hour upon hour of motivation fail

Today I mailed in my electoral enrolment details, officially changing my address to the state of Victoria. On Thursday I have an appointment to transfer my licence from a NSW one to a Victorian one, and to transfer the car's registration likewise. This is it, people: after Thursday it's official. This is no longer just some kind of cheap version of an international working holiday visa.

I had a visit from my family over the weekend, which resulted in the greatest steady consumption of alcohol I have enjoyed since arriving in Melbourne. (My family: we drink to survive each other's company.) Clearly I'm going to have to step up my game when it comes to socialising down here. Do you know, I still don't know the location of (m)any watering holes? That's an appalling lapse of judgement.

The new plan for the writing routine, namely dropping into the library after work, has hit the week-two snag. It's always week two that trips me up. (Sometimes week two is actually week three. As in this case. But I'm sure my point stands, provided you define week two as "the novelty has worn off, but the habit hasn't quite worn in". Which, I'll grant you, is very different to the standard "the second week" definition normally applied to week two. Yeah, my head. I don't make the rules, I just live inside it as best I can.) This week I have hit the I-don't-wanna's, and it's a bit of a slog to convince myself on leaving the dayjob that I really do want to walk to the library and sit down and start working on something else instead of going home and sitting in front of the tv and doing nothing. Meh. Here's hoping the habit wears in quickly.

Still, I got my words and change today, in time to go and see an evening session of Wolverine, which … yeah. About that.

you mean i have to come up with a title as well?

Stupid o'clock hurt just as much today, but it was nonetheless a smidge easier. It is just possible I might be settling into a routine. Huzzah! (About time!) Of course, my new routine means I'm yawning from about midday onward, and I'm crawling into bed at ludicrous o'clock in the evening, when everyone else is just about starting to wind down and thinking about phoning me to catch up. So there are some issues. But the getting of words always comes with issues of one kind or another.

In non-writing news, I'm not sure if it's just the learning, to which I've always been partial, or the pedantry, to which I've always had a predilection, but the new dayjob… is interesting. :shock: (And huzzah!)

Right, back to the getting of words.

this is the part where i start making no sense during a conversation

A productive day on the short story today; I finally, after days of false starts, feel like I'm getting somewhere. (Did I mention I think outlining in advance is much more efficient? I did, didn't I? Although, to be fair to my poor beleaguered brain, this story is not entirely without (my kind of) outline. I know the characters, and their motivations, and I know the arc of the story. It just wasn't flowing.)

I've hit the end of the first third, and this is the dangerous time. This is the time when the world-building starts to reinforce itself and remind me I need to actually include it in the story, not just in my head. The characters start doing things which remind me I haven't foreshadowed that particular motivation yet, oops. The plot starts to hang on a few threads I'd meant to set up, honestly, I knew I meant to, I just got sidetracked.

Do you see the danger? This is the point in the story when I want to go back and start revising. And I am not allowed to, on pain of never finishing a story death.

This is the point where I start racing, wanting to get to the end so I can revise, and simultaneously I start toying with the idea of just tweaking this paragraph, just this section, just this whole manuscript so far. Because I hate the idea of the start of the story being broken, and not matching the ending, and what if I do forget the changes I need to incorporate, even though I've just taken the time to write myself a copious note in the margin?1 I've even toyed with the idea of letting myself write two drafts of this story simultaneously, writing the first draft and then, as a reward once I'd hit the day's quota, opening a fresh copy and revising as I go.2

Also, I am really, really tempted to name this story after the lyrics in a Cyndi Lauper song. That would be wrong, wouldn't it? It could also be expensive, which would definitely make it wrong.3

  1. This is not entirely an irrational fear. I've written myself some very strange notes in the margin in my time. I swear I thought they all made sense at the time, but that does not always mean they make sense on the second pass. At least short stories generally have less time between passes, so there's more chance I'll remember. []
  2. Writers really is nuts. Who would think that's a reward? []
  3. But I still wanna. []

nose to the grindstone

Pledged is duly rechapterised, and I'm celebrating by … starting another project straight away.

Yeah, it's not particularly smart, there's this little thing called downtime which I hear is really effective in guarding against burnout… but this project (untitled, like all my new projects, which makes blogging about them tricksome at best) is a short story, and contracted, so I kinda hafta start it now. If I want to, you know, eat. No biggie.

I also have one (contracted) novel outline, one short story collection critique, and one (uncontracted) (for now) novel outline that needs doing sooner rather than later. It's a good thing I don't have a dayjob at the moment. When I quit the baby mines, everyone was saying things like, "Oh, wow! Two months off work. Think of all the sleeping in you'll be able to do!" I always smiled and nodded, but in my head I was replying, "Actually, I was thinking if I got up early every day, I'd be able to squeeze in even more writing!"

It's a sickness. Really.

Here, to distract you, have some links:

you know that second book you promised…?

Aaaaannnnd…..book.

Or at least, close enough to call it book. I still need to go through and check my chapter lengths, because I have a feeling (er, I know) they got dangerously out of control in the second half of the book, what with all the revisioning. I have a nasty habit of not bothering with scene or chapter breaks. Ludicrously short or asphyxiation-inducingly long, that's how I write if left to my own devices.

Those of you who've read Shadow Queen will have a hint what I'm talking about, because you'll have noticed the book is basically ONE SCENE with convenient page breaks thrown in, courtesy of my editor (because a) she's nice and b) she didn't want my reading public to fall over dead, or alternatively to hunt me down and beat me over the head with a book that didn't let you get any sleep because you couldn't find a convenient place to stop reading). Trust me when I say my beta readers have suffered.

I did somehow manage to add over 10,000 words to this draft. That's proper words, not manuscript-words: I added nearly 20,000 of the latter. Luckily, I also cut almost as much as I added, so the book is currently at 120,000 manuscript words, or 100,000 actual words, so right on target. (Although a 20% discrepancy between actual and manuscript count bugs me. That's a lot of white space. But perhaps the rechaptering will fix that.)

It occurs to me the problems I was having with the previous drafts of this novel might have been because I, um, skipped bits. Just maybe.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I plan to celebrate. By doing no novel writing whatsoever for the rest of the night rechaptering. (Yeah, I know…)

a glimpse of banality

As a brief addendum on the when can I buy it? issue, I am reliably informed at least one store is talking about December 19 as the on-shelf date. Make of this information what you will.

I have spent most of the weekend pondering the pc vs mac dilemma, and am no closer to an answer. I suspect I desire a MacBook for three very important reasons: the pretty, the Scrivener, and the avoidance of Vista. But are these enough to make the switch? H'mm… I have researched the word processing options available on the Mac, and am not thrilled with iWork's Pages inability to save in rich text format as a default option. Exporting a file all the time? Bugger that for an idea, if you'll excuse the vernacular.

Anyway. While I'm sure the inner workings of my mind, and my inability to make a snap decision, are of the utmost interest to you all, perhaps I'd best move right along, eh?

Unfortunately for the lot of you, there's very little to move on to, my free time at the moment being entirely consumed by the novel revisions, so I will leave you with an absolute corker of a malapropism I discovered today (but cannot find again now to link to or take a snapshot of) buried in the reviews of apple's time capsule:

It's an ascetically pleasing addition…

back again (did you miss me?)

Apologies for the extended silence; it was unavoidable.

I've not been idle while I wasn't here, but madly revising a novel and crying out "What was I thinking?! No, really, can you read this sentence and make a guess at what I might have been thinking? It doesn't seem to have a verb in it, so it's not conveying much in the way of information"… well, it doesn't make for exciting micro-blogging, really.

One thing I did discover was that my camera has a sepia setting, among other customisable settings.1 So of course I spent some time running around, taking photos on random settings. Naturally, a large percentage of these photos were of the cats.

Sometimes the delay on a digital camera gives you that perfect moment's capture

Sometimes the delay on a digital camera gives you that perfect moment's capture

Max was a little (okay a lot) more boring, but gee sepia suits brown cats

Max was a little (okay a lot) more boring, but gee sepia suits brown cats

  1. Okay, I knew it had customisable settings. It just took me a while to find them. Little buggers were hidden. You know, beneath the MENU button. Who woulda thunk to look there? []

lose some, win some

In the lose-some department, news from my agent is that one of the UK publishing houses considering Shadow Queen has decided to pass. C'est la vie.

In the win-some department, Google Alerts is a dangerous wonderful thing. Today it informed me that Issue #18 of PostScripts Magazine will be released in Spring 20091, and will contain my story, "The Wages of Salt". Okay, so this isn't new news, since this is a sale I made long enough ago that I've long since been paid and spent said payment, but it still counts, because I'd forgotten about this story and am excited to see it slated for a firm publication date.

In the er…oops department, I really shouldn't have had that bourbon and coke. Now I'm sleepy.

  1. I'm presuming this is Northern Hemisphere Spring, so April-ish next year []

all of these hours, they will add up to a day

Sometimes I think my metaphors require more research than the rest of my novels' worldbuilding put together. It can be tricky, in a first draft, to hit a metaphor which is in keeping with the worldbuilding but at the same time not so unwieldy that a modern reader is going to stumble over it. Yesterday I spent a good twenty minutes researching the history of barbed wire (invented in the 1860's, in case you're curious, so barbed wire itself was out) and chasing mentions of the use of "thorny brush" as a fencing/deterrent which could have provided an analogous metaphor … only to realise that the simple fish hook, which has been around since time immemorial and requires no fancy descriptions to be understood by any reader, was a far more apt metaphor for the situation.

Um, yeah. This is how I spend my time. Willingly.

you know what your decision is, which is not to decide

The problem with drinking while working is that it can quickly turn into just plain drinking, and from there it's a short stumble to "work? what? yes, of course, definitely pour me another."

Er…oops.

To keep things language-focussed, I did start a new game of awarding "vocabulary points" to those who used neglected or difficult or otherwise-impressive words, which resulted in our drunken conversation being relatively highbrow. (Although I must admit, toward the end of the night, the words did get harder to pronounce. This is when I started up the corollary game of awarding "enunciation points".) And I made everyone play freerice (which has evolved from being just about vocabulary and is now also about maps, chemical symbols, learning foreign languages, and artwork), so although we were drunken idjits, we were charitable drunken idjits.

At least I managed to get half of my words for the day before becoming totally delinquent, so that should help minimise today's catch-up.

In the meantime, the evolution of vampire moths is unspeakably cool.