I’m feeling very pleased with myself just now. In an attempt to avoid watching Gilmore Girls, I thought I’d do a drawing, maybe one last shot at my Anna Paquin/Rogue drawing before I tried a big final version. Except I did a really good job, so this one is the final version! Muahah! It doesn’t look quite like Anna Paquin, but I do think it looks like *Rogue*, so I am very happy with it. The scan’s of god-awful quality, but it’s good enough. Happy me!
learning curve
Besides the “print the book out when you’re stuck” thing that you’d think I’d have learned by now, there are other learning curve bits you’d think I’d have picked up on by now. Like: time spent doing things for me is not actually wasted time that I should be spending writing, because it makes me happier than sitting there drawing blood from my veins trying to get words onto the paper. I whine a lot about needing to get a life. For the first time it’s actually come home to…
navel-gazing
Man, I wish this lightboard tracing I did was a real drawing. I’d gotten into a rather fine mood in general and then looked at it for some reason and now I feel crabby. My, what a fickle beast I am. Wordcount navel-gazing: I ended up with 3K and came in at 228 pages. I obviously could have made the last 2, but as a reward to my sullen writer brain, or something, I watched two episodes of GG and ate strawberries with whipped cream. I’m reasonably certain the whipped…
Writerbrain vs. Voice of Unpleasant Reality
This is what it sounds like in my head this morning: Writerbrain: Crap. I only did 1500 words yesterday. That puts me behind schedule for hitting the halfway mark by tomorrow. How can I fix this? Unpleasant Voice of Reality: By writing more. Writerbrain: AHAHAHAHAHAHA yeah right, ok, try another one. Unpleasant Voice of Reality: No, really. That’s what you’re going to have to do. Writerbrain: Pull the other one, it tickles. Unpleasant Voice of Reality: Look, you’re at page 215 or thereabouts. In order to reasonably achieve 250 pages…
chd strikes again
Didn’t go to the movie yesterday, due to buying too many heavy graphic novels and fruit, none of which I wanted to haul to the movie theatre. This all would have been avoided if I’d just gone to the movie first upon arriving in Cork, but instead I stopped and got my hair cut. This was a week shy of the 6 weeks of Not Doing Anything To My Hair moratorium I’d set, but the ends were very, very dark, and I was growing increasingly unhappy with that, so I…