Tag: amazingly enough

Now, with added itchiness


Okay, so not necessarily more. Just ongoing. Damn pink eye/conjunctivitis or whatever.

But it didn’t stop me from writing today, and that was even after the two First Communion masses. I managed a good 1700 words over the last three hours, which is very good for me.

Extremely good.

Which means I can do it when I just sit down and write. So there you go. As if the universe had to give me the reminder.

New words are wonderful, you know?

Now to add drops to my eyes and just hit my bed. I had a short nap this afternoon, and it’s as though that sleep does not count for anything. Maybe it’ll all be better in the morning.

It had better be. I’m going back to school Monday one way or the other.

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And things are looking up…


…although I’m a bit too exhausted to really appreciate them. The eyes are better, the ears are still plugged, but no pain, and I’m damn grateful for my inhaler. A nap mugged me after school, and that got me through the rest of the evening.

But even though I’m falling apart, I got 40 whole words on a new scene.

So hey, progress.

And now, to bed, before I fall over in heap.

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I think I may have a kinda sorta semi-decent zero draft of a query.

(This was not even a remote inkling of an idea an hour ago. Now if only a miracle would finish that novel rewrite for me.)

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That’s what friends are for


And when they’re right, they’re right.

Bless ’em.

So because of Deb’s crit, my opening novel scene is not only two pages shorter, it’s amazingly better.

She just highlighted the first two pages and told me to completely cut them.

So I did. Okay, minor modification. I kept one paragraph (Touch of setting first. Thanks, Chip.) and added one sentence prior to the point she selected, and it was… perfect.

I don’t say that very often. But I’m at the point where I’m agonizing over single words and the thesaurus has become my best friend, so it’s reached perfection.

Now I just have to take care of the other 99,000 words. I wish chopping the second scene was as easily done.

Then the Posse had a nice chat about outlining, and I’m still tinkering with the concept of outlining–I’m playing with the corkboard on Scrivener and trying the pacing chart Jenn (of the Freeway Dragons) told me about, and winging it the rest of the time. But I’m pretty sure if I could outline, I’d write faster. Like maybe write the first draft during the summer and spend the rest of the year rewriting and outlining the next?

It sounds plausible.

Writing isn’t so much an issue when I know what to write. But when I’m making shit up and come to a screeching halt because I’m not certain that it’s going to work?

Yeah, then.

And the next step after that is to run away. To avoid writing because I don’t know what to do or how to fix it. It shouldn’t take a freaking seven years to write a damn novel. And then rewrite it. And half of that time not rewriting it. Twice.

I just have to look at writers I know: Bear. Keri Arthur. Jodi. Jaime. A bunch more.

And then do it. Write.

So tonight’s effort didn’t produce much after that beginning salvo, but I spent an hour and half doing it.

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David Garrett tickets in February at the Wilshire Ebell. Yay!

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Even my eyelashes are standing at attention.


The Eldest Child made coffee this morning.

This would also explain why he feels the need to leap mountains on a regular basis. I must have thrice the usual caffeine coursing through my veins. (I’m going to have a second cup anyway. Watch out.)

No writing. No packing. No laundry. I suck.

OTO, I have lesson plans for the next three days complete, I’ve restrung all the pattern bead boards with new shoelaces, and the Red Ribbon week photos for the door are done. I just have to smack them up once I get to school.

Sadly, caffeine doesn’t do a thing for allergies. I can only hope Columbus has new and improved pollen and/or mold and that it’ll take a couple of days for the nose to acclimate, and then I’ll be gone.

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How to wake me in the middle of the night–short of an earthquake


Harley: *bark* *barkbarkbarkbark*
Me: Shhhhhhh!
Harley: *bark* *barkbarkbarkbark*
Me: Shhhhh! *claps hands for good measure*
Harley:*bark* *barkbarkbarkbark**bark* *barkbarkbarkbark*
Me: *realizes Harley is not outside but in the Eldest Child’s bedroom raising holy hell* Oh, hell.
Harley: *bark* *barkbarkbarkbark**bark* *barkbarkbarkbark*
Zoey: *rumble*
Me: Spousling! There’s a cat in the house!
Spousling: Is the window open?
Me: O.o No.
Harley: *leaps onto desk for duel*
Intruder Cat: *spits, hisses, snarls, claws*
Zoey: *rumbles*
Me: *snatches Harley away, and after much fighting with the dogs, corral them in our bedroom and closes the door on the too-hot-to-handle intruder cat*

Another two hours pass where I snarl go to sleep at Harley who is scratching to be let out.

Morning comes too soon. I manage to escape my room without Harley, who is going to kill that intruder no matter what, and capture the cat. Nice cat with a collar that states Sofia is an outside cat.


I put her out the front door. But she’s not much of an outdoor cat based on her need for dog-based shelter in the rain.

Meanwhile, Harley is still sniffing the house suspiciously. Apparently Sofia’s nocturnal visit contaminated everything.

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In which a sewing machine appears


I was going to a wedding. A wedding that did not involve me, other than my appearance, nor did it involve any of my children, which means I was not sewing.

Yeah, right.

So the Slug arrives and announces that she will either need me to take in her bodice (strapless issues, of course) or pin the dress to her, and have the bra slide down. Choices, choices.

Well, no. It wasn’t my house. Not my machine, so hey, no choice. Bra and pins. Too bad, honey.

Except I get to my friends’ house, ready to do whatever, and it turns out the whatever is a bridesmaid’s hem. Five inches shorter. I whack off five inches and get the Janome to cooperate–which takes me some doing, because I’m a Bernina kinda girl.

Switching feet is an issue. Threading is an issue. Winding a lousy bobbin is an issue. And the machine is an electronic, so it recognizes stuff like magic and just wants me to trust it’ll know what it’s doing.

Yeah, right. Not so much on the trusting thing. However, I do call the Slug and tell her to be over at the house in an hour and there will be fixes made on her dress.

Let me just state–for the record–that tiny rolled hems and polyester satin suck. Not as bad as chiffon, but I was having chiffon flashbacks as I stitched. Three hems later (Did I mention the inner lining, the lining, and the top fabric? No? Well. There they were. And then there was that little time issue with the bridesmaid and meeting up at the hotel for photos. She was only ten minutes late.) the Slug shows up, we try it on, thankfully, this is a cheaply-made dress so they finished the top edge, then put the side seams in and stitched them down. Great for me. One minute per side and I was through and the day was saved.

One of these days there will be a wedding where I will sew NOTHING. But it wasn’t this one. And really, I’d prefer that any sewing be finished the week before rather than two hours prior to the ceremony start.

But hey, the bride was beautiful, the wedding and reception went off without any trouble, and we had a great time. Still, what is it about weddings and me being stalked by sewing machines?

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Via one of my parents…


I give you the link to a Bald Eagle Live Nest Cam on Santa Catalina Island. There are three, the others aren’t as close. I found the Two Harbors Nest the best.

As to what I’ve accomplished thus far today?

Um… I slept in.

I updated the children’s book blog.

I… uh… ate breakfast.

And I’m thinking about a nap.

I don’t believe today is going to be as productive as I had hoped.

ETA: Well, I tried to give you the link. But I get a message that it’s an attack page when I click on it. Cutting and pasting works, however.


Weirdest thing–the link works fine from my WordPress blog, but not when I get it over on LJ.

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Here we go a-rambling (but first, a whine from our sponsor)


It’s been… a week. A long week. And it’s not done yet. Meetings, meetings, meetings–including one based on another do-over of the report card, switching it to standards based.

This time, finally, we are starting with a nearby district’s own online report card and changing it to suit our needs, rather than creating our own. Still not perfect, but kinder had theirs done in an hour and a half of discussion.

And I volunteered for this. Eesh.

Writing proceeds apace. I haven’t really looked at the novel in the past few days. I have added words to a short. It’s not to the end, yet, but it’s getting there. Slowly.

So I’m throwing a spanner into the works and going out of town for the weekend.

Yeah. That’ll show it. Darn tootin’.

(To be safe, I’m taking the laptop and my flash drive once I pry it loose from the jaws of my PC. The computer swears it can’t be disconnected at the moment since it’s in use, and I’m tempted to wipe its lying little brain. There might be writing. But late. And not online. And I know I won’t make it to the Posse’s meetup this weekend, or even get my crit to the appropriate party until mid-week.)

I also reread another unfinished tale–for those of you who remember the dim, distant past, it’s the soul cages one. Amazingly, I was impressed. Way better than I remember, and that final bit not so wandery as I thought when I set the story down and walked away.

It’ll be my second story, I believe. Although, I’m still uncertain as to just how long it’ll be at first draft. It’s 39 pages currently, so there will be lots to tighten.

Finally, the Slug returns to school tomorrow. I’ve enjoyed having her around, despite the fact that she cleaned out her room (and by cleaned out, I mean she moved everything she didn’t want downstairs. In the entry. I hope it finds its way out the front door and to Goodwill today.) I’m not sure what other surprises she has in store for us. She produces best under a tight deadline–not that it’s her best work! It’s just stuff gets done.

But I can’t wait to leave for up north, and since I’m seeing KellyM this time around, I should return geared up to write. Pages and pages!

And, before I forget, happy belated birthday Chance!

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