Category Archives: Weather, Seasons, & Celebrations

NaNo 2003, Day 10 recap

Thanks to Ceri’s presence yesterday, I hit 14,448 words. Yes, that’s about 5,500 words in one afternoon. There’s nothing that makes you write like the sound of someone else madly typing. I wanted to double my word count, but hitting 18,000 was a dream; I was so exhausted by seven o’clock that I had to admit defeat. Still, 5,500 is just shy of two-thirds of my goal, so I’m pleased. Ceri made me a little sticky-note with a secondary goal of 15,200 words on it on it, and I almost reached it. Granted, these goals were deliberately exaggerated, but they certainly kept me going! We also discovered that the perogies from the Russian shop nearby are absolutely delicious (thanks for the tip, Bev!), so the day was a remarkable success all around. Ceri made yummy spaghetti sauce for dinner, too.

I woke up feeling somewhat human this morning, which is a really pleasant switch from the sub-human feelings I’ve been experiencing lately thanks to this cold. I passed up the Remembrance Day services downtown at Place du Canada in favour of staying home where it’s warm; I’m not going to risk a relapse when I’m so close to getting rid of it. Every year I do a small ritual for Remembrance Day at eleven o’clock if I’m home, and this year was no different. I burn rosemary and a yellow candle, and marvel every year at how the beginning of November is full of ceremonies honouring the dead: Samhain, All Souls, Day of the Dead, Remembrance Day. CBC Radio Two sucker-punched me this year by playing the ‘Nimrod’ movement from Elgar’s Enigma Variations directly after live coverage of the Ottawa ceremony, reducing me to tears. This is a piece of music that unabashedly rips your heart to bits, and playing it with my second orchestra this year has only made me more sensitive to it.

On to writing! Let’s see: got my tea, my afghan, my laptop, my cats, and my stuffed ferret. I’m set.

Calling All Local SpecFic Fans!

I have a cold.

This would be a yucky thing at any time, but I am currently in the middle of a ton of Real-Life work that is pushing aside regularly scheduled stuff like orchestra, practicing (yes, it does happen), teaching, prep work for teaching, and writing.

Not only that, I’m working a convention this weekend. What convention, you ask? Why, ConCept 2003!

Do you like fantasy or science fiction and live in Montreal or nearby?

Do you know someone who likes science fiction or fantasy?

This Saturday is the 2003 edition of ConCept, Montreal’s annual non-profit, volunteer-run science fiction and fantasy convention. This year’s guest lineup is very impressive. There will be guest of honour speeches, discussion panels, gaming, author signings, a dealers’ room, screenings, a charity auction, an art show, and more.

Check out the website for information: www.monsffa.com/concept2003.html

What the website won’t tell you:

Robert J. Sawyer, 2003 Hugo award winner, will be there.
Karl Schroeder, 2003 Aurora award winner, will be there.

Admission info etc is on the site. Things kick off at 9:00 AM.

So yeah. I’m currently experiencing severe withdrawal from my NaNo work, as well as crushing guilt over the fact that I wanted to have a ton of exam and homework correction done this week. And on top of it all, I’m fighting this rotten sinus/throat/chest thing.

I’m grumpy.

NaNo 2003, Day 5

I had a wonderful day amid the snowstorms and onslaught of freezing rain and – 7 C temperature yesterday. Ceri came over to escape the chaos of her water-logged apartment and we revisited the dueling laptops/NaNo jams we had last November. Since the weather was dreadful my husband was home as well, and he engaged in his version of the NaNo process: drawing and colouring artwork. It was a wonderfully cosy day. We started with a pot of Lady Grey tea, and progressed to wine after four o’clock (still not sure if this aided or hindered word count), and for dinner we had the first chili of the season and apple crisp. All in all, it was a perfect way to spend a dreary November day. Working within a community really helps progress, I find; no one is distracting anyone else by doing something different, and there’s a feeling of support and companionship in the air. Even from the cats, who were terribly pleased that at last the humans had figured out the secret to happiness: curling up on a sofa or comfy chair and not moving for hours at a time.

I just checked word counts and we did pretty darned okay yesterday. Even my husband did some significant work. (And if we had an operational scanner, I’d show you, too. Stunning stuff.)

NaNo has really forced me back to my laptop, and I’m remembering what last year’s process was like. Although this is a completely different style of story for a completely different audience, I’m encountering the same odd problems now and again. This year, however, thanks to my solitary hour in the Second Cup with nothing but a notebook and a chai latte, I have An Outline. Now when I’m stuck, I can check the outline notes and just go on to the next idea. Combined with the things that I make up on the spot, it makes for a relatively shorter stretch of time spent staring at a blank screen.

And now that I’m back in the swing of creative writing at home, I really, really don’t want to go into work today. This weekend we’re doing two separate conventions, and the chaos of preparation will be insane. I want to stay home with my cats and my tea and my laptop and find out what happens next in my novel.

Although if I go out, I can come home with the new Sarah McLachlan album that was released yesterday. Hmm.

Current word count of Balsamic Moon: 9,075

NaNo 2003, Day 1

I wrote 1,035 words before bed last night. Not bad for forty-five minutes of work. Of course, everyone’s word counts leapfrogged past me today while I was teaching and rehearsing. My revenge is to write while they’re all off at a Hallowe’en party tonight. Muah-hah-hah-hah.

The Elgar Variations are dizzyingly difficult. The Puccini seems to be intuitive, but Elgar constantly changes tempo and rhythm, and thinks accidentals are integral, which sort of defeats the purpose of an accidental. And he obviously wasn’t a cellist – or, if he was, he was a virtuoso who thinks all celli ought to be able to play treble clef at high speed.

Emily, my noble foe, already it begins. Your 3,072 words mock me. Fear my psychic ferret.

Current word count of Balsamic Moon: 1,035

Just People

I just received news that the annual Hallowe’en party for which I create my costume has been cancelled this year. On one hand, this is bad news; I love this party. On the other hand, it’s just fine, because the only investment I’ve made in my costume this year so far is make-up. It also means I can tuck this idea away and use it next year. Voila! I am so prepared for 2004!

I had a wonderul weekend with Trish Telesco, our most recent visiting author. It’s always a good sign when the first thing an author says after she’s introduced to you is, “She’s wonderful! Can I take her home?” Turns out she’s done work under a pen name in the past for the US publisher I’ve signed on with, so we ended up talking business about potential titles over dinner on Saturday night. (Further proof that it is, indeed, a Very Small World.) There was a moment over dessert that made me freeze up under a coolness wave, when I realised that if she writes a title for this new series, I’ll be writing a two-page preface for it.

Having worked in the book business for twelve years means that I’ve met more than my share of authors, and have discovered that they’re Just People. More than that, being a writer myself, I know that creating books is Work, Hard Work. So when I hang out with authors, they’re just people who do the same thing I do. Of course, there’s a tiny part of my brain screaming that they’re Famous People Who Do What I Do, but that’s the fangirl part of me which is kept firmly under control. (At least, gods, I hope so! I don’t remember ever gushing to any of the authors I’ve hosted…)