I woke up this morning with The Tickle.
You know it. That little itch in the back of your throat next to your inside nostril that says, "Hey! Guess what? You're about to get sick! Mwahahahaha!"
I haven't been sick in a long time. I attribute it to my fanatical devotion to Vitamin D (recommended by a homeopathic pharmacist - oxymoron, I know) several years ago. I made it through The Racking Cough and Sore Throat Epidemic of 2010 when everyone in my office except me got sick for about six weeks on average. I did not gloat. I was too busy doing everyone else's job to gloat.
I might have guessed when I fell asleep at 8:30 last night and didn't wake up until after 4 AM. That's unusual, even for me.
I might still get around it. I've got my Airborne. I've got my cold medicine. With critiquing done, I can go to bed early (after feeding the cats, of course) and catch up on my sleep. I have plenty of greens in the freezer, and some bagels to toast for croutons, so Portuguese soup, here I come!
First, I have to make it through the busiest week of the year, which, knock on wood, wasn't too bad yesterday. Three days to go.
Stay well, dear readers. Wash your hands, don't put your fingers in your eyes, and get plenty of sleep.
You might want to give me a wide berth for a few days, just in case.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Easing In
I've been a bit absent the last six weeks. Playing Farmville, yes, but not doing much of anything else except critiquing for a couple of friends and following the normal Christmas season hullabaloo.
TT: It's funny. Since I ranted about how much I hate Christmas, I actually enjoyed this one a bit more. It helped to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.
I put my WIP on hold about mid-November, so that's a project I will resume. We'll see how much I can crank out in the next 35 days or so. I've pretty much forgotten where I was so I'll have to pull out my notes and review.
At work, I'm told this is the busiest time of year for business filings. With two co-workers on vacation, it should be an interesting week. I don't know if I'll be brain-dead when I get home or so stressed out I'll need to write to relax. Guess I'll find out.
My Kindle Touch (ordered in late October) arrived late November, so I've been reading snippets of H.P. Lovecraft, Grace Bridges, and Roland Yeomans electronically.
I can say it. I love the Kindle. I didn't get the fancy one. It doesn't surf the internet, other than Amazon, and I have to go to my coffee shop to use their free wireless, but it's exactly what I wanted. Best birthday present I've ever given myself.
Way better than those leather pants.
TT: It's funny. Since I ranted about how much I hate Christmas, I actually enjoyed this one a bit more. It helped to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.
I put my WIP on hold about mid-November, so that's a project I will resume. We'll see how much I can crank out in the next 35 days or so. I've pretty much forgotten where I was so I'll have to pull out my notes and review.
At work, I'm told this is the busiest time of year for business filings. With two co-workers on vacation, it should be an interesting week. I don't know if I'll be brain-dead when I get home or so stressed out I'll need to write to relax. Guess I'll find out.
My Kindle Touch (ordered in late October) arrived late November, so I've been reading snippets of H.P. Lovecraft, Grace Bridges, and Roland Yeomans electronically.
I can say it. I love the Kindle. I didn't get the fancy one. It doesn't surf the internet, other than Amazon, and I have to go to my coffee shop to use their free wireless, but it's exactly what I wanted. Best birthday present I've ever given myself.
Way better than those leather pants.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Bah Hum-Turtle
Wonder why my house is dark and that "Go Away, Santa" sign hangs on my chimney? I told you why December 19, over at
And that catches me up. God willing, normal blogging will resume tomorrow.
Thank you for your patience.
Readers Don't Care
Wow. Just realized how neglectful I've been of my little blog. I wasn't a complete slacker, though. I wrote this on December 12, over at
Monday, December 5, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
It's the Simple Things in Life You Treasure
I've been torturing myself about making the best decision I can possibly make. Exploring all the options. Laying out the pros and cons. Making my list and checking it twice.
While watching a squirrel jump from tree to tree on my break, I realized the only decision I can make is the one I can live with. Maybe it isn't the right decision. Maybe it isn't the smart decision. Maybe it isn't the best fiscal decision. But it is the only decision that will let me sleep at night, confident in my illusion that one person can make the world a better place for squirrels.
What can I say? I'm an idiot.
While watching a squirrel jump from tree to tree on my break, I realized the only decision I can make is the one I can live with. Maybe it isn't the right decision. Maybe it isn't the smart decision. Maybe it isn't the best fiscal decision. But it is the only decision that will let me sleep at night, confident in my illusion that one person can make the world a better place for squirrels.
What can I say? I'm an idiot.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Plodding
How does the song go? "There never seems to be enough time to do the things that you want to do once you find them."
My writing continues in between editing another writer's mss on deadline, moving and replacing all the plants in my backyard garden to protect them from the giant backhoe required to replace my sewer line (that's a post for another day, I'm sure), listening to friends as the holiday blues color their worlds and, of course, my own addiction to Farmville.
In short, life is getting in the way of my art.
I'll not despair. Even an hour a night is productive, if you know where you're going. According to the counter, I've added 11K words in the past two weeks. That's more than I've added in the past year.
The WIP took an odd turn this weekend, but I'm following cautiously while fighting an occasional bout of giggles. Silly thing might turn out to be 150K after all. Who knew?
If I'm hard to find, now you know why.
My writing continues in between editing another writer's mss on deadline, moving and replacing all the plants in my backyard garden to protect them from the giant backhoe required to replace my sewer line (that's a post for another day, I'm sure), listening to friends as the holiday blues color their worlds and, of course, my own addiction to Farmville.
In short, life is getting in the way of my art.
I'll not despair. Even an hour a night is productive, if you know where you're going. According to the counter, I've added 11K words in the past two weeks. That's more than I've added in the past year.
The WIP took an odd turn this weekend, but I'm following cautiously while fighting an occasional bout of giggles. Silly thing might turn out to be 150K after all. Who knew?
If I'm hard to find, now you know why.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Conspiracy
Does Satan care about my word count?
I had a whole evening "open" for writing yesterday, and what should happen?
One, I come home from lunch to find a stray dog curled up on my front porch. She was wet, shivering and not happy about either. I had to go in through the back door because I feared she'd bite me. I called animal control, which put me in a black mood for the rest of the afternoon.
I also called my post office. I didn't want my postman walking into a potential startle-and-bite situation. I like my postman.
Then I rescued a bat I'd seen the day before in the parking garage. It was obviously not OK. My head tells me I should leave such things alone. That the life and death of one little bat have nothing whatsoever to do with me.
I can't agree with that.
In the same way Big Brother believes he is Justice to those criminals who cross his path, I believe I am Mercy to those animals who cross mine. I cannot just leave them alone and get on with my life.
After driving through pouring rain (for the second night in a row), I gave the bat to the county wildlife rescue. I hope he makes it. I only know I won't pass his frozen body in the parking garage stairwell and berate myself for doing nothing. That is all the hope I can take with me.
But my night of writing was shot to the heated netherworld. Perhaps some write better when their heart breaks and their eyes swell and their head stuffs up with mucus. I don't.
I wrote a bit, but it wasn't anything like it could have been.
Tonight is blown in the writing sense for a school function.
November passes and my word count fails to blossom. I'm not giving up, but this has not been the best week, and Wednesday has barely started.
Sigh.
I had a whole evening "open" for writing yesterday, and what should happen?
One, I come home from lunch to find a stray dog curled up on my front porch. She was wet, shivering and not happy about either. I had to go in through the back door because I feared she'd bite me. I called animal control, which put me in a black mood for the rest of the afternoon.
I also called my post office. I didn't want my postman walking into a potential startle-and-bite situation. I like my postman.
Then I rescued a bat I'd seen the day before in the parking garage. It was obviously not OK. My head tells me I should leave such things alone. That the life and death of one little bat have nothing whatsoever to do with me.
I can't agree with that.
In the same way Big Brother believes he is Justice to those criminals who cross his path, I believe I am Mercy to those animals who cross mine. I cannot just leave them alone and get on with my life.
After driving through pouring rain (for the second night in a row), I gave the bat to the county wildlife rescue. I hope he makes it. I only know I won't pass his frozen body in the parking garage stairwell and berate myself for doing nothing. That is all the hope I can take with me.
But my night of writing was shot to the heated netherworld. Perhaps some write better when their heart breaks and their eyes swell and their head stuffs up with mucus. I don't.
I wrote a bit, but it wasn't anything like it could have been.
Tonight is blown in the writing sense for a school function.
November passes and my word count fails to blossom. I'm not giving up, but this has not been the best week, and Wednesday has barely started.
Sigh.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Slight Change of Plans
I'm remembering why November is a dumb month to crank out 50K.
Family obligations.
I sort of remembered this before I decided to do it, but it was the kind of vague impression of a memory, like "I've never done this before, and I'm sure I had a reason but maybe it wasn't a good reason."
Band concerts, plays, Thanksgiving prep and parties, pre-Christmas shopping parties - it all happens in November, even for an aunt.
I know I could work around this if I could just get my body to accept the change from Daylight Savings Time.
I did not gain an hour this Sunday. I lost one. I lost several, actually, because not only am I now waking up at 3 AM on the dot despite my best efforts, I'm not falling asleep until 11 PM or later, even when I go to bed at 9. That's four to five hours of sleep when I like 7 to 8. Not good news for the turtle or the family who will be around her as this snowballs into the inevitable sleep-deprived grumpiness.
Hey, maybe this works for the best. If no one wants to be around me, I won't be distracted from writing.
I guess there's a bright side to everything.
Family obligations.
I sort of remembered this before I decided to do it, but it was the kind of vague impression of a memory, like "I've never done this before, and I'm sure I had a reason but maybe it wasn't a good reason."
Band concerts, plays, Thanksgiving prep and parties, pre-Christmas shopping parties - it all happens in November, even for an aunt.
I know I could work around this if I could just get my body to accept the change from Daylight Savings Time.
I did not gain an hour this Sunday. I lost one. I lost several, actually, because not only am I now waking up at 3 AM on the dot despite my best efforts, I'm not falling asleep until 11 PM or later, even when I go to bed at 9. That's four to five hours of sleep when I like 7 to 8. Not good news for the turtle or the family who will be around her as this snowballs into the inevitable sleep-deprived grumpiness.
Hey, maybe this works for the best. If no one wants to be around me, I won't be distracted from writing.
I guess there's a bright side to everything.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Dave Is Wrong
Maybe not "wrong," but this month, he's not right, either.
October was my envelope expenses test month. I took out cash in predetermined amounts and used only those envelopes for those expenses. What did I learn?
Cash is far easier to lose.
I reconciled the "cash account" I created to keep track of my expenditures and found I'm 41.00 off, and not in my favor. I have no idea where the money went. I thought I got receipts for everything and I only used the money in the envelopes for the intended purpose.
It's probably my math skills, but this can't be good. The whole point of the Dave Ramsey envelope method is to help me limit spending. If it doesn't do that, or doesn't do it well enough, why am I going through the hassle of counting out 1's?
Yes, I'm that anal. I put the exact predetermined amounts into their respective envelopes. Which is why I'm a bit floored, disappointed and a teeny bit disgusted with the whole experience.
Maybe it's the I-can't-believe-I-had-to-call-the-plumber-again-for-the-exact-same-problem-and-maybe-pay-overtime-for-it talking. I'm a little miffed over that, too, considering I took vacation time to be here to meet them and they showed up an hour late. It's not like I can take more time off tomorrow and reschedule.
Grrrr. This is why I don't get along with Thursdays.
On a slightly more positive note, it could be argued I did limit my spending to only what was in the envelopes, but I'm not ready to be positive yet.
What will Friday bring? No idea, but today is certainly getting its pound of flesh.
October was my envelope expenses test month. I took out cash in predetermined amounts and used only those envelopes for those expenses. What did I learn?
Cash is far easier to lose.
I reconciled the "cash account" I created to keep track of my expenditures and found I'm 41.00 off, and not in my favor. I have no idea where the money went. I thought I got receipts for everything and I only used the money in the envelopes for the intended purpose.
It's probably my math skills, but this can't be good. The whole point of the Dave Ramsey envelope method is to help me limit spending. If it doesn't do that, or doesn't do it well enough, why am I going through the hassle of counting out 1's?
Yes, I'm that anal. I put the exact predetermined amounts into their respective envelopes. Which is why I'm a bit floored, disappointed and a teeny bit disgusted with the whole experience.
Maybe it's the I-can't-believe-I-had-to-call-the-plumber-again-for-the-exact-same-problem-and-maybe-pay-overtime-for-it talking. I'm a little miffed over that, too, considering I took vacation time to be here to meet them and they showed up an hour late. It's not like I can take more time off tomorrow and reschedule.
Grrrr. This is why I don't get along with Thursdays.
On a slightly more positive note, it could be argued I did limit my spending to only what was in the envelopes, but I'm not ready to be positive yet.
What will Friday bring? No idea, but today is certainly getting its pound of flesh.
Unfair
This week has posed ridiculous interruptions to my sleep.
Monday my alarm clock failed to go off because the AM and PM were messed up after my weekend power outage, leading not to more sleep but to more interrupted sleep as hungry cats worked to wake me on their schedule instead of mine.
Tuesday failed to solve the alarm clock problem when I didn't reset it and it went off at midnight. My body knew midnight was too early but it failed to tell my brain, so I lay in bed half-dozing, half-listening to the radio, repeating to myself "I need to get up. I need to get up" all while not getting up.
An hour and thirty-eight minutes later, I figured out it wasn't time to get up, reset the clock for 5 AM and barely got back to sleep before it went off again.
Have I mentioned I have trouble going back to sleep when I wake up?
Tuesday was miserable. My eyes did not want to stay open. Despite this, I came home and wrote for TuNoWriMo and went to bed rather proud of myself.
Sometime Wednesday night, my power cut out briefly again. When that happens, my answering machine comes back on with a loud beep and an electronic "to reset, please press the menu button." Yes, that's enough to wake me up. In the middle of the night. Again.
And last night, for no reason at all, I woke up at 1:38, and as far as I can tell, did not go back to sleep except for about 15 minutes shortly after 4. Just long enough to dream about dead St. Bernard puppies.
What it all means is I will be acting like one dead puppy at work today. It's a Thursday, too.
Thursdays and I have a bad history.
On the bright side, I did write about 500 words last night, even though most of the evening was spent with mom, at Bible study and realizing my own physical inadequacy to gain access to the part of my basement drain I believe to be clogged, necessitating yet another call to the plumber, another withdrawal from my checking account and another irritating use of my newly earned vacation time.
I guess it is a Thursday.
Oh well. At least the cats can sleep in.
Monday my alarm clock failed to go off because the AM and PM were messed up after my weekend power outage, leading not to more sleep but to more interrupted sleep as hungry cats worked to wake me on their schedule instead of mine.
Tuesday failed to solve the alarm clock problem when I didn't reset it and it went off at midnight. My body knew midnight was too early but it failed to tell my brain, so I lay in bed half-dozing, half-listening to the radio, repeating to myself "I need to get up. I need to get up" all while not getting up.
An hour and thirty-eight minutes later, I figured out it wasn't time to get up, reset the clock for 5 AM and barely got back to sleep before it went off again.
Have I mentioned I have trouble going back to sleep when I wake up?
Tuesday was miserable. My eyes did not want to stay open. Despite this, I came home and wrote for TuNoWriMo and went to bed rather proud of myself.
Sometime Wednesday night, my power cut out briefly again. When that happens, my answering machine comes back on with a loud beep and an electronic "to reset, please press the menu button." Yes, that's enough to wake me up. In the middle of the night. Again.
And last night, for no reason at all, I woke up at 1:38, and as far as I can tell, did not go back to sleep except for about 15 minutes shortly after 4. Just long enough to dream about dead St. Bernard puppies.
What it all means is I will be acting like one dead puppy at work today. It's a Thursday, too.
Thursdays and I have a bad history.
On the bright side, I did write about 500 words last night, even though most of the evening was spent with mom, at Bible study and realizing my own physical inadequacy to gain access to the part of my basement drain I believe to be clogged, necessitating yet another call to the plumber, another withdrawal from my checking account and another irritating use of my newly earned vacation time.
I guess it is a Thursday.
Oh well. At least the cats can sleep in.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
It Starts
Can't you just hear Nathan Lane as Timon? I can.
The turtle November writing challenge - what I'm calling TuNoWriMo - started last night.
I admit, I didn't go all out. I didn't rush home from work, close the door, the blinds and the cats in the basement and write until my eyes bled. Nope. Not me. I piddled around with laundry, Farmville, dinner and dishes before I got started. I even took a phone call, although we kept that brief.
Still, I wrote almost 1200 words in two hours. The key seems to be knowing whose head I'll be in next. Having that pre-planned is making the difference.
For the third morning, I've had alarm clock issues - this one wasn't my fault - so I'm behind. Again.
I'll keep you updated on the progress with my November-only word counter up there in the left corner. If you don't read me here, odds are excellent I'll be writing.
The turtle November writing challenge - what I'm calling TuNoWriMo - started last night.
I admit, I didn't go all out. I didn't rush home from work, close the door, the blinds and the cats in the basement and write until my eyes bled. Nope. Not me. I piddled around with laundry, Farmville, dinner and dishes before I got started. I even took a phone call, although we kept that brief.
Still, I wrote almost 1200 words in two hours. The key seems to be knowing whose head I'll be in next. Having that pre-planned is making the difference.
For the third morning, I've had alarm clock issues - this one wasn't my fault - so I'm behind. Again.
I'll keep you updated on the progress with my November-only word counter up there in the left corner. If you don't read me here, odds are excellent I'll be writing.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Wasting Paper
You may find this amusing but I'm worried about wasting my note cards. I only have 200 and access to 1000s more in a few minutes and a few dollars, but I have to worry about these note cards and whether I'm making the best use of them.
TT: Ever wondered why I'm not married? This is one of the 100s of reasons. Why would I put up with a man who would put up with this kind of quirk?
I'm trying to relax and go with this new skill acquisition thing. I may like using note cards to map out a story. Haven't tried it long enough to know. I may be able to recycle or compost those wasted cards. It could happen.
I took the cards with me to work and added some sentences during my breaks. Note cards highlight the one good/bad thing about being the author - the choices. What do I put in? What do I leave out?
In 15 minutes, I literally went from being convinced I didn't have enough material to write to even bother finishing the book to despair over how much story was left and how I could manage to fit it all in. Do I need this kind of stress?
I currently have 5 viewpoint characters. Is that too many? Do they all sound different enough from each other to justify the space?
I start the story with Rhami. I don't know why. I liked the scene, I guess. Jeff the Publisher's rule about continuity would indicate I should end the story with Rhami, too. Can I? Do I want to? I don't know.
As I write things down, I keep coming up with new questions about where the story could go and where I want it to go and why isn't it going that way? Frankly, it's a bit frustrating. This could be why the story isn't progressing rapidly.
Do I dare sigh and repeat Star of Justice wasn't this hard? Nah. I'll take the high road and keep that to myself.
On the bright side, I've found some good pics about Raven's forest to guide me while writing and some ideas about other things and a bit of excitement about upcoming confrontations. That's good. I need to be excited about this if I'm going to finish. Success breeds success, you know.
TT: Ever wondered why I'm not married? This is one of the 100s of reasons. Why would I put up with a man who would put up with this kind of quirk?
I'm trying to relax and go with this new skill acquisition thing. I may like using note cards to map out a story. Haven't tried it long enough to know. I may be able to recycle or compost those wasted cards. It could happen.
I took the cards with me to work and added some sentences during my breaks. Note cards highlight the one good/bad thing about being the author - the choices. What do I put in? What do I leave out?
In 15 minutes, I literally went from being convinced I didn't have enough material to write to even bother finishing the book to despair over how much story was left and how I could manage to fit it all in. Do I need this kind of stress?
I currently have 5 viewpoint characters. Is that too many? Do they all sound different enough from each other to justify the space?
I start the story with Rhami. I don't know why. I liked the scene, I guess. Jeff the Publisher's rule about continuity would indicate I should end the story with Rhami, too. Can I? Do I want to? I don't know.
As I write things down, I keep coming up with new questions about where the story could go and where I want it to go and why isn't it going that way? Frankly, it's a bit frustrating. This could be why the story isn't progressing rapidly.
Do I dare sigh and repeat Star of Justice wasn't this hard? Nah. I'll take the high road and keep that to myself.
On the bright side, I've found some good pics about Raven's forest to guide me while writing and some ideas about other things and a bit of excitement about upcoming confrontations. That's good. I need to be excited about this if I'm going to finish. Success breeds success, you know.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Three For One
I'm a stationary nut. Notebooks, pens, legal pads - doesn't matter. If it involves marks on paper, I'm drawn.
TT: Hey! I punned! Sorry.
Which is why I can't believe I left the dollar store with only a single pack of 3 x 5 cards. I guess Dave Ramsey really is rubbing off. Only took six years.
It probably helped to know anything coming from the dollar store (other than 3 x 5 note cards) will just not be worth that dollar. That, and my single-minded, straight-ahead push to get the cards and get out fast.
With the cards in hand, I sat down to outline my story and discovered I have no idea how to use note cards to outline a story. Do I write a word? A character? A sentence? Am I supposed to put a little essay of what I see happening or is it like bullet points? I'm writing down things I already know. Is that OK?
With purple pen poised, I remembered I couldn't use note cards in school, either. Oh, I used them as doodlepads and bookmarks, but not for outlining. This may be why I didn't have any note cards in the house and had to go buy some. Which makes me extremely happy I bought only the one pack despite all temptations otherwise.
Does make me wonder if this is why I don't outline.
Anyhoo, I have a few days and a couple hundred cards so I'll fumble along and see if I can make anything worthwhile writing-wise out of that dollar investment.
If not, I'm set for bookmarks for the rest of my life.
TT: Hey! I punned! Sorry.
Which is why I can't believe I left the dollar store with only a single pack of 3 x 5 cards. I guess Dave Ramsey really is rubbing off. Only took six years.
It probably helped to know anything coming from the dollar store (other than 3 x 5 note cards) will just not be worth that dollar. That, and my single-minded, straight-ahead push to get the cards and get out fast.
With the cards in hand, I sat down to outline my story and discovered I have no idea how to use note cards to outline a story. Do I write a word? A character? A sentence? Am I supposed to put a little essay of what I see happening or is it like bullet points? I'm writing down things I already know. Is that OK?
With purple pen poised, I remembered I couldn't use note cards in school, either. Oh, I used them as doodlepads and bookmarks, but not for outlining. This may be why I didn't have any note cards in the house and had to go buy some. Which makes me extremely happy I bought only the one pack despite all temptations otherwise.
Does make me wonder if this is why I don't outline.
Anyhoo, I have a few days and a couple hundred cards so I'll fumble along and see if I can make anything worthwhile writing-wise out of that dollar investment.
If not, I'm set for bookmarks for the rest of my life.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Stupid November
While enjoying day three of German Chocolate Cake Week, I read Tim Ward's post over at NAF and nearly put down my fork.
That stupid November NaNuNaNu thing is coming. Again. When writers around the world challenge themselves to write 50K new words.
Oi.
That's almost 1700 words a day.
I did it easily with Star of Justice. I'm sure I did. By the final word count alone I wrote 1840 words a day, and I know I wrote more than that because I edited.
Elementals - not so much. I don't remember the start and end dates but I wasn't consumed by that tale. It took longer.
We come to Justice for All. Should I try? Am I setting myself up for failure or is this the push I need to get this baby out by the end of this year?
As I lick my fork, I consider buying some 3x5 note cards and trying to outline the rest of the book. At least put down some scene ideas to propel me forward when I stall out. I have a week to prepare. Maybe I can do something.
Of course, the best thing I can do is convince the world to leave me alone while I do it. With my typical writing speed, I'm looking at 4 hours of writing a day. That's an entire evening plus some for me.
Maybe. It might work. Even if I don't hit 50K, whatever I do hit is better than nothing.
I'll keep you posted.
That stupid November NaNuNaNu thing is coming. Again. When writers around the world challenge themselves to write 50K new words.
Oi.
That's almost 1700 words a day.
I did it easily with Star of Justice. I'm sure I did. By the final word count alone I wrote 1840 words a day, and I know I wrote more than that because I edited.
Elementals - not so much. I don't remember the start and end dates but I wasn't consumed by that tale. It took longer.
We come to Justice for All. Should I try? Am I setting myself up for failure or is this the push I need to get this baby out by the end of this year?
As I lick my fork, I consider buying some 3x5 note cards and trying to outline the rest of the book. At least put down some scene ideas to propel me forward when I stall out. I have a week to prepare. Maybe I can do something.
Of course, the best thing I can do is convince the world to leave me alone while I do it. With my typical writing speed, I'm looking at 4 hours of writing a day. That's an entire evening plus some for me.
Maybe. It might work. Even if I don't hit 50K, whatever I do hit is better than nothing.
I'll keep you posted.
Monday, October 24, 2011
The Big Four - Oh My!
Hey, guess what? It's my birthday! Naturally, I want to tell you about it over at
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Trouble with "Not Earth"
Kat the Hacker Heckenbach brings up an excellent point. Ah'rahk isn't Earth. I can have ferns in my forest if I want to.
True enough, Kat.
However, Ah'rahk and Earth have much in common. In Star Trek vernacular, Ah'rahk is a type-M planet capable of sustaining human life. Yes, magic exists there, but, like the magic of your books, it follows certain reliable rules.
TT: Remind me to tell you sometime of the fun I had coming up with a "magic test" for Dangling Participles. Pacing, hair pulling, eye gouging. Well, not eye-gouging, but there was some definite torment (I'm talking about my process, not what the character had to go through). I brilliantly overcame the obstacle and moved to working on another book.
Some famous author (I thought it was Orson Scott Card in How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy but now I'm not so sure) laid out the four basic reasons to write a fiction book. I can't remember all four, but I remember two.
TT: In any list greater than two, the human brain typically remembers the first and last. That's why test-taking tip books recommend paying more attention to the middle parts of a list. Excuse me. I digress. Again.
One reason is developing character. You start with a protagonist and let the reader get to know him. That's really the whole point of the book. This is how I write, by the way, which is why I remember it.
Another reason is to showcase a setting or world. The main point of the book is to say "hey, look at this really weird/cool/wonderful/awful place." This is not how I write. It is how George MacDonald writes, and Piers Anthony to some extent.
I don't invent stuff. I recycle stuff. This is why I'm not J.K. Rowling or Piers Anthony or even Anne McCaffrey. I don't want to create an entire world from the rock up. I just want to add enough to support my characters as they go through all their little problems and make me feel better about my life.
So, while I could invent new names for all the various shrubberies and ferns and trees and flowers in my fictional forest, I'd rather not. Which leaves me researching Earth-type forest environments for all the little doodads and whatsamahooies that will make fighting in a forest harder or easier.
Before you say it, you're absolutely right. I've painted myself into my corner and I'll just have to sit here until it dries. Or tear the house down and live in a sleeping bag.
On a brighter note, writing continued last night back in the forest. Now my issue is whose viewpoint shall tell this chapter? I've settled on Merritt. He should get to talk while he can, right?
Mwahahahahahaaha!
True enough, Kat.
However, Ah'rahk and Earth have much in common. In Star Trek vernacular, Ah'rahk is a type-M planet capable of sustaining human life. Yes, magic exists there, but, like the magic of your books, it follows certain reliable rules.
TT: Remind me to tell you sometime of the fun I had coming up with a "magic test" for Dangling Participles. Pacing, hair pulling, eye gouging. Well, not eye-gouging, but there was some definite torment (I'm talking about my process, not what the character had to go through). I brilliantly overcame the obstacle and moved to working on another book.
Some famous author (I thought it was Orson Scott Card in How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy but now I'm not so sure) laid out the four basic reasons to write a fiction book. I can't remember all four, but I remember two.
TT: In any list greater than two, the human brain typically remembers the first and last. That's why test-taking tip books recommend paying more attention to the middle parts of a list. Excuse me. I digress. Again.
One reason is developing character. You start with a protagonist and let the reader get to know him. That's really the whole point of the book. This is how I write, by the way, which is why I remember it.
Another reason is to showcase a setting or world. The main point of the book is to say "hey, look at this really weird/cool/wonderful/awful place." This is not how I write. It is how George MacDonald writes, and Piers Anthony to some extent.
I don't invent stuff. I recycle stuff. This is why I'm not J.K. Rowling or Piers Anthony or even Anne McCaffrey. I don't want to create an entire world from the rock up. I just want to add enough to support my characters as they go through all their little problems and make me feel better about my life.
So, while I could invent new names for all the various shrubberies and ferns and trees and flowers in my fictional forest, I'd rather not. Which leaves me researching Earth-type forest environments for all the little doodads and whatsamahooies that will make fighting in a forest harder or easier.
Before you say it, you're absolutely right. I've painted myself into my corner and I'll just have to sit here until it dries. Or tear the house down and live in a sleeping bag.
On a brighter note, writing continued last night back in the forest. Now my issue is whose viewpoint shall tell this chapter? I've settled on Merritt. He should get to talk while he can, right?
Mwahahahahahaaha!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The Forest Is Clearing
Writing screeched to a halt when I left the beach and returned to the party members who remained in the forest. Drat. Research could not be postponed any longer.
TT: Those of you following Ranunculus Turtle the Facebook Page might remember a tiny status rant that ended with the plea for death followed by the pronouncement of going to bed. Yes, I was an unhappy turtle. And that was only 5 minutes in.
Not saying the research has gone anywhere. Something in me rebels at searching. I don't care how easy Google makes it. I don't want to do it. I don't even want to look for a picture of a druidy kind of forest. Do you know how many pics of Yellowstone are on the Internet? Neither do I, but a lot. Like 10+ pages.
TT: What the heck is Morning Glory Pool anyway? What is wrong with that water? Is there glass over it? I don't understand!
I tried looking at topographical maps of Russia and Alaska and North America, which would be the closest kinds of terrain to York. I discovered I can't read topographical maps. Sorry, Dr. Iliff.
Really, the whole thing just sucks eggs.
One thing I did learn is ferns grow in Alaskan forests.
TT: Oops. Did a little rhyming there. I sometimes wonder if I have Welsh in my Scottish bloodline. I tend to alliterate like Eliza Doolittle's dad when I'm not paying attention. Odd, since I'm rhythm-deficient in other areas of my life.
Back to the ferns. The problem with having ferns in an Alaskan-type forest is the connotation of ferns with tropical jungles. The problem with the whole thing is the void of common descriptors for "forest" that lend themselves easily to melee-topography.
TT: For the non-English-speaking readers of this blog, i.e., anyone from Kansas, I'm having trouble describing the area where the fighting happens.
Yeah, yeah, this is the burden of being a writer. This is why not everyone does it (or should do it).
On a bright note, the "dense" fog lifted a bit more and I realized the natural place for Raven to live is in a tree. Duh. Druid. Tree.
Feel free to smack me the next time we meet. You'll know where to hit by the hand-shaped bruise on my forehead.
TT: Those of you following Ranunculus Turtle the Facebook Page might remember a tiny status rant that ended with the plea for death followed by the pronouncement of going to bed. Yes, I was an unhappy turtle. And that was only 5 minutes in.
Not saying the research has gone anywhere. Something in me rebels at searching. I don't care how easy Google makes it. I don't want to do it. I don't even want to look for a picture of a druidy kind of forest. Do you know how many pics of Yellowstone are on the Internet? Neither do I, but a lot. Like 10+ pages.
TT: What the heck is Morning Glory Pool anyway? What is wrong with that water? Is there glass over it? I don't understand!
I tried looking at topographical maps of Russia and Alaska and North America, which would be the closest kinds of terrain to York. I discovered I can't read topographical maps. Sorry, Dr. Iliff.
Really, the whole thing just sucks eggs.
One thing I did learn is ferns grow in Alaskan forests.
TT: Oops. Did a little rhyming there. I sometimes wonder if I have Welsh in my Scottish bloodline. I tend to alliterate like Eliza Doolittle's dad when I'm not paying attention. Odd, since I'm rhythm-deficient in other areas of my life.
Back to the ferns. The problem with having ferns in an Alaskan-type forest is the connotation of ferns with tropical jungles. The problem with the whole thing is the void of common descriptors for "forest" that lend themselves easily to melee-topography.
TT: For the non-English-speaking readers of this blog, i.e., anyone from Kansas, I'm having trouble describing the area where the fighting happens.
Yeah, yeah, this is the burden of being a writer. This is why not everyone does it (or should do it).
On a bright note, the "dense" fog lifted a bit more and I realized the natural place for Raven to live is in a tree. Duh. Druid. Tree.
Feel free to smack me the next time we meet. You'll know where to hit by the hand-shaped bruise on my forehead.
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