Category Archives: Writing

Story

I woke up at 4 AM this morning again, and as I lay awake, I worked out a story. I fell asleep again around 5.30, and when I woke up at 9, I turned on my laptop and wrote it.

Gone were the beautiful turns of phrase I had developed in bed, and the pacing is definitely different, but I have an entire six-page story done, finished. (For those who have been conditioned to think in numbers as of last November, that’s a respectable 1,866 words.)

I need to do this more often. I used to imagine entire scenes in bed as I tried to fall asleep all the time. (My other productive time was in class at school, where I was trying to not fall asleep. Go figure.) Perhaps when my headaches lay me low I ought to go lie down in a dark room and let inspiration hit. It would certainly be productive, and it wouldn’t hurt my eyes so much as trying to read does.

On Dreams Etc

My parents are back from their trip to Italy, and when my mother called last night she sounded like she’d been roaming the pages of Janson’s History of Art, pages 278 to 473 inclusive (in the third edition; YMMV depending on the edition you consult, of course). I’m extremely happy for them; it sounds like they enjoyed themselves immensely, but I am just a teensy bit jealous. It comes from being so well educated, I think. If I’d never learned anything about art or history or Western Culture, then I’d have no reason to be envious, would I?

I’ll be interested to see the success rate of this dreaming true thing I’ve been experiencing on and off. Some events I’d like to see happen, such as the wedding of two friends at a particular time of year, or last night’s dream of a film starring Tom Cruise and Carrie-Anne Moss. Then there are others which I’d rather not see happen, like being told by a book rep during the winter that Terry Pratchett has just died. I think I’d like to be completely wrong on that last one, thanks.

Today, I sit down with my first NaNo novel and edit, edit, edit. This will be Edit No. 4, and, I think, the final edit before I write query letters and choose sample chapters to submit to an as-of-yet undetermined list of publishers. One of my cats has graciously consented to be in my presence this morning, so maybe today I’m not as cranky as I have been. Or perhaps she’s just acting out of pity, and it’s pure charity. Whatever her motivation, today will feature Maggie, laptop, peppermint tea, and lotus incense. And Mozart, whose music appears throughout the novel. (Yeah, I know; a CD tray full of Mozart should drive me crackers by about noon. I’ll strike back with Tori Amos when I can’t stand it any more.)

A Healthy Sense Of Humour

Dinner’s being made, so I’m still noodling about on the Wondrous Wide World of Web.

In seeking an author web site I found a welcome page for a hosting service which included the following:

Disclaimer:

Almost all of these sites assume you, Gentle Reader, don’t have a problem with one, more, or all of the following, and moreover that you are of a legal age, height, weight, state of mind, state of reason, or state of confusion to view this content in your community, city, town, village, borough, township, county, region, ZIP or Postal Code, state, province, area or city code, time zone, country, continent, hemisphere, planet, solar system, galaxy, or parallel dimension to view the content therein. Not all views expressed are those of Mike and Lorrie, and I’m quite certain that views expressed by some of the sites’ administrators are not shared by others. Viva free speech!

Non-Christian religions:

Neither Lorrie nor Mike follow an Abrahamic faith. Few of their friends do either. If that bothers you, browse somewhere else. This means that sites hosted here are cheerfully pagan, and almost all are of a Teutonocentric bent. That means Germanic. That does emphatically not mean “racist prat.” Just so we’re clear.

Unusual spiritual practices:

Not only do we worship strange gods, but we wholly advocate doing odd things with them once you have Their attention. Magic, poring over quaint, dusty volumes of forgotten lore, several other things. Mind you, people who didn’t bail after the first one probably aren’t going to leave us here, but I thought you should know.

I like people who display healthy senses of humour. It’s good for the soul.

Apparently NASA had a sense of humour at one point too, but the proof’s been removed:

Told for the truth, guys. NASA actually has a document on what to do in case of a Viking Raid. Here at last is proof that NASA and the government does have a sense of humor after all! (Has now been moved from the original NASA site…updated as of 11/17/99) (Found on this list of barbarian literature, of all places. I’m looking for Diana Paxson links, okay?)

Various Things

“Want to watch The Fellowship of the Ring tonight?” I ask my husband as we finish unpacking groceries and washing dishes. I’m antsy, waiting for the theatrical release of The Two Towers to come out on DVD in a month.

He checks the clock; evaluates his mood; thinks about bedtime, and where to work dinner in.

“Sure,” he says.

It’s not just like tossing in a Disney movie, after all. You’re talking about a four-hour commitment, for which you’ll probably have to pack a lunch, or at least a snack.

To my astonishment, I discovered today that Emily has linked me on her writing blog! You all remember my references to Emily Horner and her word count acting as my stick and/or carrot from last November, I’m sure? I stop by her writing log every week or so. I tend to read entries as opposed to scanning links on the blogs that I read (although for kicks sometimes I click on a random link on someone’s page), so I have no clue when this happened, but I’m terribly tickled. I’m always tickled when I find that somone who isn’t a personal friend, who only knows me from my blog or on-line presence, has linked me.

And finally, from Caitlin R Kiernan:

“Where do you get your ideas?” Strike that. Reverse it.

“Where do they get me?”

When Less Is Not More

Well, when I said last week that the cello section was getting smaller but better, I didn’t mean to suggest that even less was more. Tonight we only had two celli present – myself, and one other. And of course, we sight-read completely new music: Bizet, Sibelius, and that odd Overture for an Unwritten Comedy which was written by a Canadian in the 1950s, and sounds like it. (No value judgement implied; I quite like some of the Canadian compositions from the latter half of the last century. It’s just that this piece is going to contrast sharply with the others on the program.) None of us had heard it before, so we had no clue what we were aiming for.

On the other hand, the Sibelius was divine: slightly melancholy, slight macabre (even more so when Douglas gave us the story in a nutshell: a dying old woman, mistaking Death standing in the doorway for her long dead husband, rises and dances with him), and of course, in waltz time, my favourite. The Bizet was, well, Bizet. I have a love-hate relationship with Bizet. I like him sometimes; I hate him sometimes, usually when I’m playing his music. The rest of the time I’m terribly neutral about him.

A couple of people stopped by as we were packing up our instruments, and said that the celli had sounded quite good tonight. My fellow cellist looked at me after one such comment and said wryly, “Why do these compliments sound like condolences?” Okay, so we two aren’t necessarily the strongest among the section, but we were sight-reading new music, after all, and apart from losing our place for a bit here and there, we didn’t make any horrible mistakes.

In fact, I felt so good about what I did tonight that, as I did last week, I left rehearsal wanting to race home and play some more. The drive took all the wind out of my sails, though, and now I just want to soak in a bath and read, except that I’ve finished Lincoln’s Dreams and I don’t want to read the non-fiction I have on the go. I’ve recently re-read all the other Connie Willis in the house, so I suppose I’ll wander around my shelves and pull something off at random.

Before I left tonight, my husband asked to read the two bonus chapters I wrote earlier this year to tie up loose ends in my NaNoWriMo novel. As I printed them out for him, I re-read bits and pieces of it. Damn, it’s good. When I feel uninspired, I really ought to read my own work more often to get myself back in the mood. I’ve been dragging my feet about getting back to work on the Great Canadian Novel because I don’t know enough about my protagonist’s choice of action. I discovered the skeleton of a fantasy novel on my laptop last week that I’d forgotten I transcribed a year ago, so I could work on that as well. I also have a non-fiction book drafted out, so I can’t even try to dodge writing by claiming that I have nothing different to work on. A young adult novel, a romantic comedy, a fantasy, and a non-fiction book; no matter how I feel when I get up in the mornings, I ought to be able to work on at least one of my projects. My reluctance to plunge into the GCN is colouring my whole writing approach, though, I think. I don’t want to keep going until I know more, otherwise it just won’t ring true. Sending a protagonist overseas when you don’t know the city she’s headed to is dicey.

Of course, this means I have to travel to France. Just for research, you understand.

Offhand

After an hour and a half break to take an Advil, make and eat dinner, and have a glass of wine, I’m back at the computer. Hey, don’t try to stop me. I’ve been restless and not-work-y for the past ten days; let me work while I’m happy to work!

Besides, it benefits two parties: the employer who needs this freelance work done, and me, because my work makes money so that I can buy more books. (This is serious. I’m currently in the throes of Egyptian and Norse mythology heaven, and I’ve got a list of titles I want as long as my arm.) Plus I’m multi-tasking: while one page loads, I’m searching out new links with the other.

Eventually I’ll stop, and I’ll watch Buffy or something. Speaking of, was anyone else left a bit off-balance by the Angel season finale? It was great, and tied up loose ends while preparing for a new season, but I guess I’m just too used to mass violence and cataclysm on Angel these days. There was surprisingly little cataclysmic action in this episode. It made for a nice break for the characters, of course – who, come to think of it, were left as equally off-balance.