Ms. Posty McPostperson

Just what you wanted, another post from me, because there’ve been so few of them today. Chance update: it appears that for some reason the files didn’t go to the printer for issue #2. They’ll be sent to the printer at the same time as issue 3, which I gather means they’ll hit the shelves at the same time, somewhere around mid-February. A-Gaimaning we go: Ted and I have tickets to the Jameson Dublin International Film Festival screening of Coraline. We have a Plan to go in to Dublin that…

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blah.

Ok. I have gotten three chapters revised, one with only a couple hundred words changed (but one nearly entirely rewritten). The next chapter is going to probably be half rewritten; some of what it does is good, and some is less good. I would really *really* like to keep the chapter after that, but unless I can forcibly insert plot into it, it’ll have to go. Regardless, the three immediately after that will have to be rewritten entirely. Possibly more than that, I don’t know yet. But what’s in there…

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*Shit*.

I have been having the nagging feeling that I don’t really have a *plot* in place here in this book. That’s not necessarily unusual for this stage: I’m about halfway through and I tend to lose confidence around here. So, in an attempt to shore up my confidence, I went and re-read the synopsis, which I’d been kind of deliberately ignoring because we’d changed a bunch of stuff around and the synopsis didn’t really reflect certainly the way the book ends anymore, at least. Unfortunately, what it does reflect is…

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v. pleased with myself

I woke up at about 6:40 this morning and almost talked myself out of going to swim. But then I thought, “Self, you *always* feel better after exercising, and you know you won’t go later in the day.” So I got up and walked through the POURING RAIN and had a quite nice swim. I did 500 meters of just kicking, which loosened up my very, very, very sore legs (we walked about eight and a half miles on Wednesday, and then yesterday I did barre exercises. My legs huuuuuurt.),…

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tin whistle

I found my tin whistle book. It was…wait for it…shelved tidily in the bookcase not 18 inches from my elbow as I work every day. In my defense, I’d forgotten that it was a full-sized book, and had been searching for a smaller one, which in my opinion explains why I didn’t see it. Also I didn’t look on that bookcase, because I thought I was looking for something smaller (well, I *was* looking for something smaller, just wrongly) and I thought it was on the other bookcase. Or in…

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