Owls' Court

Book Update

Total word count, Wicca book: 37,849
Total words today:3,085

And this despite the headache.

My daily average output now works out to 2,912. Considering I've produced just under 40K in thirteen writing days, I'm rather pleased. I'm still burning myself out, though. That's me: optimistic but fried.

Once I've hit about 60K, then I'll settle down to the business of smoothing out, rewriting, and expanding, which will give me the last 20K. I'd like to be at that stage by February 21, which is certainly doable, as at the moment I'm barely 2K away from being half-way finished; that self-imposed deadline gives me two and a half weeks to make the manuscript flow better and fill in what gaps remain.

Today's themes: meditation, drawing down vs. aspecting (not the same thing, though most people conflate them), and chants.

Possessed Audio Equipment

I accidentally left my headset microphone on when I took it off for a break, and t! called me. We chatted for a couple of minutes, then I turned back to the monitor as we were signing off to discover that the mic had picked up random words and inserted them into my book:

if it was unthinkable in very own what if his head I am moving in his way you saw me here in the whole thing it is in her death is picking up and were still

"So your headset is writing creepy beat poetry for you," said t!.

It's tempting to leave it in for the word count, but I'd probably forget about it and confuse the heck out of the copyeditor.

Damn -- which reminds me that I got the second round of edits on the other book that was submitted to us at the beginning of November, and I have to go over them to clear up any odd stuff before we send it along to the author. It's due back on Friday. Argh!

Potpourri

Evil, evil headache. It has come and gone several times over the past thirty-six hours. Now it has come again. Perhaps if I hit my desk with my forehead enough it will ease the pain. (Hey, I'm hurting. Thinking straight is difficult.)

The weekend:

Excellent workshop on ancestors, with good company (although we're noticing when we gather certain people together, things can quickly devolve from intellectual and spiritual conversation to much more material subjects). Tips included Why To Not Serve Your Ancestors Whippets.

Fabulous graduation ritual led by a talented lady, and I am so very proud of all our students. Saw some I hadn't seen in ages. Classes begin again this week. (Break? What break?)

In a return to the Real Star Wars universe, Shawn Taylspinner finally escaped the torture of the Lusankya prison where he'd been incarcerated for two years, coincidental with the arrival of his original two Jedi companions Saiyedra Dubh and Angus Corsairr to rescue him. This synchronicity is perfectly in keeping with the dumb luck these three have always had. The escape/rescue was made much easier by the fact that Thrawn finally moved to smack Isard and take away her toys, distracting everyone. (Well, the concept of "easier" is on a sliding scale, really. Saiyedra and Angus dropped out of hyperspace in the middle of an Imperial civil war-type of scenario. Not overly conducive to sneaking about, or to preservation of life and limb.) It was good to revist these characters, and to finally allow them closure for this particular issue. And it was good to role-play with this group again, too.

Today: the goal is to hit 40K of the Wicca book, but with this pain in my brain I'll really be pathetically pleased with passing 35K.

Note to self: don't read books on buying houses just before bed. It's too depressing.

Work Update

Total word count, Wicca book: 34,764
Total words today: 2,671

I would have liked to have passed 35K, but I just didn't have it in me. I managed my 2.5K; I'm glad I got that, at least. When I actually managed to start writing, it flowed; it's just that I was so damned bored with the act of writing this book all day that I had immense difficulty bringing myself to do it.

Today's themes: Wiccanings and crossings.

And now I must jump, for it is ten to six, HRH isn't home yet, and I have set-up for the Crescent Moon open house at six o'clock. Eep!

Irony

It amuses the heck out of me that everywhere I look, I have friends and loved ones trying to lose weight, even when they look fine.

I, on the other hand, who could blow away in a strong wind, am trying to gain weight.

I find this humorous.

Attention, Gentle Readers

People, when I am trying to avoid work, you are all supposed to be posting like mad on your journals or uploading artwork or reviews or articles to your web sites or whatever I'm checking, so that I have adequate material to distract me.

You are being very little help at all. (Well, okay, except for the massive morals/values/ethics discussion that happened this morning over at Tal's LJ. That was decently distracting, not to mention thought-provoking.)

Gads, I hate Fridays. All I want to do is lounge and read something escapist and totally unrelated to what I'm writing. On Fridays, I truly hate my computer, my subject matter, and thinking coherently in general.

On the plus side, I have dragged 1,100 words out of the depths of my cobwebby mind so far today, which is more than I thought I'd done, but nowhere near as much as I wish I'd written.

Back to the grind, since there's nothing new out there to distract me. Hmph.

Not Helping

It began with Nixie talking to me in sweet little "miah?" type sounds. So I pushed the keyboard tray back under the desk, and she jumped up on my lap.

Surprise number one. Anyone who has met (or, more correctly, glimped) Nix knows that she's anti-social.

Then she started purring as I stroked her, and climbed up on my desk. She explored a bit, frequently returning to rub against my shoulders or chin as I leaned on the desk, reading. She butted her head against my cheek with her little "prfft" sound. (This is how Nixie purrs: "prfft, prfft, prfft," in short little bursts of air.)

Surprise number two.

Then she leaned against a stack of reference books and purred at them, chewing lovingly on the corner of Witches' Craft while I browsed more Internet articles.

She went off and sat on the side table for a bit, then came back and "prfft"ed at me a while. Then she saw I had a box of Wheat Thin crackers open next to me, and proceeded to start climbing inside the box.

She seemed surprised that I stopped her, and evidently concluded that it must have been a mistake, because she tried again.

Nixie is a tiny cat, and can make herself even smaller. Small enough to get her front half inside a cracker box, the opening to which is two and a half inches high and five inches across, I have discovered.

I pulled the box away from her and gave her a half cracker to satisfy her. I know she likes licking crackers. What the hell. It would keep her out of the box.

She licked it once, tried to pick it up in her paw, got bored, and I closed the box before she could try again.

Undaunted, she stuck her head and then her entire paw into my cup of cold tea.

Seriously. Who is this cat? Where is the pod?

Now she's sitting on top of one of the stacks of books on my desk, looking around. She's being unnaturally perky today. It's wonderful, but it's odd to have to keep an eye on her. I'm used to keeping half an eye on Cricket Mouse and Roman, not Nix.

Ooh, Pretty

I want to learn how to do this. Or at least have access to a talented and inexpensive hair stylist who can do it for me regularly.

Foiled!

I'm currently craving a lime Italian soda, and I'm fairly certain it's Elizabeth's fault for mentioning that she was drinking Lime Passion tea while writing yesterday.

I'd settle for a bottle of Stewart's Lime soda, but the shop around the corner that used to sell it closed around Christmas and never reopened. Alas.

Sciatica Advice

Here's a bit of sciatica-related advice I got from Rue. It's really helped me so far, because I tend to get my sciatic episodes when I get up from bed or after sprawling on the couch watching TV or a movie.

Sciatica was a nightmare when I was pregnant. Nothing short of falling unconscious takes even the slightest edge off that discomfort. I'm mostly used to it now. What I suggest for you is this. Whenever you stand up from a sitting position, or are standing for a long time, MAINTAIN PERFECT BODY ALIGNMENT. Meaning bring your knees together and stand up without twisting. Getting in and out of a car is the real test. Sit and then spin your butt and bring your legs over. Do the reverse to get out. When standing for while, bring your legs together, point toes straight in front of you and then take a step. The hormone relaxin will make you very limber, and I can't tell you how many times tried to get out of a chair without bringing my knees together and felt the sensation that my leg was coming out of its socket, followed by blinding nerve pain, LOL!

Coffee helps. I would have a cup or two daily, it helps with the fluid retention which affects sciatica.

There you have it: advice from a mom and a nurse! It's really amazing what a difference aligning the body makes before standing up. I was trying to stand with my legs shoulder-width apart for more support because I knew the pain would really get me. Go figure -- exactly the wrong thing to do.

Stuff

Things I forgot to mention over the past couple of days:

Roman jumped into the bathtub while it was full of water Wednesday night. (I was not in it at the time, being otherwise occupied in the bedroom preparing for said bath.) He was completely soaked. HRH was all for letting him walk around wet because it was the cat's fault in the first place for failing his Perception roll, but I pointed out the cat would probably end up trying to sleep on the bed and create a huge cold damp area which would make sleeping rather a cranky experience. He responded by patting the cat's back with a towel. I talked him through how to make a kitty burrito-like wrap and rub hard. Stupid cat.

I streaked my hair the other day, and while it was a lovely contrast of caramel and chocolate right afterwards, it's now sort of a general warm brown colour. Sleeping, of course, messes up my curls, which I dampen and comb through every morning, thus creating different curls that now blend the caramel and chocolate. Except, of course, right at the roots. So now I have defined caramel streaks at the roots, which then fade into a general warm brown about half an inch along. Whatever. At least I like the colour.

The acquisitions editor contacted me yesterday with an idea for a solo spellbook, and I expanded on the idea to propose a series written by different authors. The pub board loved it, and they think I'm amazing, and if it's implemented I get my first finder's fee ever. Um. It wasn't all my idea, but I won't argue with people thinking I'm wonderful. Particularly if they want to give me money.

I'm having my first cup of caffeinated tea this morning (La Mer Hemingway: ceylon flavoured with lemon and lime, mmm!), and it's hitting me a bit hard. I've been off caffeine for two months now, despite the occasional sip of Coke here and there, and I didn't expect a cup of tea to make my heart pound like this.

And it's author David Lodge's birthday today! Why is this important? It's important because analysis of his Booker Prize-nominated novel Nice Work constituted one-third of my master's thesis. Reading all his other academic-based literature kept me amused and relaxed enough to actually finish said thesis and graduate brilliantly, too. Anyone involved in college or university-level arts department, student or teacher, will get a kick out of his stuff.

As you were.

It's More Than Just Heavy Wallpaper

There are moments when a library becomes itself. The rest of the time is potential. The book collection, arranged by subject and author, latent with pleasures and instruction, is a library in Clark Kent mode. The crux where the book, the reader and the need collide like particles in an accelerator is its apotheosis, the library as Superword.

In the midst of all the claims that the library as an intitution is dying out, the current president of the ever-expanding London Library has a couple of rather insightful things to say.

Found via Booksquare, bless her heart.

So Very Done For Today

Total word count, Wicca book: 32,093
Total words today: 3,237

I wanted to at least hit a grand total of 32,000 before I stopped. I did. And now my back hurts. (Not that this is directly related to the word count; it is, however, directly proportional to the seven hours spent in this chair researching, writing, and sneaking peeks at people's on-line journals to give my brain a break.)

Today's themes: meditation, and rites of passage. Specifically Wiccanings, simply because they get done before crossings/funerals. I'm covering birth, adulthood, then death, in a logical sequence of one individual's lifespan. I'd forgotten how quickly rituals can create word count.

Only 7,907 words till the halfway mark! That's a mere three days of accomplishing my minimum quota of 2.5K. I could be half-done by Tuesday night!

And now: spaghetti for dinner. And we have fresh bread, so maybe garlic bread too. Mmm...

Not Quite

Favourite typo so far today: "As Wiccans believe that spools reincarnate..."

Current word count, Wicca book: 30,006

And onwards...

Gift From the Gods

Shut UP!

Do you know what just arrived?

My copy of Myth and Religion of the North: The Religion of Ancient Scandinavia by Turville-Petre. You know, the out-of-print rare volume I tracked down for under one hundred Canadian dollars in the UK, that wasn't going to arrive till early March?

Eeeeeee!

It's an amazing copy, too; tight, clean pages; no markings; no finger-soil on the edges; only a bit of shelf-wear on the top and bottom of the spine. It has that lovely old book smell. The binding actually cracks a bit when I open it anywhere except at the photo plates. I don't know if anyone has ever even read this book; I think it might have just sat on someone's shelf for forty years in a dim room.

I am completely delirious. I can't believe that I actually have a copy of this book.

It's a really, really good thing that I'm not in the headspace to read about Teutonic religious practices at the moment, because otherwise it would be to Hel with the Wicca book, which, after all that calculating I did yesterday, would be quite disastrous. This, then, will be my reward for breaking, oh, say, 40K next week.

LATER:
Hmm. Now that the book has been freed from the restrictive cardboard wrapping, the hard covers are curving outward a bit(known as "foxing" in the book industry). If I were a serious collector, this would be a black mark against the value of the book. It doesn't affect the precious words inside, though, which are the reason why I bought the book; it's just not as excellent a copy as I thought it was earlier. (And it's A Good Thing I'm not a serious collector, because I spend enough money on books already, thank you very much. The mind stalls at guesstimating how much a collector's edition of this rare book would cost.)

Musings

I had a lovely lunch with a new friend yesterday, and I got wonderful advice from Rue about how to deal with the sciatic issues that have recently been rearing their nasty little heads (I'll share with you soon, Chantale, I promise!). I also commiserated with Roo (who is not the same person as Rue) about her heroic push to get a huge chunk done on her thesis in prep for a meeting with her advisor. "Well, sure you understand," she said, "you wrote a thesis." "No, actually, I'm thinking about the remaining 50,000 words I have to write before the seventh of March," I said. "But you're doing so well!" she exclaimed.

Yeah. Well. Given an overall eight-week window, and with a due count of 80,000 words, that works out to 10K per week. And although I will hit 30K in a couple of hours from now, that still means I'll only be a couple of thousand past my three-week quota. I have to put out ten thousand every single week from now on, or I'll miss the deadline.

I figured that out on the bus on the way into town yesterday. I was stunned, because yes, really, I had been doing so well. I was ahead for the first two weeks, and I haven't really slowed down on my output. So where did I go wrong?

Or, perhaps I should reword that sentence to read, "When did I revert to being a mere mortal?" A mere mortal who is now having a minor fit about handling what is admittedly an insanely challenging deadline?

I can't do anything other than just keep writing. And because I lose Wednesdays (which is now becoming a problem in my writing output) I have to write a minimum of 2.5K every other day of the week, including Fridays, which I was trying to avoid since I'm so tired by the end of the week.

I signed and sent my contracts for this project back yesterday. I can expect my advance in about six weeks, which is... well, what do you know, about a week before I hand the manuscript in. And I've been assured that my consulting contract will be renewed as well, most likely under similar terms as my series editorship contract, i.e. per book as opposed to a flat yearly fee, which is just fine by me. Now I have to get over my Canadian diffidence and actually submit a payment request when I've finished my part of each project, instead of waiting for the company to remember. They're busy, and I'm the independent contractor; it's really my responsibility.

Argh. And fnyeah.

The Irony of a Pauper's Grave

It's Mozart's birthday today. He'd be a ripe old 249.

And yes, this does mean that we're now into the countdown for his 250th year. Buckle up; there's going to be a lot of music with too many notes for the next six hundred days or so.

Day's End

Total word count, Wicca book: 28,856
Total words today: 2,722

It was really tough to actually get going today. HRH came home early and had computer issues, and it's always hard for me to focus when there's more people than just Ceri keeping me company here during a writing jam.

I finally put my foot down around three-twenty and ignored everyone. Over the next three hours I managed to wring out my daily goal of 2.5K and a couple of hundred more words to spare, so despite the muzzy head and lack of focus combined with distraction, I got things done.

While I was stretching at one point, Ceri asked me what chapter I was working on. Unlike the spellcraft book project, where I'd wake up knowing what subject I wanted to work on, this time around I find I'm really skipping from place to place in the book as my disjointed notes turn up ideas or as stray thoughts hit me. At the end of the day I can often look back and see that I focused on one area more than others (for example, I see now that today's themes revolved around archetypes, aspecting, and drawing down), but it's a very different method of writing. Every once in a while I have to try to organise it, which is what I do when I really can't face writing new stuff. When I organise I move existing material around to places where it makes more sense, or reword things, or reword chapter titles when it becomes obvious that my original chapter concept doesn't accurately reflect the information that I'm putting forth. I've already had to create a new chapter, because an existing chapter was becoming unwieldy and unfocused; and I can see now that I'll have to create another one for another subject which is taking over Chapter Six, too.

My next goal is breaking 30K, which will be done on Thursday, as tomorrow is office work at the store. And after that, the major goal will of course be breaking 40K, at which time the book will be officially half complete. I anticipate that milestone happening around Friday February 4, or Monday February 7.

Wow, I'm exhausted.

Eek!

Just found out that my Wicca book is being published in September 2005.

That's a six-month turnaround time from the moment the manuscript is handed in until it's shipped from the warehouse to line shelves in bookstores all over North America.

Vague

I'm feeling sore all over and muzzy-headed today, which is a direct result of being wide awake until about 1.30 AM. The lack of focus and brain power is going to have a not-so-good effect upon the execution of necessary writing projects this afternoon, I can already tell.

The contracts for this book arrived in the mail today. I've tried to read through them, but I'm so out of it that I can't concentrate on the legalese. It all seems really familiar, so I think it's identical to my previous contracts. I'll have to check. Although I feel unfocused, I've already managed to write an unofficial review of my consulting contract which is up for renewal in a week, and I think I made a lot of sense when I recommended the contract be renewed as is except for one clause regarding a minimum of media appearences to promote the imprint.

Ugh. I've been up for three hours, and I already need a nap. And if I nap, it will just get worse. This is not going to be a good day.

Also...

It's Virginia Woolf's birthday today as well. She was born this day in 1882.

Rest peacefully, Virginia.

And on January 25...

Happy Robbie Burns day, to one and all!

In honour of this august occasion, I give you one of my favourite Burns poems:

To A Mouse

(Thank you, Anne, for the link!)

Ta-da!

I have been a busy bee. I scanned a whack of old Hallowe'en photos tonight and added three new costumes to the See: Costumes page of the Owldaughter site. Can I just take a moment here to geek out over how nifty I think the new row of costume detail icons is, across the top of that page? I love them. I love how they focus on different parts of the various costumes, and how each is uniquely identifiable by those details. Okay, there's two of the Anna costume, and two of the Scarlet Witch outfit; but they were such cool and very different visuals of the same costume that I wanted to use them. Besides, it's my page and they're my costumes, so there. (Well, the back shot of the Anna corset isn't exactly identifiable, but come on, it's a corset shot, and I love corsets. Do I hear any complaints from my readers about the corset shot? No, I thought not.)

I also uploaded those two new/old articles a couple of days ago and forgot to post it here, apparently:

The Initiation Debate
Solitary Worship vs Coven Work: What's Right For You?

I really should go to sleep, but I'm not tired. I am, however, hungry. Perhaps I shall snack and read in bed until my eyes grow heavy.

Victory!

Ha -- passed 26K. I win.

And now, off to the doctor!

Lunch Break Amusement

Again with the no one being surprised:

You scored as Hermione Granger. You're one intelligent witch, but you have a hard time believing it and require constant reassurance. You are a very supportive friend who would do anything and everything to help her friends out. Hermione Granger 75% Albus Dumbledore 70% Severus Snape 65% Ron Weasley 60% Remus Lupin 60% Ginny Weasley 55% Draco Malfoy 55% Harry Potter 55% Sirius Black 50% Lord Voldemort 20% Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is...? created with QuizFarm.com

Egad, but that second sentence should be first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing I see before I go to sleep. I really ought to trust myself more.

Fluffy Bunnies and Stinking Badgers -- and Geckoes, Turtles, Sheep, and Coyotes, Oh My

Dualistic thinking saturates Western culture to such an extent that most westerners (especially Americans) have trouble thinking of any complex topic without slipping into Black/White, Evil/Good, Left/Right extremes. Unfortunately, reality is seldom that neat and clear. So let’s try looking at the Left-Right distinction using a value spectrum instead. [...]

Clearly the value spectrum gives us a more accurate image of how real people might place themselves within the Left-Right polarity, with the vast majority being some mixture of the two extremes.

So let’s try using value spectrums to help us make some Pagan fauna (or vice versa). Imagine four of them, measuring varying amounts of experience, honesty, trust, and knowledge that a person might have, intersecting in four dimensions.

Isaac Bonewits looks at different personality types within the Pagan world, using the Fluffy Bunny as a starting point. Fascinating, and more than a bit amusing. And the neat thing is, by creating a multi-axis spectrum, he can be a lot more accurate about animal metaphors. Insightful, and thought-provoking.

Me? Rather Owlish, with a dose of Turtle, and a streak of Fox. Where do you think you fit into the Pagan personality biosphere?

In Which She Discovers A Writing Quirk and Reschedules Accordingly

I have noticed something. On Fridays, I can't write at the computer. Hence, from now on, Fridays will be research days where I brainstorm with my notebook, and skim through texts to pique my memory and remind me of stuff I want to put into my own book. Sure, I got just under 1K written, but it was so lame as compared to what I had set as my quota that it wasn't worth much to my self-esteem. Working out that my daily average has been about 3.5K so far on this project did help, though. (That's 3.5K every day that I sit down to work, which doesn't include weekends or Wednesdays. I'm rather pleased.)

Today's goal is what Friday's goal originally was: to pass 26K, so that I will officially be 1/3 done this book. HRH thinks it would be quite amusing to have it complete before my contract arrives, which is unlikely, I think. It will certainly be finished before my advance gets here, the request for which isn't sent to the finance department until my signed contract is returned, and the processing of which usually takes 4 to 6 weeks. So yes, my advance will arrive right around the time I submit the finished manuscript, and then the request for my final payment will be submitted to the finance department, and a month or so later, ta-da, the second half of a house payment!

It also means another book finished, due for release this fall. This pleases me as well, indeed, it pleases me quite muchly. I'm still a bit stunned that three of my books will be published within a twelve-month period: spellcraft this May, Wicca this fall, and green witchcraft next spring. It's terribly unreal.

And then, of course, once the Wicca book has been submitted to them, I have to get back to the green witch book. You know, as much as I enjoy the writing part of my life, I'm looking forward to getting back to the editing part, which is what I'll be focusing on this fall and at least for a year; I'm going to be rather tired after this. There will be rewrites for the Wicca and green witch books through the summer, which is just fine with me; it's easier to rewrite than to put words on or in a blank white space. Two books, back to back, one a rush; I'll need the time off writing to recharge. And reading other people's stuff gives me ideas which I can squirrel away and think upon until such time as I feel I've got the basis for a proposal for a new book.

So, off to write! I have to leave at 2.30 for a doctor's appointment, so I've got four solid hours to pass 26K.

And, of course...

Happy birthday, Mum!

Attend!

Sony and producer Steve Bing are spending more than $2 million on a script for a film adaptation of the medieval epic poem Beowulf by Richard Avary and Neil Gaiman, for Robert Zemeckis to direct, Variety reported.

Well, well, well. Interesting team. (Avary, for those who don't know (and I didn't) may or may not be the same guy who co-wrote early Tarantino films, who is also credited as Roger Avary. Argh.)

And this, of course, has nothing to do with the Beowulf film directed by Sturla Gunnarsson which is being released later this year, and which looks like it might actually get it right. During filming, screenwriter Andrew Berzins (who is Canadian, incidentally) put up a couple of thoughts about adaptation here which are worth a look for people like me who fret about transferring novels to film, let alone anonymous Old English poems.

(Via SciFi Wire.)

UPDATE:

Neil Gaiman addresses the Variety report here, and acknowledges here that there is the other Beowulf film in production "which looks really cool" but when has another version ever mattered in the world of art? And he has a point.

PSA

Okay. Officially tired of winter now. The deep freeze has gone past affecting the physical body, and is now doing a number on my psyche. Can it be spring, please?

-- And There

Total word count, Wicca book: 24,136
Total words today: 4,018

Five minutes ago, I was a scant 49 words shy of accomplishing 4K today. For my own peace of mind, I had to do something about that. I ended up adding three more books that had been sitting on my desk to my bibliography. You know, part of the problem with knowing so damn much about a topic is remembering to note down all the books that you got your original information from, lo these many years ago, which is now a part of you because you successfully internalised it.

Tomorrow, if I can hit a total of 26K (and as that's just under 2K I know I'll do it), then I will be just about 1/3 done.

Maybe the metapower's not wearing off.

Now I can go fiddle with posting those new articles, tra la la. And reward myself with a wedge of Terry's Chocolate Orange.

(And how appropriate -- The Tragically Hip's Little Bones just came up on my random playlist. Happy hour is here, indeed.)

Oh, For --

I have to write 49 more words. No, seriously. Watch.

Serendipity

Huh. Well, how about that.

In searching online for a couple of definitions, I found two web articles on initiation and solo vs group worship that I'd written two years ago, articles that for some reason I didn't have on file.

I've snagged them and somewhat formatted them; I'll upload them in a few days. I have to update other indices and tables of contents elsewhere to include them, which is what's going to take time.

Surprising Exactly No One

You scored as Verbal/Linguistic. You have highly developed auditory skills, enjoy reading and writing and telling stories, and are good at getting your point across. You learn best by saying and hearing words. People like you include poets, authors, speakers, attorneys, politicians, lecturers and teachers. Verbal/Linguistic 93% Musical/Rhythmic 64% Intrapersonal 61% Visual/Spatial 57% Interpersonal 57% Bodily/Kinesthetic 29% Logical/Mathematical 21% The Rogers Indicator of Multiple Intelligences created with QuizFarm.com

Found via Firewillow, who is cool and whom I miss seeing.

Baby Stuff

The sciatica-like pain is really the only bad thing I've encountered so far. I 've always had back problems, so I was steeling myself for my pregnancy to affect it in some way -- but sciatica? At ten weeks? It's so unfair! And yeah, it does hurt like hell; like someone jamming a white-hot pencil into your back just under your kidney, which then seizes up the lower back on that side and sends pain down the leg. Gods, when it hits I can't even take a step. Good thing HRH doesn't mind waiting on me when I need a drink or a snack. :) It's the only really bad thing so far, though, so if this is as bad as it will get (knock on wood) then I'm grateful.

Other than that, I feel a bit bloated at times; nothing bad, just like week-before-my-period sort of thing. And my chest is tender and sensitive. The headaches have really eased off, thank goodness. I just took a GP-approved Tylenol when I needed it, and I was fine. Now I only get about one mild one per week. It would seem that I'm remarkably lucky in the lack of nasty pregnancy-associated ickiness.

Still eating all the time. My current obsession is grape tomatoes. Also cheese and crackers. Mmm...

Chantale had the optional first ultrasound done! As much as HRH and I would love to do this too, it's not covered by Medicare, and we just can't afford it. We'll have to wait until the regular first ultrasound, which for me doesn't happen until March 21, argh!

Have I mentioned yet that I have gained absolutely no weight?

Sweet Irony

So HRH comes home yesterday, and even before he has taken off his winter coat, his scarf, and his fedora, comes into my office and says, "I love school."

These words make me feel all warm inside. But there's more.

"Know what our final project is?" he says with a grin, his wind-reddened cheeks dimpling as he unwinds the scarf.

"What?" I ask, because I know he wants me to.

"We have to design a spaceship, three characters, and an environment for it," he says triumphantly. "I love my life."

Yes, dear readers; after successfully modelling a 747 in day two and three of this course, he's already rendering his original design of the Raven's Gold into 3D. And there are at least half a dozen people out there who know exactly which three characters he's designing to go with it: Angus, Saiyedra, and Shawn.

I rather like his life, too.

I'm thrilled that this is so much fun for him, as opposed to the murky lots-of-work I-don't-know-anything environment he was fearing. His depth of animation experience and art training mean that he knows how objects are put together, how they move, how they're attached, how gravity acts on them, and how perspective affects them. Knowing all that means he's three-quarters of the way there; now he just needs to continue familiarising himself with this "new pencil," which continues to be as inuitive as it was on the first day. And he needs to keep having fun; that's rather important. I wish more people thought of school as fun, and looked forward to it as he does.

Gratuitous Candy Review

Cadbury Dairy Milk Galaxy bars (UK only, Gentle Readers) beat Caramilk bars hands down.

Not Knowing, But Knowing

A day or two ago, I was speaking with Tal about how wonderful it is that an author can create a world in which there are undercurrents and themes that s/he doesn't consciously realise are important until much, much later. (We were discussing J.K. Rowling at the time, I believe, followed closely by Joss Whedon.) The wonder of it is that these undercurrents surface further on as vital or in a way which makes the reader go, "Ah," and the author doesn't always do it intentionally; it's an organic sort of thing that arises on its own. This is one of the reasons why readers can create a huge intricate web of connections, to many of which the author admits, "I hadn't planned it that way, but it does work."

Well, this morning I was reading Sarah Monette's LJ, and I came across this entry dated January 9 2005, which illustrates what we were talking about rather well.

this is how it happens

So, back when I was doing the slash and burn through Mélusine to lose 15k, my editor suggested that there was a particular scene near the end of the book that didn't seem to be doing much, and maybe it could go? And I said, No, it has to stay in (and where it is, since her other suggestion was to move it into Kekropia--where, honestly, it would not have fit). It's important.

But I didn't know why.

Last night, I figured it out.

I finished reading through the nine extant chapters of Kekropia yesterday afternoon, and last night was sitting with notebook and Phileas, trying to figure out how to start Chapter 10, which I do by writing down the things that need to happen, and then trying different ways of combining them to make them happen plausibly. And I wrote, What they need is to figure out the application of [thematic thingamabob] to and my brain finished the sentence, the current situation, and ka-pow! The circuit closed, the lights came on, and I knew why I had had to leave the scene in Mélusine in and why it was important, and what it was for. Now, mind you, the thing it's for is something I didn't know about when I was writing Mélusine or when I was editing Mélusine, or in fact until I'd started writing Chapter 9 of Kekropia. But this scene that I wrote without knowing why I needed it solves three or four different problems at once, including one that actually belongs to the third book. And it ties a whole bunch of thematic things together in a way that makes it look like I knew what I was doing all the time.

I am torn between amazed delight at my own cleverness and the sort of primitive fear that leads to volcano worship and cargo cults.

It is absolutely fascinating and remarkable that the human brain can do this, that a creator can create so completely and be so true to that creation that internal consistencies equalise on their own, surprising even the author him/herself as s/he writes. (And sure, there are always things that look like inconsistencies, but really, have you noticed Real Life being particularly consistent? No, me neither.)

Of course, I'm writing non-fic these days, so I don't get those glorious light-bulb-angelic-choir moments. Alas. Although hey, three books being published within one twelve-month period goes a long way towards soothing that particular regret.

25% Finished

Total word count, Wicca book: 20,118
Total words today: 3,055

If I started earlier instead of noodling about here and there until midday I'd finish earlier. Then I wouldn't be so tired and slow by four o'clock, when I'd prefer to be wrapping up my daily quota instead of still grinding out the last 1.5K.

But damn; I'm a quarter of the way through this book already, and that's only after six days of writing.

There's no way I can keep this up. I'm certain of that. The luck must eventually wear off. So must the metapower, which means I'd have to expose myself to printing press radiation to initialise it again, and what a colossally bad idea that would be at this point. Anyone got a genetically enhanced quill I can stab myself with instead?

"It's best make art and not to worry"

A question sent to Neil Gaiman:

I got a question for you, how do you become friends with what you've written? Perfectionism is hard to overcome, well for me anyway, and I always see the flaws, the clumsyness and that sort of thing. Even when people who I trust in having an as objective opinion as possible say that they like it I don't trust them. Not because I lack self-confidence, there are things I've written that I genuinly love, it's just...When you see the flaws in something it's hard to love it, if it's your own work. I'm fine with it in other peoples work. So, am I making sense? Do you have this problem? And is there anything I can do to make it go away?

And Neil replies:

Well, it's hard to be a fan of your own work (I'm not a fan of my writing). You'll always see how far it was from what you had in mind when you sat down to write. (The only thing that seems to fix that is time. But time still won't make you a fan of what you've written, and when it does -- when you find yourself laughing at a joke you've forgotten that you wrote a long time ago -- it normally just makes you worry that you used to have it but you probably don't any more.)

If people you trust say they like it, they probably like it, but that doesn't make you respect them any the more or like the story. (It's one reason that editors buying stories is so important for beginning writers. Anyone can say they like it, but sending a cheque and then printing the story -- that's love.)

Also, once it's written, the writer is just one more person with an opinion about the work. It's certainly an informed opinion, but that doesn't make your opinion more right than anyone else's, I'm afraid, whether they like it or they don't.

It's best make art and not to worry. I'll take the satisfaction of having built something that did what I hoped it would do over being in love with my own voice any day. It's safer. Make good art that says sort of what you set out to say and then, when it's good enough for jazz, go on to the next thing.

Food for thought.

(Found here.)

Muses

I love that my husband looks forward to going to school every day. I love that on the first day of his Maya class, he merged with the intuitive interface of his "new pencil," as he calls it, and proceeded to build a fantastic environment just by messing around.

And, for our very own Tough Love Muse:

Sinfest: 12 January, 2005

Satisfaction

Total word count, Wicca book: 17,063
Total words today: 3,053

That's the kind of progress I prefer to see.

The Mysterious Case of the Vanishing Video

Allow me to take this opportunity to laud the subconscious skill of Blade, geek extraordinaire.

I lost video on my machine when a small item fell off my desk and gently thwacked the casing of my computer. I rebooted thrice; I reseated cables; I called Blade when nothing worked, but before attempting to reseat the video card. "I'll call you right back," he said.

And lo, when I hung up and rebooted yet again just to do something constructive while I waited for the phone to ring, there before me I had video once again.

"I don't know what you did, but thank you," I said when he called back moments later. "It's working again."

"Er," he said. "Okay."

Sometimes, it's just a case of putting the fear of Geek into your machine.

Parallel and Metaphor

Okay, this just fascinates me:

Knight2King Theory: Weasley is Our King

Pern's Demise

We trekked out yesterday in an effort to shake off my lingering lassitude of the weekend's not-well-ness. Naturally, we went to the bookstore. (Actually, I gave HRH the choice of going there or to the mall where there is an EB Games, and he chose Indigo. That was probably what completely cured me. He wanted to go to Indigo to get the next book in the Cornwell Arthurian series he's reading. I love him.)

I came home with four or five books, as I'd come to the end of books I'd bought with my gift-certificate, and the first one I decided to read when we got home was Dragon's Kin by Anne and Todd McCaffrey.

This book has ensured that I will never again buy a Pern novel unless it is Anne's name, and only Anne's name, on the cover. (And even then, I'll think twice, thanks to the weakness of the last few books and the lousy editorial decision she made in allowing her son to write.) Pern is now dead to me.

Having read an interview with the two authors, I know how this was written. They discussed the storyline, Todd wrote it, Anne read through it, and off to the publisher it went. And it's awful. The narrative wanders all over the place; the characterization is weak; the protagonists pop in and out irregularly; and they and the tone are more suited to a YA novel. (Not usually a slur in my POV, but in this case, when the novel was evidently written and marketed for adults, not a high recommendation, either.)

It's just a shallow book. Not much happens. I read it in two hours. There was nothing meaty in it, nothing interesting happening to the characters which made me want to spend time with them. They all told each other how they were feeling, or they talked to each other about how someone else felt, or the narrator told us how they felt instead of showing us.

Grr.

So Pern is dead to me. Okay, the last five or so novels have been iffy; for example, I wanted to like The Masterharper of Pern more than I did, because Robinton is one of my favourite characters, but it was a rehash from his POV of all sorts of information we'd received over the years through other novels. All the Skies of Pern felt flat, somehow, as if it was a book she felt obliged to write. The series gradually grew weaker over time, but I'm still nostalgic about it, as it was the first SF series I ever read. I thought that with Todd writing it, there may have been some sort of revitalisation (although any new author attempting to revive someone else's universe is immediately suspect in my mind). But, alas, it has had just the opposite effect; this book is the nail which has sealed the coffin of Pern closed.

Health Bulletin

Just so everyone knows -- I'm not ignoring you. I've been in bed sick for the past two and a half days. Things started to go downhill Friday afternoon and bottomed out by suppertime. Today's the first day I'm officially out of bed and dressed and attempting to be normal again. No idea how successful I'll be, but that's the general plan, anyway.

New Friend!

Hurrah! Chantale (AKA Bride of SavageKnight, for all you YUL NaNos)is pregnant too, and only two weeks ahead of me! I have someone to talk to who's going through it too! I love all my friends who are already mothers, but they're immersed in a different experience with their toddlers or infants, and the perspective is at least a year off. It's good to have a support system of people going through the same thing at roughly the same time, even if it's just to say, "No, you're not insane!" or to share info.

I've mainly been in bed for the past two days; I just lost all the energy I'd started building up again after the holidays, and I walked for about an hour on Friday afternoon and encountered my first ever experience with sciatica. My gods, it hurt so badly I thought I was going to cry by the time I got home. It hurt so much that I couldn't bend over to untie my boots; HRH had to do it for me. I was so embarrassed. Anyway, it hurt so badly I couldn't even stand up for about four hours, so I dozed and read in bed. Then by the time I woke up on Saturday I was back to having an evil perpetual headache, and everything tasted horrible, so I stayed in bed again. In the past two and a half months I've been in bed maybe a total of two days, so I should consider myself lucky (particularly since that's about normal for me, pregnant or not!). When it happens I feel guilty for feeling so not-with-it that all I can manage to do is sleep, but when I say somethign like that HRH usually sits next to me and points out that all my energy is currenlty going to growing a baby within the first crucial thirteen weeks, and to cut myself some slack. I thank all the gods that it's not taking over my life, and I should be glad for that! As for the constant low-grade headaches which were worrying me, my GP doesn't seem to think it's a problem. Sure enough, now they're coming and going, and they're less constant.

I hit ten weeks on Friday! Because I haven't had an official appointment yet, I have no confirmed due date, but technically it should be around Aug 5-8. Both my mother and I have a feeling I'll be early, though, so we're planning for the end of July, just to be safe. I haven't gained any weight at all, and I've been eating all the time -- at least, until the middle of last week when my energy started decreasing and everything started tasting bad. My waistbands started to get snug almost right away, but that's not so bad because my pants fit everywhere else, and they haven't become uncomfortable; I just fill them better. The main problem has been my bras! I went up a cup size in the first month alone, and had to buy new ones. I've never been chesty to begin with, so this has been pretty much the only noticeable change so far, and only a couple of really close guy friends have noticed.

No cravings for me yet, but I do sort of get on a kick with certain foods like carrots or Swiss cheese crackers: I'll eat them for a couple of days then ignore them. I went on an olive kick the first few weeks I knew I was pregnant, the really big oversize ones from President's Choice - mmm. Tried to go back to regular sized ones after that and they were just awful!

I've been reading tons of books too - I really like The Pregnancy Bible by Joanne Stone; it has excellent text, and wonderful pictures, and covers all sorts of things. I have Your Pregnancy Week by Week too (which HRH likes because it shows real-size sketches of baby!) and naturally, What to Expect When You're Expecting, which is actually the least helpful one I've read so far. I also have a Canadian book called The Mother of All Pregnancy Books which talks about pregnancy in Canada, which is a nice switch from American stuff.

A Plea

Gods, please, just let me break 14K before I have to leave in half an hour...

Update at 13.40:

Total word count, Wicca book: 14,010
Total words today: 458

Oh, ugh; I thought I'd managed much more than that. At least I hit 14K.

Must scurry; have an appointment in twenty minutes! Ack!

Random

I upgraded to the newly available version 10 of Windows Media Player yesterday (I was operating with version 8), and apart from not liking the basic skin (which seems to be the only one that operates in the full screen mode), I've discovered that like a wind-up toy, it tends to get stuck in a corner. In the past half-hour, this has been its so-called random playlist:

Farscape: Fields of Joy (twice)
Farscape: Delvian Dreams (twice)
Series of Unfortunate Events: An Unpleasant Experience Involving a Train (twice)
Series of Unfortunate Events: Drive Away (end title) (twice)

and two John Williams tracks. Overall, it seems inordinately fond of A Series of Unfortunate Events, which makes me wonder if I ought to back up my hard drives again, just in case...

Ahem

HRH is currently carrying a 97% average. Woo-hoo!

Cross your fingers and have confidence in his stupendous performance on this afternoon's upcoming exam, worth 40% of this class's final mark.

I Slept Ten Hours, Honest I Did

After having so much energy for the past few weeks, I'm wiped out again. It's rather frustrating, because I'm on a tight deadline, and my productivity has been cut by about half. And yet all I want to do is doze on the sofa with a cat or three. I don't even want to read.

This can stop any time, thanks. I don't care how normal it is.

That's Me In the Corner, Losing my Divinity

"I learned a whole bunch of HTML today in class, and made a basic web page," HRH told me last night.

"Hey, that's great!" I said.

"Yeah, but all this new knowledge makes you look a lot less godlike."

Alas

I was hoping to reach a total of 15K today. I'll be lucky if I pass 13K before I have to leave for my emergency shift.

* headdesk *

Update at 15.50:

Total word count, Wicca book: 13,552
Total words today: 1,529

Ha! Better than I expected, really. Half again as better, in fact.

Off I go to change and brush my teeth and generally prepare for departure.

Rescheduled

Going in to work at the store with Roo later this afternoon due to colleague health failure. I knew I should have started writing earlier.

Alas, this also means I can't go to the movie premiere I was to go to tonight, as I'll be working till nine. Oh well.

Working Now, Honest

I think it extremely unfortunate when a book has been translated by someone with the last name of Butcher.

(Am so working. Word count now stands at 12,058, which is a clear 35 words more than what I had at last count.)

Hmm

I wonder why I am avoiding work when it is going so well.

Virginia Woolf, by Hermione Lee

I would like to take this opportunity to announce that I have finally finished reading Hermione Lee's biography of Virginia Woolf, which I began about a year and a half ago. I have just moved it, with due ceremony, to my Recently Read list.

It's a long and dense book, and reading it was heavy going. Inspiring, though, particularly to a writer of any kind, because it covers so much of her work process and fears and reactions to major world events. This book sat by my bedside for eighteen months. Yesterday morning, in bed with my tea, I reached the end, and I felt a little sad because it was over.

A book like this is not something you race through. Virginia Woolf is a complex and puzzling character, and her biography reflects that. Besides, it's like reading a book about the Titanic: you know how it ends. She puts a rock in her pocket and drowns herself for fear that if she has another mental breakdown, she will not recover. It's the daily life, the discussions, the letters, the process of planning and executing her books and reviews that you read something like this to discover. You read it for an insight into the writer's psyche, their motivations, and to explore how their actions relate to the rest of the intellectual culture of the time.

I preferred this biography to the Quentin Bell one. It felt more objective, and explored further. It serves as a nice complement to A Writer's Diary, the Leonard Woolf-chosen extracts from Virginia's journals on the subject of writing.

Eighteen months of my life were spent reading this book off and on again. I'm not sure what I'll turn to next to replace it.

Bullet Dodged With Grace and Humour

We got new music last night, so no one knows how much I didn't practice the Schubert and the Rossini. I dodged that bullet rather nicely, I think.

Our principal's stand partner didn't show up (like half the orchestra, due to the weather), so I was invited up front. (Can I just say, three and a half seasons to move up from the back of eight celli to second chair? Third chair regularly? Go me.) Let's see: new music; everyone will be sight reading. Okay, sure; I'll agree to sit as second chair, because I won't embarrass myself as much as I otherwise could. And we had a lot of fun with it, and I always pick up neat little tips and tricks from the principal.

First, we got Mozart's ballet music to Les Petits Riens, and let me tell you, by the time we got to the tenth bit, we were rolling our eyes and pleading to switch to something else. There are something like fourteen little themes total after the mini overture. Some are fun. Some are pretty sparkly little things. Some are dead dull. Most are just what the name suggests -- little bits of nothing.

"We'll, um, pick and choose a selection of these to perform," suggests Douglas. We agree, and move on to the Pas de Six from William Tell. Moments into it I'm wishing we'd stayed with the nice and fluffy Mozart. It's a classic killer Rossini piece, which means measured repetitive bits interspersed with stupid fast passages. I played the latter well enough slowly, but when we accelerated the tempo I lost it because I kept trying to change my bowing between the linked triplets instead of doing two sets in one bow stroke as the score indicated. The rest is fine. It's just those twenty-five bars of insanity, repeated again ten bars later, which trips me up. This is one of the things that frustates me about sight-reading; I can either play the notes, or do the correct bowing. If I try to do both, nothing works. (Particularly when the score is handwritten. Handwritten Rossini; what a nightmare to sight-read.)

Lastly, we played a version of the Vivaldi Cello Sonata no. 5 in E minor arranged for solo cello and orchestral accompaniment. It's a beautiful piece, and our principal is the soloist; we're terribly proud of her. Douglas came over before we began and said, "Do you want to focus on the accompaniment, or do you want to play the solo part?" "Oh, sure," our principal said, all relaxed, "I'll do the solo part, I'm ready for it." "No," I said, terribly amused, "he's actually asking if you think the rest of the section can play the cello accompaniment without you." And I could see him sort of wringing his hands, wanting to say no, but the answer was yes, so I just couldn't help laughing. "Oh, they'll be fine," the principal said breezily. "Why don't we all play it once," I said, "and then you can do the solo on the repeat?" Douglas looked relieved, the principal was happy with it, and we all got a chance to run through it without looking like complete idiots.

Of course, the cello line comes in on an odd off-beat in the first full bar, and if you don't count completely precisely, you're off and it's a wreck, which happened to the entire section in the first movement on the repeat when the solo line started; but the other movements were fine, and I was proud of some bits that I played well, and I wasn't terrible in the rest of it. I'm going to practice this one until I have it really, really nailed, because if our principal is going to be busy with the solo part, I want the celli to sound solid. We lean on her a lot, so without her I want to be as confident and clear as possible. (Maybe people will lean on me; who knows.)

The problem with playing the orchestral accompaniment to a cello piece is that the entire cello section knows the solo part. We're cellists, after all. We gravitate to the cello line, particularly when it's big and out there and written to be noticeable as the solo line. And the original version of this piece is a sonata, which means there's just a keyboard continuo to support the solo line; and it's kind of hard to construct an individual bass line in your head when you're listening to the recording of all this lovely cello sound rolling along above the harpsichord. And every single one of us has likely played one of the solo movements in this piece at some point or another, and the fact that we've worked on it makes it even harder to focus on the accompaniment. (In fact, this is the piece I was working on when I finally left the music school which wasn't accomodating the fact that I was an adult with an adult's schedule. The first movement was a pain then, too. I preferred the other three.)

It's a great cross-section of music, especially with the Schubert and the Rossini overture we've already been given. It's going to be fun this winter.

Schubert Who?

Tonight is my triumphant return to chamber orchestra, after a one-month break.

I wonder if everyone will suck as much as I will, seeing as how I picked up the cello once and only once over the holiday. And even then I played Howard Shore stuff, not Schubert or Rossini, so unless I received a miraculous upgrade in my sleep I will be worse than I was at the beginning of December.

This is not encouraging. The fact that our next concert is at the beginning of April is, however, vaguely reassuring.

Like A Rocking Thing, Part Two

Total word count, Wicca book: 12,023
Total words today: 3,635

And I am now completely wiped out. I forgot that I have to do a final read of the evaluation form I started drawing up a couple of months ago for CMS, and that meeting begins at 7. I so need a nap, just half an hour...

At least I don't need dinner, because I am stuffed from my delicious lunch. That saves time.

Friends Like This

Ceri just called from the metro station, on her way over for the writing jam this afternoon.

"I'm going to stop by the deli to pick up lunch," she said. "Do you want anything?"

Bless her. I already had two bowls of soup, but that was an hour and a half ago, and I'm hungry again. A smoked meat sandwich, fries, and coleslaw will be here in mere minutes.

It's good to have friends like this.

(And for some reason, Cricket Mouse keeps sticking her furry head into my empty glass to lick the sides clean of the vegetable juice residue. Good for amusement, but vaguely disquieting. Odd little cat.)

Like A Rocking Thing, As The Lady Says

Total word count, Wicca book: 10,572
Total words today so far: 2,184

Just heard an extract from the House of Flying Daggers film score on the radio. Fascinating indeed. I'll be adding it to my list of CDs to pick up next time I'm out music shopping, along with the score to A Series of Unfortunate Events and the Goldberg Variations as recorded by Les Violons du Roy.

Past, Meet Future

There's something so cool about a mouse-controlled Etch-a-Sketch. It's a bit of a simultaneous step forwards (anything's better than the knobs) and backwards (we now have tablet PCs), and it's absolutely fascinating.

Boing Boing has also published the link to the build notes so that you too can hack your childhood toy.

Officially Cooled Out!

Take a look at this:

Take an In-Depth Journey into the Art of Spellcraft

What a fabulous way to end the day.

Not a Bad Start After All

I'm calmer now.

Total word count, Wicca book: 8,388

Yes, I'm rather pleased. And as usual, that's just point form notes, all set to be expanded. This is an excellent beginning.

I haven't been that angry in a while. After I threw the useless CDs that were crashing my system, I hurled my mouse against the wall in a blind rage (not that it's done anything to me, I was just really, really frustrated; and it almost broke my stylus, which was in the way), I decided that I needed some fresh air. We went out, enjoyed the sudden snow squall that kicked up, bought more CDs which work bee-you-ti-ful-ly, and HRH now has two shiny portfolio CDs to take into the nice headhunter tomorrow. We also stopped by to see Elim, whom we haven't seen in a while. We had a pleasant chat, and penciled in a workshop he's giving privately at the end of the month. I like it when other people teach workshops. I get tired of being the teacher.

Plus I ate an A&W cheeseburger for dinner, which made me feel dreadfully wicked for abandoning the very healthy nutrition trend I've been riding for a couple of months, but which made me very happy. A decent exchange on a day like today, I think.

So Much For Clearing Headspace

Not a single gods-damned CD-RW in this house is being recognised by the CD burner.

The computer has crashed six times today, on top of the repeated meltdowns it had last night while we scanned the rest of HRH's artwork to create a portfolio CD to get to that headhunter, which was supposed to happen today, but obviously did not, nor will it happen tomorrow, either. My D drive vanished periodically for no apparent reason (and no, it's not a loose connection; it's the second half of a partitioned drive) causing minor heart failure, as it's the drive with all my document files on it. It got backed up today, in two different places. That's the only thing that got accomplished.

It has not been a good day. Very not. Please do not tender sympathy; I am simmering and likely to take off your head.

The second book could have been launched on a better day, it really could have.

Adrift

I called Lasalle for my appointments today. I spent an hour and a half on the phone, being switched back and forth and on hold. Argh.

My first OB/GYN appointment: March 1. My ultrasound: March 21.

I'm freaked out. They don't even want to see me until I'm 4 months. Sure, nothing's going wrong as far as I know -- but I'm not the expert, and what if it is going wrong and I can't tell? I'm going to need to touch base with a medical professional before that or I'll go insane. All the books talk about seeing your natal doctor at 8 weeks.

So I made an appointment with my own GP for late January in order to check blood pressure etc and for my own peace of mind. She at least has a baseline of readings taken when I saw her in mid-December because my test was positive.

Hello, Goodbye (For Now)

I got the contract for the Wicca book.

Yes, it's due in two months; another slightly mad deadline. I've done it before, I can do it again, especially since as in the case of the spellcraft book, this book will be based on a lot of existing teaching material that I've developed over the years. Why take on another book when I'm already working on one? Because (a) they need someone competent and efficient to do it now; and (b) the full payment for this book will be the down payment on a house of some kind when we buy one in late spring. There's a major rush on this because it's being released this fall, which means the turnaround time for editing and designing is going to be insanely tight. There's a reason manuscripts are usually submitted a year ahead of their projected release date.

So my poor little green witch book is being closed gently and set aside for the time being. My editor has assured me that a new deadline for it is no problem at all; I've asked for two months, to cover the time spent writing the Wicca book, which puts the new deadline at June 1. It's a spring 2006 title, so we have a bit of room to move around.

And just because I've done it before, and am doing it again, this does not mean that I am looking to do it yet a third time in order to bag a hat trick.

Must clear headspace, and pull up the proposal file; then start looking up all the teaching notes I have on these topics and paste them into a new document. I wonder how much I'll have done in a week simply by doing that.

Enough

The green witch book update

Total word count: 14,388
Total words today: 1,005

Like trying to make bread rise with yeast that didn't foam at all, or meringues when it's too humid. Seriously. The leavening's just not there today.

Me, Referenced by Me

I have finally realised that I have to list my own book as a reference in this new bibliography, since I've just finished discussing the principle of sympathetic magic and checking my spellcraft manuscript to see what I said on the subject before.

I wasn't going to include it on the list for no reason; I always roll my eyes when authors include every single book they've ever written in the list of works consulted, even when the topics have nothing to do with the book in question. But now it seems that I have to, because I've referenced it.

How very awkward this feels.

The Magical Art of Recipe-Bending

We're going over to a friend's place for dinner tomorrow, and I volunteered to bring dessert. Anne recently directed my attention to a series of recipes for Bundt cakes, and a recipe for a lemon-poppyseed cake caught my eye. So I searched out my tube pan. There was a moment of panic where I wondered if it had finally been tossed during the last move, since I hadn't used it in, well, five or six years, but huzzah, we found it!

I don't have poppyseeds at the moment, so I'm not going to put those in; besides, I don't know if there's a nut/seed allergy among the diners, therefore it's better to be safe. And although I'm sure the included recipe for the tart lemon glaze would be good, I want to put a chocolate glaze with only a touch of lemon on it, because chocolate and lemon is such a subtle and delicious combination.

So it would seem that I'm not making a lemon-poppyseed cake at all, but a lemon cake with chocolate glaze.

Writing progresses at a snail's pace. I'm currently expanding the first chapter from the original list of point form notes. It's not expanding as much as I'd like.

Unfair?

It seems so unfair that so much of the important growth and development of a baby - nervous system, key organs, etc -- happens within the first eight weeks or so, often when you don't yet know that you're pregnant, so that you're not taking optimal care of either of you.

Yes, I had sushi, and wine, and Advil, and antihistamines, and skipped breakfast before I knew I was pregnant, and no, I don't think our child will be any worse off for any of it. It just seems like Nature's trying to slip something in when you're not watching for it. It would seem to make more sense for the really sensitive, crucial stuff to happen after eight weeks, once you know what's happening, so you can avoid all the dangerous things. I understand why the sensitive stuff develops early on, of course: it's all the stuff that needs the entire forty weeks to develop and mature, as they're the most sophisticated systems in the body.

Still. It just seems awkward, somehow.

Green Witch Update

Total word count: 13,383
Total words today: 2,383

And now I'm making dinner, a lovely pot roast with thyme and oregano. Mmm.

HRH's interview went very well, thank you -- he's being recommended for the position. What position is that, exactly? Well, specifics couldn't be given to him, of course, but it's for a gaming company here in Montreal, and it involves supervising the pre-production design team and developing the locations for the game, which will then be handed to the computer artists to render.

"Oh, heck," said HRH, "I can do that."

"This is extremely evident from your portfolio," said the cooled-out interviewer at the headhunter agency.

Apparently HRH surprised and impressed them by walking in with a physical portfolio. "But I saw your stuff online," said the interviewer. "Not half of it," said HRH, and proceeded to prove how very talented he is.

Keep those fingers crossed.

Okay, Maybe There Is Bad News

If they end up giving little superhero me that second book which is now rush-rush due to the first author's lack of success (apparently both she and her agent took the non-acceptance thing quite well), it will be due March 7, I have just discovered.

Which bumps my poor little green witch book away, away down the line. Alas.

Although, even if I start work on the green witch book again on March 14, and stick to the laughable worst-case-scenario 1K a day thing, that means it's finished mid-May instead. The current deadline is April 1. The first book we worked on in this series was four months late and still made it through the process. This would only be six weeks late, according to the original schedule.

Not ideal, of course. But if we want this done right, etceteras.

I'll go pick up the pace now.

Get Thee Behind Me, Amazon!

I just hit Amazon.com to research the description for a book, and right below the title bar, their home page had pulled up three of the books on my wish list, with the absolutely cruel heading of "You Know You Want It."

Elizabeth Hand's Mortal Love! The Enchanted Chocolate Pot by Caroline Stevermer and Pat Wrede! This is inhuman!

There Is No Bad News About This

Current word count: 12,115
Today's word count so far: 1,115

Worst-case scenario: If I write on weekdays, and only manage a thousand words per day, I will be done at the beginning of March. Doing a thousand words a day is easy. Anything over that (which is, of course, the idea; in fact, twice that is the goal) brings my finish date that much closer. I anticipate being done in mid-February.

Plus, if I only manage the lousy 1K a day, then I still have a month to revise.

Now I'm excited.

Witches Weekly

I have been terribly remiss of late with the Witches Weekly questions. They've been a bit sporadic (as in, not precisely weekly), and when they do go up, sometimes they don't inspire me; but in most cases I have other things which have to get done first, and then I just forget. (Brain like a sieve these days, I tell you. All I can remember is that I have a book due in three months.)

1. Do you have any Winter Solstice traditions?

Nothing set in stone. Some years we do the night-long vigil; other years we have a good meal, light a candle, and then sit and think about the concept of light returning. I like to spend Winter Solstice alone, as I prefer to celebrate Samhain alone; they're both very introspective times.

2. How do you feel about the more secular form of the holiday, with presents and Santa Claus?

I think it's perfectly natural. As Anne pointed out recently, it's all about celebrating the fact that woo-hoo, we're still alive during the dark and cold! Excess at any time is something I discourage, so to me, those who go overboard with the rampant commercialism at this time of year just don't get it. It's not about the gifts; it's about sharing and making others happy. Touch them deeply; don't inundate them with stuff. Watching someone open a simple gift I have presented to them and seeing their joy is worth more to me than buying them something large and expensive. It's about doing it right, not doing it big.

3. What is one thing that is etched into your memory about this recent holiday season?

Sharing quality time with immediate family and friends, and sharing plans for the future. That, to me, is what the holiday season is all about. We celebrate the fact that we are alive, and together, and we plan for tomorrow as the light continues to grow in strength and power.

Nebula Slate Announced

The preliminary slate for the 2004 Nebula Awards is out, and it includes Cory Doctorow's Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom for best novel, and Brad Bird's script for The Incredibles. Sadly, as in recent years and other awards lists, I've not read an embarrassing number of the works nominated. Once upon a time there was a year when I was thrilled to discover that I had read four out of the five finalists for the Nebulas, Hugos, and Locus Awards; I think it was the second or third year I worked at the F/SF store. It was a good year for books, with titles released by all my favourite authors and interesting stuff written by authors I wasn't as familiar with at the time. Over the years, though, I've been reading less F/SF and more literature, mysteries, and general fiction, as well as non-fiction. And, apparently, not reading as many award-worthy books. Fnyeah. I enjoyed them; that's what counts. An award does not a good book make.

A Bit Better

As I actually don't have a gynaecologist (my GP has always done my internal work and necessary exams), my GP has now given me a list of ob/gyns at Lasalle. HRH went out and picked up some info etc on the maternal unit there; it looks really good, and I've only heard positive things about them. I'm going to call them for an appointment next week to get things rolling. I've also been put on the waiting list for the CLSC birthing centre; since I'm due in early August, and it's my first, the midwife on duty thinks it will be more likely I'll deliver right at the end of July, and there aren't as many deliveries scheduled for that time so we just might end up there after all. The CLSC maison naissance and Lasalle do a lot of work together, apparently, so transferring would be no problem at all.

So. Feeling better and less stressed.

And So It Begins

I'm in the middle of trying to figure out natal stuff; this morning I was informed that the CLSC birthing centre, our first choice for delivery location, isn't taking new people because they're too full (which they said nothing about to my GP whens he called them before Christmas asking what info I'd need to get to them). So I have to go to a hospital instead, and I hate hospitals. The hospital websites are useless; I can't find any information, and I need to find an ob/gyn and schedule an ultrasound in the next two weeks. I've had a headache every day, and I'm just so frustrated I don't know what to do any more.

Grr.

More Useless Information Than You Can Shake A Stick At

Of course you've always wanted to know what your name is in Quenya.

Mine's Íverin (although the way I spell it is slightly different, this is what it would default to). HRH's is Veurotur. (You did know that his name means "mighty ruler," right? Insert roll of eyes here.)

Quenya Lapseparma Name Book: A Brief History of Nonsense

(Thanks, Peg!)

And Because I Simply Must Say It...

Happy Twelfth Night, Dear Readers!

What Do You Mean, It Had To Happen?

Peter Rabbit gets hieroglyph tale
Once upon a time, there were four little rabbits and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail and Peter...

Beatrix Potter's classic children's book The Tale of Peter Rabbit has been translated into ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs by the British Museum.

The translation turns the story of a mischievous rabbit into symbols of the Egyptian world, shapes and squiggles.

Peter Rabbit becomes a square, a semi-circle, an ellipse and a rabbit image.

The "time seemed appropriate" for the hieroglyph version, due in April, translators said, as the story had already been published in 35 languages.

Read the full BBC News article here.

And imagine -- they encountered some obstacles along the way. "Potter's landscape and wildlife would also have been unfamiliar to ancient Egyptians - who had no words for things like blackberry, gooseberry, blackcurrant and potato." No kidding. Personally, I'm wondering how they'll translate "Mopsy" into Middle Kingdom heiroglyphics.

Hurrah!

Back at the end of November HRH was contacted by a headhunting agency, referred to them by the friend of a friend. Nothing came of it.

Today, though, another member of the headhunting agency called and asked for his CV and portfolio again. Thanks to the magic of the Internet, he now has an interview on Thursday. Hurrah! And apparently even being at school from January to March won't be an issue! Double hurrah!

Everyone think good thoughts.

Giants Passing Part Two

And Will Eisner died of a heart attack on January 3 at the age of 87, due to complications with heart surgery in late December.

Comfort

Things always seem a little less dire after a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Did I mention I passed 11K yesterday? Okay, so it was only 400 words; but I'd only sat down to type out a few notes after being in bed for quite some time, and ta-da, 11K came and went like magic, which pleased me immensely. Passing 11K sounds much more exciting than writing 400 words.

New Category for New Thoughts on New Family Members

I'm two months pregnant now, and although these entires won't be public until I unlock them from draft to published status, they're all collected under the "Newt" category so you can go through them later if you're so inclined. Sometimes, I've just got to write stuff out, even if I can't publish it just yet because only a handful of people know about the pregnancy this far.

We've made the deliberate choice to keep this to ourselves until around the end of the second trimester when we can't keep it a secret any more. The main reason we haven't told everyone is because I'm a really private person, and I'm having enough trouble dealing with the half-dozen close friends who have questions and advice. I can't imagine fielding advice from people I don't know very well. Ideally, we'd like to keep it to ourselves until I start showing and I have to start fielding questions!

We've done this for a couple of reasons. First, this is our own damned business, and I don't need a bunch of "helpful" advice from people who aren't my doctors, unless I ask for it. Second, we have enough stress on our plate right now without fielding inane questions. Yes, I know the advice and the questions arise from genuine excitement and interest and concern for our well-being, but really, things are fine, and there are other places my energy and attention needs to go right now. On top of that, this news will stress a few other people out, and I don't need the stress of handling other people's stress, thanks. Nothing personal; this is a survival method.

I've been extremely tired, and with the impending second book being dropped into my lap I'm going to have to further readjust my schedule, which means more things will need to be dropped a bit earlier than I expected. Other than the need for eleven to twelve hours of sleep daily, there's been next to no extreme symptoms: no bad nausea, no discomfort. Mild headaches, yes, but I can deal with that.

The category name, "Newt," comes from my father of all people. When we told my parents when they came down for Christmas, HRH was talking about how the embryo had a tail, and my father said, "Like a newt!" And bang, there it was; the baby had a nickname. All baby-related stuff will be put in the "Newt" category from now on. (Just so you know, I've gone back and adjusted the category accordingly on the previous pregnancy-related draft posts, which is why they show up before this announcement of the category creation.)

We're expecting this little one in early August. More updates as events warrant.

Giants Passing

Good lord -- SF artist Kelly Freas died yesterday at the age of 83.

Half A Century

Striking Gould In D.C.
50 Years Ago, a Grand Pianist Caught Washington's Ear

By Tim Page
Sunday, January 2, 2005

Fifty years ago this afternoon, a 22-year-old Canadian pianist named Glenn Gould walked out onto the stage of the Phillips Collection and played his first American recital.

Gould, already famous in his native land for brilliance, originality and what some considered eccentricity, did not disappoint in Washington. Instead of the usual debut fare (some flashy Liszt or Rachmaninoff, perhaps, with one of the more popular Beethoven sonatas thrown in for gravitas), Gould opened his program with music by the obscure English renaissance composer Orlando Gibbons, then moved on to the even more obscure Dutch Renaissance composer Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck. True, he played a sonata by Beethoven (Op. 109) but also one by the Austrian modernist Alban Berg, as well as Anton Webern's eternally elusive "Variations" and a handful of pieces by Johann Sebastian Bach.

Then as now, the capital area tended to empty out around the New Year, and it is doubtful that many people attended Gould's recital on the wet, warm second day of 1955. The world was its typical messy self that Sunday: Anybody who skimmed the front page of The Washington Post would have learned that the United States and the Soviet Union were even angrier than usual with each other; that the national death toll from holiday traffic accidents was expected to top that of the previous year, with more than 500 fatalities recorded since Christmas Eve; that a teenager from Bethesda, depressed by failing grades, had shot himself with the same rifle that had once won him trophies for marksmanship.

[...]

"Glenn Gould of Toronto, Canada, and barely into his twenties, was the pianist. Few pianists play the instrument so beautifully, so lovingly, so musicianly in manner, and with such regard for its real nature and its enormous literature," Hume continued. "Glenn Gould is a pianist with rare gifts for the world. It must not long delay hearing and according him the honor and audience he deserves. We know of no pianist anything like him of any age."

[...]

A little more than a week later, Gould repeated the program in New York, a city he detested. Still, it was in Manhattan that the sultans of the music industry ran their trade, and it was there that Gould was promptly signed to what proved a lifetime recording contract with Columbia Masterworks (which later morphed into CBS Masterworks and later still into Sony Classical). His first disc was devoted to Bach's "Goldberg" Variations; when it was released in early 1956, it made Gould world-famous -- and world-famous he remains.

Gould's performing career ended not long afterwards in 1965, when he ceased public recitals in favour of working exclusively in studios. With this decision his career took a remarkable turn, and he continued to break new ground in broadcasting and composition. I've been a Gould fan since I discovered him in university. Since then I have attended a Gould symposium in Ottawa (one of my first dates with HRH) and a book launch, have contributed extensively to an electronic mailing list focused on Gould's work, and have enjoyed his work in general. I also happen to have been married on his birthday, which means that every year on my anniversary I'm serenaded by Gould on CBC Radio 2, the classical radio station to which I listen.

The WashingtonPost.com reprints the article in entirety here.

Plan B

I got up at seven this morning (a direct result of having a two and a half hour nap late yesterday afternoon). I've done over two hours of web work, and answered e-mail, and caught up on some reviews. I fully intended to settle into some green witch work next, but...

We are not well this morning.

Ick.

Once HRH is up (which may be a while yet, as he was up till one in the morning playing X-Men Legends -- let him have his fun, he goes back to school next week and won't be able to do holiday stuff like this any more) methinks I'll be going back to bed. I'll take books with me and the pile of Post-It notes my father-in-law gave me at Christmas (I will never have to buy sticky notes again. I'm not kidding. You should see this package), and mark places to tie into my book as textural support, and I'll have my notebook too, but I really don't think much actual writing work will get done. Even if my laptop was in my possession (it is currently serving as t!'s emergency unit) I don't think I'd be accomplishing much.

Yes, I've had breakfast, so it's not hunger. Yes, I've had copious amounts of peppermint tea to quell the queasiness. No, nothing has helped. I'm just sick, and I want to be in bed.

I can't work in bed if HRH is asleep. It's almost nine-thirty anyway; he should be up, late night or no late night. I'll go help him along.

Books

The bedroom has been painted. We're here for another five months, after all, and I do spend a lot of time there. It's always been a depressing sort of grey-beige, and HRH made the mistake of saying "I'm bored" the day before New Year's. So the upper two-thirds are a lovely pale peach, the lower third is a darker peach, and there's a crisp white chair-rail separating the two. Very nice. No, I did not help; I'm working on a book. Besides, the paint fumes were bothering me even when I went in periodically for a few minutes to appreciate the transformation.

We went out to Indigo yesterday, because I had a gift certificate courtesy of my parents, and because the hardcovers were still on for 30% off. Neither of the books I was hoping to find were in stock, of course (being Elizabeth Hand's Mortal Love, and Guy Gavriel Kay's Last Light of the Sun; I've been holding off on the latter because of the mixed reviews I've been finding); and none of the reference books on my wish list are ever on store shelves. I am, quite simply, too focused on a narrow academic area of alternative spirituality to simply shop off general shelves filled with pop stuff). I did, however, find a copy of The Grand Tour -- which I have been enjoying immensely, as I knew I would -- and if there had been a hardcover copy of The Enchanted Chocolate Pot I'd have bought it too. I really have no idea why these are now marketed as YA books; not that a thirteen year old or so won't enjoy it, it's just that the original was published as an adult novel so very many years ago. Maybe it's the age of the protagonists (late teens), or the fact that it's a light fantasy (which nonetheless includes death and torture and danger and, well, sex, in veiled terms, as well as requiring a certain familiarity with post-Napoleonic war European history). I picked up the hardcover of Juliet Marillier's Foxmask too, a sequel to Wolfskin, because at thirty percent off it's equivalent to the trade paperback price, and why wait until the trade is out later when I can have it now and pay no more for the privilege? I also snagged a copy of Seduced by Moonlight by Laurell K Hamilton, the latest Merry Gentry paperback, which I will save for when I need something light in the next month or two.

So I have books to read again, and heave a deep sigh of relief. I borrowed Ceri's copy of Angel of Darkness by Sam Key/Charles de Lint, and when I'd read one chapter I realised that I was in no way in the mood for a horror story where kids get killed in gruesome fashion. I think it's going back to her, otherwise it's probably going to sit on my shelf for ages as it has likewise sat on hers.