I’d like to take a moment to thank everyone who dug Vivaldi recordings out of their collections and lent them to me unasked. I now have over six hours’ worth of Vivaldi music, which is perfect for my current writing soundtrack.
Anyone have any Geminani? (Kidding. I’m kidding!) (Although now it would be interesting to find out if anyone has some, just for trivia’s sake.)
Today was a dull, gloomy, very rainy day. And I ignored it all, and wrote all day long instead. The novella now stands at total of 11,174 words, which means 4,193 new words today (whee! — not that this is going to happen often). I encountered an interesting development in the form of passive-aggressive insistence from a character whom I had intended to be an old, dour, stubborn obstacle somewhere down the line insinuating herself into the storyline as a young, charming, sympathetic woman. I shall have to make the obstacle the board of governors instead.
I went to orchestra tonight feeling not as bad I generally have been feeling because I managed to get some practice in today, and it showed when I played the Beethoven. Unfortunately, I ignored the other pieces in favour of the Beethoven symphony because it’s what needed the most work, and that showed too, particularly because we played them last and my right hand has been stiff all day, so I kept fumbling the bow as well as missing fingering. Although I console myself with the fact that twice tonight, the Beethoven was so good that my throat closed up and I had to fight back a feeling of being swept away by the music.
Our principle cellist is test-driving a new cello, and she let me try it at break. Oh, it was so gentle on the fingers. I’ve been told by luthiers that my cello is remarkably easy to play, but it requires pounding and sawing in comparison to this one, which was incredibly soft and gave almost no resistance at all to fingers or bow. It felt as if it was cooperating in the creation of sound, as opposed to being played. I played a band solo on it, and some of the new sequences from the latest song we’ve been working on, and it was… well, I keep saying it over and over, so there’s no point in belabouring it: My cello was stiff in comparison. Although it made me despair somewhat, I’m glad I had the chance to play it because now I know how good a cello can be, and that’s the kind of thing I can look for when I eventually get to a point where I can seriously shop for an upgrade.
And from the file marked “Eep”, I realised tonight that we only have one more regular rehearsal before the concert date. I’m not quite sure when that happened. Possibly when the last half of October got eaten by my book deadline.
Dear Word:
Please stop autocorrecting the word “planing” to “planning” in my document. If I’m talking about a luthier’s workshop, I truly do mean planing, as in using a tool called a plane to shave thin curls of wood off a flat surface such as a plank of wood. Contrary to what you may think, I am not dumb, nor am I misspelling the word, and your assumptions to the contrary are not appreciated. In fact, I’m going to turn the autocorrect function off, and I don’t know why I haven’t done so yet in this story.
No love,
Me.
Another 1,700 words in the story yesterday afternoon, bringing me up to 6,981. I now know more about obscure Baroque intruments than I ever thought I’d know.
As I expected, I’m feeling a bit of resistance to working on this novella. I’m experiencing the odd double sensation of wanting to be writing because I enjoy it (when it’s flowing, of course), and not wanting to be writing because it’s work and I’m understandably rather weary of setting words down. And because I began with a vague idea and started writing to discover what happens, I don’t have an outline to fall back on to see what I should address next when I exhaust my current scene. Or rather, I have a few jotted notes that describe various events and conflicts in the story, but I need to write a bridge from where I am now to get to the first one. I’m going to put the word [bridge] in square brackets and highlight it, and then just start writing that first event today. Writing that event will give me a better idea of what needs to happen in the [bridge] section.
Today I will also practice the Beethoven at least once, hopefully twice. Yes.
Oh, my goodness. A subwoofer makes all the difference. These Vivaldi cello sonatas and concertos? Positively creamy. A dark cream, but creamy nonetheless.
Liam fell asleep in the car on the way home from shopping, and I managed to not only get him out of the car without waking him up, but inside the house, into his crib, and out of his jacket. I’m feeling pretty darn smug, let me tell you. Of course, he’s going to be ravenous when he eventually wakes up, because he fell asleep before he could have his lunch, but now I have the time to fix his sandwich and potatoes without the boy having a minor meltdown about how cruel I am to keep him waiting the five minutes it takes to prepare his meal. I’ll just keep them warm. And then after lunch it’s off to visit with his godparents!
As an antidote to all that feeling smartness, I feel dumb because I can’t collapse the new umbrella stroller we used. At all. I like to think it’s jammed, but I probably just can’t remember the correct combination of push-here bend-there it requires.
A perfect day. Except for the cold coming back with a vengeance and settling in my chest, that is.
I turned out 3,095 words in Il Maestro e le Figlie di Coro, which is shaping up to be a novelette or novella and not a story at all. It stands at 5,281 words already.
I made beef stew, which has another half-hour to go in the slow cooker, and we’ll have it with the rest of the mashed potatoes seasoned with onion and sour cream that I made for feast following yesterday’s Samhain ritual.
I walked to the post office this morning to pick up a parcel from my mother, who sent me the two books she’d promised to lend me at Christmas, a selection of magazine clippings, and imported British chocolate bars as food for the soul now that the book has been handed in.
And on top of it all, I discovered that the set of speakers and subwoofer I’d been eyeing to replace those that died this weekend is on sale this week, at 50% off the regular price.
Yes, indeed. The day’s been a very good one.
So now it’s on to delicious stew, a soothing warm bath, and reading in bed for a while.
Two problems.
One: I am astonished to discover that I have next to no Vivaldi recordings. I have the ubiquitous Four Seasons and an album of double concerti (for the double cello concerto, of course), and once upon a time there was also my beloved Il Giardino Armonico The Red Priest album that was enthusiastically lent to someone (who?) the week after I got it and subsequently lost track of it, but that seemed to be it until I remembered that all my cello CDs are on a different shelf. Still, there are only two more albums of cello concerti and sonatas there. Sounds like it’s time to invest in a couple of low-budget CDs of general instrumental stuff, and the Gloria, at the least. (Naxos, you are my friend.)
Two: The speakers I’ve been using for my computer have finally died. They died an honourable death, being the first set of high-quality speakers I received with my Discman back when I was seventeenish, so they’ve been in steady use for eighteen years or so. The only problem is that my sound card doesn’t have a speaker on it, so I’ve had to hunt out my big cushiony headphones and the cable extension to reach to the port on the back of the computer tower. Working with headphones is very odd. I’m not sure if I like it or not yet.