（外文电子版资料）Fun With Hieroglyphics.doc

Fun With Hieroglyphics Margaret Ball After thirty minutes of staring at a blank screen, I was finally inspired by the distinctive death-rattle sound of Norahs old Chevy coughing itself to a halt at the curb outside - not to words, but at least to action. I grabbed the mouse and clicked on the spreadsheet window Id left minimized in the bottom left-hand corner of the screen. The resulting display of Denniss and my finances was not a cheerful sight, but it was better than letting Norah look at the opening pages of my new book. All 0,000 words and 0 K of it. Riva? Norah called through the screen door as she came in with someone trailing her. Is Jason ready yet? Oh, this is my friend Stephanie. Shes a tech writer at Xycorp, thats why she looks like a grownup. How many times do I have to tell you, Im not a `tech writer? My title is manager of hard-copy composition and distribution resources, Stephanie corrected Norah. A faint line showed between her two perfectly arched, perfectly shaped brows. Her mouth was painted a clear, bright red mouth-shape and her eyes were outlined with curving, dark brown eye-shapes that matched her hair. At least, I assumed it was hair. It didnt stick to her forehead or creep across her cheeks or cling to the back of her neck the way everybody elses hair did in Austins spring humidity and heat. Whatever, Norah agreed cheerfully. She sank down in a wicker chair that creaked under her plump form. Hows the book coming, Riva? She turned to Stephanie. Rivas another writer, did I tell you? But she never comes to Austin Writers League meetings-thats where I met Steph, she interpolated in my direction before looking back at Stephanie. Her Salla and my Jason are working on some kind of truly dumb school project together. Theoretically, I agreed, happy to drop the subject of my nonexistent second book. They said they needed to do some research at the library. I dropped them off about an hour ago. They were going to take the bus home. But if I know them