Rather than dink around until ten being vaguely grumpy that I hadn’t yet talked myself into writing, I thought I’d just get a bunch of other shit done before ten and then do my writing. So, thus far, I’ve made bread, started laundry, made jelly (oh wow does it smell good, too), and had breakfast. I’m going to go clean the kitchen and take strawberries out for tomorrow’s jam. Then I’ll write. Damn, answering email eats up time. *posts and scurries* ETA: argh. I found another bag of blackberries, which…
as it turns out…
As it turns out, *after* you have freshly painted the cupboards white is not the most clever time to make a very hot sticky bubbly substance which stains at the drop of a hat and absolutely cannot stop being stirred during its creation process to clean up after. And man. I was just having a clumsy as hell day, too. Poured raspberry juice all over the counter, then as I was cleaning up dripped more on the cupboards. The formerly freshly white cupboards, which now need touch-ups. Sigh. Then when…
brr!
Ok, the down side to this weight loss thing is that it’s 73 degrees in my house and I’m COLD. For pity’s sake. o.O Halfway through chapter four of “Ill Met by Moonlight”. I’m enjoying my main character enormously, though she’s now toned down some of her personality quirks in favor of trying to get things done. If I’m lucky I’ll have enough words left over to add a bit more of her quirks back in, but 10K isn’t very much. :) Need to get chapter four done today. It’d…
YAY EBEAR!
HOORAY for EBear, who has won the Campbell Award for Best New Writer! *beam* Yay! *dances around happily*! Now whenever I refer to her I shall have to say “Campbell Award winning author”, like whenever actors who’ve won Oscars are referred to they’re called “Academy Award winning actor”. I’m sure it shall get ever so tiresome. :) YAY BEAR! *beam*! miles to Mount DOOOOOM: 24
“This is never going to work.”
Every time I take one of the size eight pairs of jeans out to put on, I look at how small they are and I think, “This is never going to work.” So far, though, it keeps working. And it struck me that writing is rather a lot like that. Especially doing something like a short story, ’cause I’m not accustomed to them. I’ve got about 3.5K written on this story. My conscious brain keeps thinking, “This is never going to work,” while the rest of me goes ahead and…