hey!

Hey! I went _swimming_! Just 1250 yards, which is a very short swim from my POV, but I was reallyreally trying not to overdo it, because I reallyreally don’t want to end up crippled again. I also did 3-5 minutes worth of bicycling action in the water, because that’s what the chiro told me to do (along with water jogging, which I didn’t do at all). But I went SWIMMING! It was nice! Yaaaay! Except my swimsuit is falling into disrepair and I’m going to have to buy a new one soon. This wouldn’t be such a bother, except for my allowance has been reduced to a piddly $20 a week while I pay for my Rogue and Gambit busts, which is going to take like … until December 6.

Maybe I can have a new swimsuit for Christmas.

I intended to work on the plot for Leader Green while I was swimming, but I forgot until about 90 minutes after I got out of the water. I’ll have to try again on Monday or Tuesday, whenever I swim again.

I fear I have accepted my fate, and I’m sort of mentally setting March aside as a ‘write another YA novel’ month. I also looked through my notes for the other YA stuff I want to write, and maybe /next/ November I’ll give one of them a fling.

1700 fairly painless words on MD today, which I’m pretty pleased about. “Cat exploded,” to quote Neil Gaiman.

(When writing a novel that’s pretty much entirely what life turns into: “House burned down. Car stolen. Cat exploded. Did 1500 easy words, so all in all it was a pretty good day.” “Got call this morning to say I’d got Nobel Prize for literature. Wrote less than 300 words (285) probably unusable, so lousy day.” And so forth.)

I believe I’ll start using that as a rule of thumb for good and bad writing days. “Cat exploded”, and “Nobel Prize”.

I’ve eaten enough garlic to knock out a dragon. Somebody bring me a dragon, and I’ll prove it!