumble.
In pleasanter news, last night I joined friends to go see Soriah at the Highline in Seattle. I got turned onto him about eight years ago and was floored by his talent. Soriah is a master of Tuvan throat singing, a method of singing where two pitches come out of one throat at the same time. If it sounds easy, it ain't. The sound is a primordial one, coming from the absolute depths of wherever. This should give you an idea:
Getting to enjoy over an hour of this was magical in a way few live performances are. He performs with a live band called Askelon Sain. Definitely check out more here if you're interested. It's awe-inspiring.