I’m reading this book, little by little, that my anti-mommy gave me for Christmas. It is called Between Ourselves; Letters Between Mothers and Daughters. And as I read these letters and these stories about the letters and the love of famous and unknown women alike I wonder why I am made to feel that writing letters is a bad thing.
“What’s wrong with a phone call?”
I could go on for hours on that topic! I hate the telephone. I call my dad because he lives so far away and I cannot survive without his advice. I call my husband because we live together yet I rarely get to see him.
Thousands of years we survived and flourished without the use of the telephone. There were missives carried on sweating, galloping horseback from one king to another. There were vows of love hidden in secret places, known only to those amorous enough to find them. There were entire sacks full of words transferred thousands of miles on bright, shiny-new railways, and there are those delivered by the well-known postman to someone just down the street. There was dirt and despair of war penned back to light and worried, waiting life across the sea and there are conversations of introduction and getting-to-know-you of pen pals.
Letters are beautiful things and I love them. Because they are filled with my favorite things; ink and words (which are themselves made up of letters) put on paper; scrawled or dictated, typed or etched or cut from newspaper and pasted down. Letters are eternal, yes both the good and the bad.
“What’s wrong with a phone call?”
Oh, but they’re so impersonal! A sweaty hunk of plastic crammed against my head. I can’t see your face and if there’s something more interesting right in front of me I can focus on that instead. Then, when it’s over, what’s left? Nothing, really. All the words fade and are forgotten.
Letters take time and patience to craft. They draw out the truths in revisions when you realized you’ve used the wrong words to say what you mean. They draw and expel anger away in their writing, and even if some of it falls to the page you can always come back before it’s sent and append or set it to flame and start again.
Mr. Darcy explained all and made Elizabeth finally love him with a letter. Amelie mended the broken heart of a neighbor with a well-meaning albeit forged letter lost in transit for 40 years. Fiction, yes, but even fiction is a letter from the author’s soul to the hearts of the rest of the world.
Writing, when I know saying it out loud will not suffice, does not make me a coward. It does not signify disrespect or a hit-and-run approach to communication. Writing, when a phone call could be made, simply indicates that I should have been born into a different time of simpler communication. Because words fall out of my mouth in a tumbling
disjointed way and I always get things wrong. When I put pen to paper and have the time to carefully organize my thoughts and the ability to cross out and resay what I’ve said then I appear fluent in my own language.
Letters are beautiful things.
Showing posts with label misc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label misc. Show all posts
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Being A Girl
My original plan for this post headed in a different direction than we’re going today. The longer I mentally composed it, the more things occurred to me to force me to realize what it really was I wanted to say. In the beginning I wanted it to be a story of what it’s like to grow up without a female presence. in the end perhaps it’s what it’s like to grow up with a strong male presence instead. The moment it changed the most drastically was when, at our Easter family gathering my sister-cousin told me to close my eyes and then commented, “You don’t even wear makeup and you know how to put it on. I always feel like mine is the scrawling of a 4 year old.”
That’s one of those things I had to teach myself because I had no one to do it. But I realize that the other deficiencies are minor and few. but the benefit of a fatherly run household are immense. This I realized because of Barbie.
I cannot align myself with the women’s groups who throw a huge fit over the fact that Barbie sets unrealistic standards for little girls. I wonder, does she really? or is it we adults who want to be Barbie and we project our wants on our daughters? Because I never wanted to be Barbie. Did I know subconsciously even as a child that Barbie is not a real representation of a woman? I don’t know. I do know who I wanted to be. Samantha Parkington, my American Girl Doll. I wanted to be her, with her round arms, chubby hands with dimpled knuckles, her soft and squishy middle and charming back story.
I do not have unreal expectations about my body or appearance. Yes, I am currently in the middle of a weight loss event; 16 pounds down 24 to go. But this is croc weight and my goal is neither unattainable nor set in stone. If I find comfort and happiness 10 or 15 or 20 pounds from now, fine. I only want to be at a healthy weight before I start my next pregnancy and have a healthy lifestyle that means I won’t gain as much as last time. I only want to feel good and not uncomfortable, constrained in my clothes. That’s really not actually a hard thing to do; yoga pants and stretchy tank tops are my very best friends.
I think I gained this ability to accept myself as-is because I did not have an example of a woman questing for the unattainable when I was young and impressionable. instead I had my dad; long hair, tattoos, ear piercings, wearing whatever tshirt was on top of the pile; looking the way he looked and not taking shit for it. yes, I wear make up, but it’s eye shadow and mascara, when I feel like it. Yes, I like to dress nicely in bright colors and newer styles, but it’s Old Navy that’s the store eating up all of my clothing budget. And it may be headed in the wrong direction to say this, feminism-wise, but I like causing my husband to think i’m attractive. I don’t want him to think of me as the frumpy hobo who watches his kid.
In the end I hope most that this is what the croc learns from me when she’s looking for a role model in loving of self and finding of beauty in flaws and the confidence to take it all in stride. I hope her eyes land on me and not some silly piece of plastic. I can be her good example and I don’t even have to temper my own actions; watch what I do or say. this is already the way I am; who my dad raised me to be.
And so, as a mom with a daughter, I stand behind Barbie. She is a vet and a doctor, a teacher and a flight attendant, a homemaker, best friend, big sister and mom. And if you can find nothing else positive about that silly piece of plastic, she teaches hella fine motor skills; those tiny velcroed outfits are a bitch to get on and off!
That’s one of those things I had to teach myself because I had no one to do it. But I realize that the other deficiencies are minor and few. but the benefit of a fatherly run household are immense. This I realized because of Barbie.
I cannot align myself with the women’s groups who throw a huge fit over the fact that Barbie sets unrealistic standards for little girls. I wonder, does she really? or is it we adults who want to be Barbie and we project our wants on our daughters? Because I never wanted to be Barbie. Did I know subconsciously even as a child that Barbie is not a real representation of a woman? I don’t know. I do know who I wanted to be. Samantha Parkington, my American Girl Doll. I wanted to be her, with her round arms, chubby hands with dimpled knuckles, her soft and squishy middle and charming back story.
I do not have unreal expectations about my body or appearance. Yes, I am currently in the middle of a weight loss event; 16 pounds down 24 to go. But this is croc weight and my goal is neither unattainable nor set in stone. If I find comfort and happiness 10 or 15 or 20 pounds from now, fine. I only want to be at a healthy weight before I start my next pregnancy and have a healthy lifestyle that means I won’t gain as much as last time. I only want to feel good and not uncomfortable, constrained in my clothes. That’s really not actually a hard thing to do; yoga pants and stretchy tank tops are my very best friends.
I think I gained this ability to accept myself as-is because I did not have an example of a woman questing for the unattainable when I was young and impressionable. instead I had my dad; long hair, tattoos, ear piercings, wearing whatever tshirt was on top of the pile; looking the way he looked and not taking shit for it. yes, I wear make up, but it’s eye shadow and mascara, when I feel like it. Yes, I like to dress nicely in bright colors and newer styles, but it’s Old Navy that’s the store eating up all of my clothing budget. And it may be headed in the wrong direction to say this, feminism-wise, but I like causing my husband to think i’m attractive. I don’t want him to think of me as the frumpy hobo who watches his kid.
In the end I hope most that this is what the croc learns from me when she’s looking for a role model in loving of self and finding of beauty in flaws and the confidence to take it all in stride. I hope her eyes land on me and not some silly piece of plastic. I can be her good example and I don’t even have to temper my own actions; watch what I do or say. this is already the way I am; who my dad raised me to be.
And so, as a mom with a daughter, I stand behind Barbie. She is a vet and a doctor, a teacher and a flight attendant, a homemaker, best friend, big sister and mom. And if you can find nothing else positive about that silly piece of plastic, she teaches hella fine motor skills; those tiny velcroed outfits are a bitch to get on and off!
Monday, October 8, 2012
Distressed and Rambling
It's not even the lack of time that i use as my excuse. It's my doubtfullness.
I worry that, in the end, the conflict of the second story, The Prophet, is weak. And without that story, there is nothing else. The first one's only there to set it up. The third one is only there to set up the fifth but cannot exist without the second...
I guess it's what i've been tryign to work on, since i am rewriting it all over again. The other four grew out of what it was supposed to be, not what it was. i fear my foundation is shaky...that there are plot holes i can't seem to fill.
Maybe, though, i can blame the time. because when do i really have any time to sit down and thnk about it?
i have beautifully terrifying outlines and post-it notes everwhere. i need a sabbatical. but captioning assistants don't get those.
and i know that's why i've been so focused on Eillim and Enna lately in their little stories. because they entwine with but are not dependant upon the main, treacherous bodies. Chapter Eleven of the The Pilot revolve around them but with a little editing i could pull it right out and the twins could exist free entirely of the insanity of the Ankaverse.
...and now that i've said that, i wonder... could i pull it out in such a way as to still leave it in (god, i hate myself) the same span of time, from their point of view...
i just don't like the gap of information between Shade and Shadow and Letters, some of which exists in Chapter Eleven. i'd like to put them Smashwords. still waiting to hear back from glimmer train on whether or not i continue with the process for Third Bed...
in other news, i watched The Avengers again tonight. i still think that it is better than the sum of it's parts. i loved it more than i loved Ironman and I. Love. Ironman. i have a very meh feeling about all the rest of them (you know, except for that hot thing. i am still a girl)... i always expect Captian America to yell "Flame on!" one guy really shouldn't be two superheroes...
but when they all come together and they each have their own seperate personality and joss whedon is fabulous... yeah. i love the avengers.
I worry that, in the end, the conflict of the second story, The Prophet, is weak. And without that story, there is nothing else. The first one's only there to set it up. The third one is only there to set up the fifth but cannot exist without the second...
I guess it's what i've been tryign to work on, since i am rewriting it all over again. The other four grew out of what it was supposed to be, not what it was. i fear my foundation is shaky...that there are plot holes i can't seem to fill.
Maybe, though, i can blame the time. because when do i really have any time to sit down and thnk about it?
i have beautifully terrifying outlines and post-it notes everwhere. i need a sabbatical. but captioning assistants don't get those.
and i know that's why i've been so focused on Eillim and Enna lately in their little stories. because they entwine with but are not dependant upon the main, treacherous bodies. Chapter Eleven of the The Pilot revolve around them but with a little editing i could pull it right out and the twins could exist free entirely of the insanity of the Ankaverse.
...and now that i've said that, i wonder... could i pull it out in such a way as to still leave it in (god, i hate myself) the same span of time, from their point of view...
i just don't like the gap of information between Shade and Shadow and Letters, some of which exists in Chapter Eleven. i'd like to put them Smashwords. still waiting to hear back from glimmer train on whether or not i continue with the process for Third Bed...
in other news, i watched The Avengers again tonight. i still think that it is better than the sum of it's parts. i loved it more than i loved Ironman and I. Love. Ironman. i have a very meh feeling about all the rest of them (you know, except for that hot thing. i am still a girl)... i always expect Captian America to yell "Flame on!" one guy really shouldn't be two superheroes...
but when they all come together and they each have their own seperate personality and joss whedon is fabulous... yeah. i love the avengers.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
TBSC: Day 8
Today's the last full day. i haven't been doing anything special. Downton Abbey up the wazoo. i got to work today and i'm reading Sense and Sensibility and i sat down and was somewhat disappointed; elinor and marianne... pfft. i want Mary and Matthew.
The house is nearly clean. my fingers hurt from the flower wrapping, but my are they pretty.
The house is nearly clean. my fingers hurt from the flower wrapping, but my are they pretty.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
TBSC, Day Two
i didn't go to the coffee place like i expected to. i didn't feel like working on my stuff after being all frazzled from the real job... because a four hour shift is a hell of a long shift.
so instead i came home and worked on stuff. i finished the baby's scrapbook for the party. i did some bathroom stuff. i went for a drive.
we can't put me on speaker phone because when she hears my voice she cries. but i've been engrossed in making a scrapbook about her all day so it wasn't like she was really gone.
but i still leave the light on low in the living room.
so instead i came home and worked on stuff. i finished the baby's scrapbook for the party. i did some bathroom stuff. i went for a drive.
we can't put me on speaker phone because when she hears my voice she cries. but i've been engrossed in making a scrapbook about her all day so it wasn't like she was really gone.
but i still leave the light on low in the living room.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Nano 2012??
She is standing with her back to the street, ignoring but not entirely immune to the out-of-date sounds of city life. No honking horns, no whoosh of the hover vehicles. Only horses hooves and creaky wooden axels and wheels on cobblestones.
She is staring up at the brick face of a industrial building puffing black smoke into the clear, bright sky. she knows her companion, her mandated protoge is impatiently waiting behind her. She uses all of her reserves to keep from turning around and snapping at him.
"He was here," she says, only partially to the one who stands behind her. "Twenty years ago, six weeks from now."
"How do you know?" he asks her.
She points toward the marking high up near the top of the building wall that has been faded by the weather in the past two decades. Without her he wouldn't have seen it. But she's been searching for these marks and others like them for 15 years. She knows how to find them, where they'll be, what they'll say.
"Come on," she says and stalks off, drawing glances from people on the street. Her appearance fits in just fine, but her attitude is off. She's frustrated and forgetful. "We missed him. Let's get back to Present."
She is staring up at the brick face of a industrial building puffing black smoke into the clear, bright sky. she knows her companion, her mandated protoge is impatiently waiting behind her. She uses all of her reserves to keep from turning around and snapping at him.
"He was here," she says, only partially to the one who stands behind her. "Twenty years ago, six weeks from now."
"How do you know?" he asks her.
She points toward the marking high up near the top of the building wall that has been faded by the weather in the past two decades. Without her he wouldn't have seen it. But she's been searching for these marks and others like them for 15 years. She knows how to find them, where they'll be, what they'll say.
"Come on," she says and stalks off, drawing glances from people on the street. Her appearance fits in just fine, but her attitude is off. She's frustrated and forgetful. "We missed him. Let's get back to Present."
Thursday, June 21, 2012
The Traveler and Sherlock Holmes
Let's start with Sherlock. I recently watched the final episode of House and in the retrospective i learned that he was based a lot on Holmes. I realized that i know so little about Sherlock that i never saw any of the links. not even something so small as House and Holmes having the same house number. I felt incomplete and lacking.
This past weekend the husband and i watched the first Sherlock Holmes movie and then last night we watched the new one. we'd seen the first one before, i liked it better the second time around. The husband was asking me questions about Holmes and, again, i knew not enough!
I don't know exactly how long ago it was that i bought a book of Holmes stories but i decided finally to take it to work and read them already. I'm bad with short stories, as i've said before, so i'm just gonna read them one per day until i'm done. there's 22 stories in the book so there's 30 some that i have to find elsewhere. but maybe i'll be done with the whole thing after i finish this book... we'll have to see.
And unlike the morons on Goodreads who judge Dracula by the merits of Twilight i will not be judging Sherlock by the merits of Robert Downy Jr. (or Gregory House for that matter...)
in related events, i have yet to find my next book in my Meryl Streepathon... it's mostly becuase i keep forgetting to put the list of books in my wallet so i have it with me when i go book shopping. I did see a Michael Cunningham book when i went to the book store today but i didn't know if it was the right one. (though i did get Little Women and Werewolves. i loved Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and was iffy on Sense and Sensibility and Seamonsters... but i figured why not? i love werewolves. I also got another F. Scott Fitzgerald book, which is ridiculous. i didn't like The Great Gatsby and i'm still only a quarter of the way through This Side of Paradise which is just a sliver of a book... ah well...)
And on to The Traveler. oh, there's this whole big story about this book, how i bought it and why, what i was expecting from it and what i got instead... But it's just crazy. and the fact that the author, John Twelve Hawks, is a pseudonym and he has NEVER REVEALED HIS TRUE IDENTITY. he lives off the grid. he speaks to his editor through email and on a satellite phone with a voice modifier. What the hell!? it almost makes me think that this story he's telling, about living off the grid and all the stuff that's going on under the radar of the drones and the citizens (that's us) is ACTUALLY HAPPENING! i want to google about travelers and harlequins but i'm afraid that the brethren are actually watching and there's computer viruses loaded into those websites to keep us away...
This past weekend the husband and i watched the first Sherlock Holmes movie and then last night we watched the new one. we'd seen the first one before, i liked it better the second time around. The husband was asking me questions about Holmes and, again, i knew not enough!
I don't know exactly how long ago it was that i bought a book of Holmes stories but i decided finally to take it to work and read them already. I'm bad with short stories, as i've said before, so i'm just gonna read them one per day until i'm done. there's 22 stories in the book so there's 30 some that i have to find elsewhere. but maybe i'll be done with the whole thing after i finish this book... we'll have to see.
And unlike the morons on Goodreads who judge Dracula by the merits of Twilight i will not be judging Sherlock by the merits of Robert Downy Jr. (or Gregory House for that matter...)
in related events, i have yet to find my next book in my Meryl Streepathon... it's mostly becuase i keep forgetting to put the list of books in my wallet so i have it with me when i go book shopping. I did see a Michael Cunningham book when i went to the book store today but i didn't know if it was the right one. (though i did get Little Women and Werewolves. i loved Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and was iffy on Sense and Sensibility and Seamonsters... but i figured why not? i love werewolves. I also got another F. Scott Fitzgerald book, which is ridiculous. i didn't like The Great Gatsby and i'm still only a quarter of the way through This Side of Paradise which is just a sliver of a book... ah well...)
And on to The Traveler. oh, there's this whole big story about this book, how i bought it and why, what i was expecting from it and what i got instead... But it's just crazy. and the fact that the author, John Twelve Hawks, is a pseudonym and he has NEVER REVEALED HIS TRUE IDENTITY. he lives off the grid. he speaks to his editor through email and on a satellite phone with a voice modifier. What the hell!? it almost makes me think that this story he's telling, about living off the grid and all the stuff that's going on under the radar of the drones and the citizens (that's us) is ACTUALLY HAPPENING! i want to google about travelers and harlequins but i'm afraid that the brethren are actually watching and there's computer viruses loaded into those websites to keep us away...
Monday, June 4, 2012
The Meryl Streep-athon
I don't know if it can really be called an "-athon" but that's what i'm calling it. i made the list of all of her movies that came from books. here's the list:
Kramer vs. Kramer - Avery Corman
The French Lieutenant's Wife - John Fowles
Sophie's Choice - William Styron
Out of Africa - Isak Dinesen
Ironweed - William Kennedy
Evil Angels - John Bryson
Postcards From the Edge - Carrie Fischer
One True Thing -Anna Quindlen
The Orchid Thief - Susan Orlean
The Hours - Michael Cunningham (ha! that's my cousin, sort of)
The Manchurian Candidate - Richard Condon
That list does not include Julie and Julia and The Bridges of Madison County (both of which i've read but not seen) and The Devil Wears Prada, which i've both read and seen. Sophie's Choice i've seen but not read.
So, now i have to track down all those books. i don't know which one to do first... but i should probably start carrying the list around with me so when i go to the book store i can find the books. i couldn't remember all those authors' names if it was my life depending upon it.
In other news, Smashwords!! The Third Bed is almost completely reformatted to be uploaded. wait, scratch that. it's completely converted and ready to go, except for the cover photo. i'm hoping my cousin (not the sort of cousin from above, the other one) will do me a cover page, and that will be awesome.
I like that i started with something simple like The Third Bed because i just had to do the formatting and i also managed to learn some stuff about my new Word program that i didn't know before. because everything got changed and moved and i couldn't find jack shit. But since it's a short story and there was no italics or chapter breaks or font changes or anything crazy like that to deal with it was a quick conversion. Shade and Shadow is five chapter with breaks within the chapters. all that shift-shimmer shit is gonna drive me crazy.
but i have a background with which to start and not pull all my hair out... at least not immediately.
Kramer vs. Kramer - Avery Corman
The French Lieutenant's Wife - John Fowles
Sophie's Choice - William Styron
Out of Africa - Isak Dinesen
Ironweed - William Kennedy
Evil Angels - John Bryson
Postcards From the Edge - Carrie Fischer
One True Thing -Anna Quindlen
The Orchid Thief - Susan Orlean
The Hours - Michael Cunningham (ha! that's my cousin, sort of)
The Manchurian Candidate - Richard Condon
That list does not include Julie and Julia and The Bridges of Madison County (both of which i've read but not seen) and The Devil Wears Prada, which i've both read and seen. Sophie's Choice i've seen but not read.
So, now i have to track down all those books. i don't know which one to do first... but i should probably start carrying the list around with me so when i go to the book store i can find the books. i couldn't remember all those authors' names if it was my life depending upon it.
In other news, Smashwords!! The Third Bed is almost completely reformatted to be uploaded. wait, scratch that. it's completely converted and ready to go, except for the cover photo. i'm hoping my cousin (not the sort of cousin from above, the other one) will do me a cover page, and that will be awesome.
I like that i started with something simple like The Third Bed because i just had to do the formatting and i also managed to learn some stuff about my new Word program that i didn't know before. because everything got changed and moved and i couldn't find jack shit. But since it's a short story and there was no italics or chapter breaks or font changes or anything crazy like that to deal with it was a quick conversion. Shade and Shadow is five chapter with breaks within the chapters. all that shift-shimmer shit is gonna drive me crazy.
but i have a background with which to start and not pull all my hair out... at least not immediately.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
So I Lied
I did manage to both work and do some writing over this long, long week off. I typed up the rest of the bits that i'd written for The Guide.
I also read through The Third Bed. I so very much want to get that up on smashwords and considering that i only changed maybe a dozen words on this read through i think it's ready. I just have to format it and that's where i lose focus. there's so many steps!
maybe i need to go to the coffee place and sit down and do it.
and then i can do it to Shade and Shadow, cuz that's the other one i want to put up there.
but now i have to work some more. and i have to go back to the real job tomorrow so i have to figure out what i'm going to work on or what i'm going to read...
I also read through The Third Bed. I so very much want to get that up on smashwords and considering that i only changed maybe a dozen words on this read through i think it's ready. I just have to format it and that's where i lose focus. there's so many steps!
maybe i need to go to the coffee place and sit down and do it.
and then i can do it to Shade and Shadow, cuz that's the other one i want to put up there.
but now i have to work some more. and i have to go back to the real job tomorrow so i have to figure out what i'm going to work on or what i'm going to read...
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Making His Move
I tell him, at the hotel the night before the wedding, that he could've gone to play with the boys. i don't mind working in our room with the TV on in the background alone.
"Yeah, but I didn't want to take a shot, i could have said 'no' but i want to go to bed soon," he tells me as he crosses to the window.
"We're old. We're one of those old married couples," I sigh.
"Yeah. A kid does that," he agrees. A pause, "Aw, look at that old married couple sitting on the bench."
"Really?"
"Yeah, come see."
And i do.
"He's making his move," he tells me.
"Yeah, but I didn't want to take a shot, i could have said 'no' but i want to go to bed soon," he tells me as he crosses to the window.
"We're old. We're one of those old married couples," I sigh.
"Yeah. A kid does that," he agrees. A pause, "Aw, look at that old married couple sitting on the bench."
"Really?"
"Yeah, come see."
And i do.
"He's making his move," he tells me.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Bemused Disappointment
It takes a lot to get through my days at my real job. yes, getting through is the entire point of the job that pays for my health insurance. When it comes to my from-home job, i sometimes have frustrations, but for the most part it's almost blissful. if only i could pay for insurance then i'd quit and there would be no need for clarification; it would simply be my job.
To get through a day of work i employ many tatics. i edit stories. i write stories. i read stories. Good books can be both a blessing and a curse when it comes to soldiering through a day. they can be so good that my day flies by; before i know it it's lunchtime and a moment later i get to go home. but they can also be so good that i can't stand to be torn from them for the 2 minute or less mis-dials, voicemails, and hang ups. and don't even get me started on the 40 minute gab-fests.
today was one of those latter days. Reading Julie and Julia my day ended up being at least 17 hours long. (then i come home to find out some disheartening news regarding my crafting, but that's a story for a different blog...which i never update anyway...) but i can't wait to see the movie now, which i've always wanted to. Hello? Meryl Streep? Stanley Tucci? hell yeah.
I also have finally printed out The Pilot and i finished reading through it this morning early in the day (while i was still expecting to read Jack The Ripper and not exactly looking forward to it. i was hoping for some fantasy speculative shadowing of the renowned serial killer, but instead it's all about a doctor buying and selling whores and then looking at other whores once they've been sliced up. yawn). I am not at all impressed with that first draft of The Pilot now that i've gone through it. there is almost nothing awesome about it, and for the most part i do tend to be at least a little awesome.
it does get a bit better following the point where i'd paused to write The Medium and then came back with full knowledge of where it should go.
i tried to write a list of things to change/add/modify but really all it says is "It Needs More Overall"
very insightful, wouldn't you say?
To get through a day of work i employ many tatics. i edit stories. i write stories. i read stories. Good books can be both a blessing and a curse when it comes to soldiering through a day. they can be so good that my day flies by; before i know it it's lunchtime and a moment later i get to go home. but they can also be so good that i can't stand to be torn from them for the 2 minute or less mis-dials, voicemails, and hang ups. and don't even get me started on the 40 minute gab-fests.
today was one of those latter days. Reading Julie and Julia my day ended up being at least 17 hours long. (then i come home to find out some disheartening news regarding my crafting, but that's a story for a different blog...which i never update anyway...) but i can't wait to see the movie now, which i've always wanted to. Hello? Meryl Streep? Stanley Tucci? hell yeah.
I also have finally printed out The Pilot and i finished reading through it this morning early in the day (while i was still expecting to read Jack The Ripper and not exactly looking forward to it. i was hoping for some fantasy speculative shadowing of the renowned serial killer, but instead it's all about a doctor buying and selling whores and then looking at other whores once they've been sliced up. yawn). I am not at all impressed with that first draft of The Pilot now that i've gone through it. there is almost nothing awesome about it, and for the most part i do tend to be at least a little awesome.
it does get a bit better following the point where i'd paused to write The Medium and then came back with full knowledge of where it should go.
i tried to write a list of things to change/add/modify but really all it says is "It Needs More Overall"
very insightful, wouldn't you say?
Friday, May 4, 2012
Reading and Writing
I've actually gotten a lot done since my last post. i have read several books. another Joyce Carol Oates, the newest Gunslinger related novel, and just today Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Allen, a new favorite. books full of magic and non-obnoxious romance. she has three others (four, including the other one i've already read, Garden Spells) and i need them all. tomorrow i got back to Jack The Ripper which is interesting and disgusting.
Also, i have done a thorough rerecompileagain of The Guide. A new outline, a bunch of newish and revised stuff for the beginning section. it was while i was rewriting the The Prophet that I realized that i needed the beginning of The Guide to be better; needed more information. as it stood it seemed too much like i was just expecting people to know things.
I took The Medium to work today but it turns out there's really not a lot to do there, which is why i stopped working on it in the first place. of course, i did stop like mid-sentence. don't know what that's all about. way to go, past Sara. how am i supposed to finish a sentence i started months and months ago?
There's only so much i can do at work. i need some serious time to sit down and type up what i have (or maybe i should use Dragon. i wonder if it will work on my new laptop Sullivan better than it did on my old laptop Elenore... i wonder if i know where i put the install disc...) and also to edit things and shuffle the digital of what i've already shuffled in the hard copy.
Who has spare time in a jar? i've got money, i'll pay for it.
Also, i have done a thorough rerecompileagain of The Guide. A new outline, a bunch of newish and revised stuff for the beginning section. it was while i was rewriting the The Prophet that I realized that i needed the beginning of The Guide to be better; needed more information. as it stood it seemed too much like i was just expecting people to know things.
I took The Medium to work today but it turns out there's really not a lot to do there, which is why i stopped working on it in the first place. of course, i did stop like mid-sentence. don't know what that's all about. way to go, past Sara. how am i supposed to finish a sentence i started months and months ago?
There's only so much i can do at work. i need some serious time to sit down and type up what i have (or maybe i should use Dragon. i wonder if it will work on my new laptop Sullivan better than it did on my old laptop Elenore... i wonder if i know where i put the install disc...) and also to edit things and shuffle the digital of what i've already shuffled in the hard copy.
Who has spare time in a jar? i've got money, i'll pay for it.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
how i love thee.
i read something, somewhere about as a writer using pinterest as a place to garner interest in stories. most of their suggestions for doing so were stupid, so i didn't. and then i saw this image of a woman wearing sparkly leggings and boots and big clunky socks or leg warmers. i knew they were Jo's legs (though much skinnier!) so i started a pinterest board with images from stories. All the images say what i see and in what story they appear, and i'm sticking to my chosen names. have i put them all down in one place yet?
The Guide
The Prophet
The Medium
The Pilot
The Child
I'm not positive of the order because the medium and the pilot are pretty interchangeable. but whatever, it doesn't matter yet. they're pretty there where they are.
anyway, here's the pinterest board which also includes Petra from an unrelated (though subtly connected but you'll never notice it) story that i call Running Parallel and mention from time to time. http://pinterest.com/vodkavases/stories/
also, there's a button over there on the right side so you can follow me if you like. i'll probably follow you back.
and how about the makeover? pretty cool, right. i was thinking about it all day at work and it's the first thing i did when i got home.
i read something, somewhere about as a writer using pinterest as a place to garner interest in stories. most of their suggestions for doing so were stupid, so i didn't. and then i saw this image of a woman wearing sparkly leggings and boots and big clunky socks or leg warmers. i knew they were Jo's legs (though much skinnier!) so i started a pinterest board with images from stories. All the images say what i see and in what story they appear, and i'm sticking to my chosen names. have i put them all down in one place yet?
The Guide
The Prophet
The Medium
The Pilot
The Child
I'm not positive of the order because the medium and the pilot are pretty interchangeable. but whatever, it doesn't matter yet. they're pretty there where they are.
anyway, here's the pinterest board which also includes Petra from an unrelated (though subtly connected but you'll never notice it) story that i call Running Parallel and mention from time to time. http://pinterest.com/vodkavases/stories/
also, there's a button over there on the right side so you can follow me if you like. i'll probably follow you back.
and how about the makeover? pretty cool, right. i was thinking about it all day at work and it's the first thing i did when i got home.
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