This is what met me when I ventured up the stairs this morning:
Now I'm nervous. No doubt that's part of their plan.
Aug 302006
Aug 282006
One of the most frustratingly pointless items ever made would have to be an alarm clock which doesn't keep time. The blasted thing is gaining about twenty seconds a day. Now, I can cope with some time gain (better gain than loss; I like to scrape through in the mornings rather than have leisure time), but twenty seconds a day? It's now 13 minutes fast. That's too much leisure time in the morning; that's 13 minutes of stolen sleep every morning. That's surely against the Geneva Convention. (And if it's not, it should be.)
Aug 272006
Trivial reasons why living in Australia rawks part 10,782(a): Tim Tam biscuits. Now, I won't claim they're my favourite biscuit, since that honour belongs to the sadly almost-entirely-unavailable jaffa cake. But you need tim tams for …
Trivial reasons why living in Australia rawks part 10,782(b): the tim tam suck. Namely, hot chocolate sucked up through a tim tam biscuit1. There's a trick to it, because if you give in to fear then the tim tam doesn't instantly dissolve when you eat it, and you're missing the true impact. But get brazen and hold the moment too long and all you've got is chocolate-covered fingers and hot chocolate glooped over the table in front of you.
- Some people like coffee. These people are clearly freaks, and are missing the chocaholic coma that comes with combining multiple forms of chocolate in one indulgence. My mother once claimed port was a good idea, but me, I think it's a waste of good port and okay chocolate. Your mileage may vary. [↩]
Aug 262006
Aug 262006
Things I hate, part 7,000,003: the telephone.
Why is it that the telephone must be answered right this instant? Am I the only person in the world who doesn't feel this compunction? I am phonophobic in a world of phonophilics.
Things I did yesterday: shrieked like a banshee because there was a baby huntsman in the mail box, who was just as worried about finding himself suspended in midair on my hand as I was. Felt like a right royal fool when I realised it was only a huntsman spider, and a baby at that1, and checked to see if anyone was laughing at me. (If there was, they were out of sight.)
Why I didn't write yesterday: because I broke the synchronization between my laptop and my desktop, and it took me all last night to restore it. Colour me cranky.
- For the non-Australians, I don't know about spider sizes in your parts of the world. The full-grown huntsman is a large spider, mostly harmless to humans. The fear they evoke has to do with the fact that they will hang on your wall for days on end and then, an hour after you last looked, they'll have traversed the spider equivalent of leagues. Or, more terrifyingly, they'll be in your car. I can tell you that Suzanne found a baby huntsman in her bed on her visit to Aus, and declared it "huge", if that helps for size reference. Or else check out the photos here. [↩]
Aug 222006
Late yesterday afternoon, my newest toy arrived: a treadmill. In a fit of insanity, last weekend I gathered up the money I've been saving for the past year or so, and bought myself a treadmill. This means that, when I'm finished working for the day and I'm hankering for a walk, it won't matter that it's pitch-black and cold/windy/rainy outside. It also means that I can watch TV while I'm walking, which will occupy my attention more than the latest possum carcass by the side of the road.
The first thing I did, after watching the delivery man set up the machine, was to drive down to the local hardware store and buy a wire shelf, which I've attached to the handles via cable ties. This afternoon I tried out the brand new treadputer: laptop on the wire shelf, treadmill set to a low speed, I cranked out my daily quota quicker than I have done for a long time. The whole walking thing helps keep my mind focussed, and when a good song comes on I can always pause the writing and crank up the speed. It was quite refreshing, although I must admit that my lower back is a little tight and I'm now quite tired.
The one thing I hate about treadmills, though? Is how when I press stop, the solid ground starts to sway and my knees can't be trusted. Most disconcerting.
Today's scene (which has been the scene in progress for a couple of days now, actually) has been fighting me so far. Today it took an unexpected turn, but it still ended up in the same place so no damage done. In fact, I think it makes more sense this way. I even have a darling du jour today:
"You don't want to be dead. You just want to be a goatherd." He flashed a grin. "I'm told there's a difference, although I struggle to see it, myself."
Aug 192006
For some reason this afternoon I can't focus. And I don't mean focus in the sense of concentration, I mean my eyes literally keep fading out of focus. It's ace. Not. I think it has something to do with trying to merge my current installs of wordpress (I have three; this blog, the clarion blog, and a test blog) into one multi-blog install. But lo! apparently even the simple instructions are not simple enough for me. So I'll try again later, when I have more time. And more in the way of eyesight.
I didn't get a story ready for Charlie's slushbomb. I had sorta kinda planned to sub the current demon short story in progress, but after working on it all day I still wasn't finished. Not even finished enough that there's only the final polish left.
There's a few structural issues still to clean up, some transitions and such, and I still have to figure out how to make sure the reader follows the timeline. Advice anyone? The second scene is 12 months earlier than the first, and then scenes 3 and following are all 7 years after the second scene.
I originally wrote it with headings — Second Samhain, First Samhain, Seventh Samhain — but that relies on the reader knowing that Samhain is an actual day (some of the crit class didn't, so lesson one: never assume), and it's just so awkward.
Tomorrow morning I wade back in, and I am hopeful that I will wibble finish.
Also, one of my Clarion flatmates entertained us all throughout the six weeks with his musical stylings. (Not to mention insisting on a group rendition of Apple Sauce each week. And a rather memorable group rendition of A-Ha's Take On Me which may have broken a vocal chord or two.) And now, lucky people that you are, his band People People are now on MySpace, complete with songs to download for free so you all can have a listen, too. Sadly, there's no Apple Sauce; but after all, what happens at Clarion, stays at Clarion. Or something like that.
success
asides, journal, writing life
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Aug 182006
Deb Biancotti has a couple of interesting posts on success and writing: While the Getting's Good, and the follow-up post Successful Feeling.
Aug 162006
Because I can sense that darn black dog nosing her way back ever closer lately, I went and bought some St John's Wort tablets this morning. I've heard they help. We'll see. I also bought some ginseng tablets, because I know energy levels help.
Also, in an attempt to actually achieve some things today, I haven't started on the novel yet.1 Instead, I've started on little projects which I can complete in a day and cross off the list. One of these was a job application2. Another was that damned week six clarion story which still has no title. (I must admit I haven't exactly been trying hard to find a new title. First things first.)
The job application took a little over an hour. The short story…? Well, I've been working on it since midday, and I've only just hit the halfway point. I swear, I have broken this beyond all repair.
Maura recently summarised the whole revision process very accurately (for me, anyway):
Revising a story is always an interesting process. Usually it begins with great hopes, stalls in despair, and resolves through grim-faced determination.
Me, I'm stuck in the grim-faced determination phase. I'm currently stitching this poor, gutted story back together, convinced that even Frankenstein will look more attractive and animated.
Now, I've revised enough short stories that I know not to trust myself on this. Still. Right this very second? Hate this story.
But the cat is trying to sit on my shoulders, which means he figures it to be dinner time, and I figure I won't get anything more done till he's eaten.
- This will quite possibly make me feel frantic and behind the curve later on tonight; but I'm hoping that I'll be rational enough to ignore that. And that finishing a few things will counterbalance it. [↩]
- There's a lab position available where I work, which would certainly pay better than my admin position and yet is still part-time; so I figure why not apply? [↩]
Aug 132006
The ever-so-clever Rju has a post up about the momentum behind not writing:
The hardest thing isn't to write – it's to keep writing.
I'd quote more, but there isn't anything snippetable without stealing the entire passage. Suffice to say, that final Brood. Brood. Brood. made me want to both grind my teeth and laugh, it was so right.