Category Archives: Writing

Life Is Determined To Unhinge Me

Yes, because an unstable hard drive threatening failure is precisely what I need right now.

Blade, if you could stop by tonight, I’d really appreciate it. I’ve done all I can without your expertise. (I’m probably blowing my chances of a third-degree Geek Cord by calling in a friend, but a hard drive is a hard drive, not a card or a peripheral.)

I’m going to go back up while I can. Then I think I’ll go cry, then beat something up.

ETA: Hang on — it’s my back-up drive that’s had the biscuit. It’s not even registering as being on the computer. Still not good, of course, but at least it’s not the end of the world, either. I’m going to back up to CDs, because I don’t trust anything today. Blade, it still wouldn’t hurt for you to come scowl at it.

Swan Sister Update

Thank you, Liam, for sleeping a full two hours so that I could handle correspondence and news, brainstorm a bit on what I might do with the potential book I’ve been offered, and then spend forty-five minutes writing for myself.

Total word count, Swan Sister: 20,297
Total new words today: 1,605

And the story has just taken an interesting direction. Well, something had to happen before the next plot point. And it’s directly related to the theme and overarching plot of the second part of the book, so it’s all good. More rituals coming up, though. Sigh.

Whee!

‘Cause it’s much with the proposals, and even being asked if I want to write a fun book I didn’t dream up myself, which I could do in my sleep. (Almost. You know what I mean: I’m that familiar with the topic, and it’s practical information and lots of spells and such, not the deep philosophical metaphysical slippery spiritual stuff that always takes longer than I think it will.)

And honestly, I could do two at once, even if they both have early 2007 delivery dates, because they’re all so very different. (Just so long as they don’t have the SAME delivery date, because that would mean handling rewrites and copyedits for two different books at the same time, and please just kill me if that happens because even the barest hint of that thought makes me weak and wibbly and wanting to dig a hole in the corner of my office in which to hide. Gah. Back to the good thoughts.) It’s not like I don’t usually have three or more things on the go at the same time as a rule anyhow, simply to give my brain somewhere else to work when I hit a wall on one thing or another. And they’d all have saner deadlines than two months from now, because while doing one book on an unusual deadline like that is barely doable, but two at once? Impossible. (I am a goddess, yes, but there are limits to my goddessyness. My thoughts go veering back to that hole in the corner of my office.)

And if they’re all accepted, then we can simply schedule them over the next couple of years. Then I’d have multiple books coming out two years in a row, eight to ten months apart. (Hmm, is that a sense of deja vu? I think it is. Except not the insane deadlines or the to-the-rescue parts. And yay on that.)

While the proposal ideas got good response when casually discussed, they’re all being officially formally presented next week now that I’ve finished polishing them and have submitted the final drafts. I’m all bouncy and excited about it. I’m sure you couldn’t tell.

Oddly enough, the seasonal spellcrafting proposal is the idea I’m the least excited about out of the three I could be writing next. Or perhaps it’s not odd, because it’s the idea I’ve had the longest and I worked out all my bounciness about it two years ago, while everything else is shiny and new. And then there’s that series proposal that I did that isn’t really a potential assignment for me, but I’m excited about it anyhow, cause it’s my baby as well.

All right. I should stop bouncing here and do something else.

Melancholy

I’ve been pretty down for the past couple of weeks. I’m tired, too. I think the last year has finally caught up with me. And I know it doesn’t get any easier.

Everything I own smells damp and musty because of the weather, even the furniture. I hate clothes that smell damp and musty. They come out of the drawers smelling like they need to be washed.

Yesterday started out well enough, took a severe turn for the worse mid-afternoon, crashed and burned late afternoon, was salvaged by an unexpected phone call offering me some help that made me cry because I have such thoughtful friends who are willing to go out of their way, went south again until Liam finally fell asleep ten minutes before people arrived for a meeting, and then ended on a welcome calm note thanks to a tranquil and restful Solstice ritual led by one of our coveners.

Today began badly, improved somewhat, and looked to be okay until Liam fell and chipped a tooth. There was blood along the gum from the blow, which wasn’t my concern so much as the tooth being displaced. It’s a minor chip, but enough that I notice it when he nurses. The thing doesn’t seem to be wiggling, but it does seem to be slightly further back that it was before — and when I say slightly, I mean only a couple of millimeters. And the kid did it by trying to climb up on the baseboard heater to give him a bit of extra reach to play with the windowsill in his room. I gave him cold water to drink from a grown-up glass and a cool teething ring from the fridge. He was fine five minutes later.

The yay of the situation: he can climb up on things now. Including the foot-high lap desk Ceri gave me a few summers ago, which makes such a lovely low altar. I found him standing on it the morning after Sunday night’s ritual, touching books a whole shelf higher. He gave me such a pleased look that if I’d had any notion of being upset (I hadn’t) I wouldn’t have been able to bring myself to get there. If he gets into the bathroom before the child gate goes up, he leans on the edge of the bathtub and tries to hoist a leg up on it to get in. (Yes, he loves his baths.)

The boo of the situation is that being higher means more of a fall.

Let’s see, more random Liam stuff that I keep forgetting to mention: he can applaud, and does so frequently. Sometimes he says “Yay!” while he does it. He can sit quietly and concentrate on a movie for about fifteen minutes or the opening story sequence on Sesame Street. When music plays he smiles and bangs his open hand on his thigh or a table to keep time. I’ve heard him singing to himself, too, when there’s no music on and he’s alone. He’s further exploring the idea of putting small things inside larger things. Everything that fits into the sorting bin now goes into it, including toast. Wheels are still awesome. I got him a whole video of things that drive, fly, roll, and so forth, and he adores it.

As I am now officially carless thanks to HRH’s new job (for which he absolutely needs transportation throughout the day to get from job site to job site), Jeff just came to pick Liam up and take him back to his godparents’ place for their Tuesday afternoon playdate in order to allow me to get work done. I was going to try the bus to see if the two hour round trip was worth the loss of the nap for Liam and the two hours I’d have alone before HRH brought the boy home on the way back from work, but they offered to pick him up instead to give him his after-lunch nap and to give me as much time as possible. (See why I cried when I got off the phone?) I still don’t know what we’re going to do about the weekly Friday date Liam has with his grandma on the south shore; I don’t even have the option of public transport for that. Jeff has offered to help out there too, but that’s an hour out of his day, and I would like to preserve that as a last resort. If HRH is at one location for the whole day on a Friday, he’s going to look into the option of me dropping him off and picking him up when the day is done so that I can have the car. I really hope that’s doable, because to lose my Fridays at this point when I desperately need them to work on my own is inconceivable.