Deborah Kalin's Blog, page 27

ONE DAY I WILL HAVE TIME FOR EVERYTHING. EVEN YOU. ESPECIALLY YOU.

So the short story currently stands at 12,000+ words. And thus the short story is not short at all, particularly given the fact that there are great, enormous gaping holes all throughout the narrative. And thus the short story, in addition to not being short, is not actually a story (yet) either. (Two criteria, and it hasn't achieved either. Poor story is currently suffering a quite severe existential crisis.)

Normally, I'm of the "write, keep writing, don't stop 'til you get enough finish a f...

but i guess they do that here, i dunno

The lovely Mek posted this yesterday, and I can't help but post it myself for those of you who read my journal but not hers, because I love me a bit of whimsy, and this sort of stuff makes me laugh out loud:

In other news, I appear to have started yet another novel. Yes, before finishing that short story which has glomped and bulled its way into novellette territory, and before finishing the faerie novel. And before so much as starting those seven or so novels lined up in the back of my...

dear melbourne: spare me

So, about a month ago, I mocked Melbourne's attempt at a flash flood. Melbourne, it would seem, is of the revenge is best served cold school of thought. Today, after a month of plotting and planning, she struck.

Originally there was a forecast of rain for today — I believe the phrase was "chance of thunderstorms".

Thunderstorms my left butt cheek.

where was deb? oh, yes, deb was right in the CENTRE of that there apocalypse. right as this was being issued.

Tessa has the story of our fleeing the...

probably today is not that day

Those of you who keep an eye on my last.fm profile might have noticed (probably with alarm) that my latest iPod scrobble resulted in no less than 4 pages worth of Decemberists songs being added to my list of recently listened tracks.

That's a whole lot of Decemberists, and it's because the current short story is demanding it. The current short story wants all Decemberists — preferably the ones involving murder or suicide or death (which, actually, doesn't narrow the list overly much) — all...

famous last words in the last three days

How hard can it be?

Turns out that waxing your own legs takes some measure of skill — or at the very least practise. Or perhaps just patience. None of which I can claim. So I am currently sitting here, with one leg scabbed with the straggling remains of blue wax which is too thin to peel off in a strip. Wax doesn't wash off in water. I don't have any oil in the house. And guess who can't be stuffed even thinking about waxing the other leg now?

I'll just check out the jackets.

Problem being, the ...

some days, you just gotta write off

Today, in short:

A most thorough and excellent lesson in office politics. I'm not entirely sure precisely what I learnt, mainly owing to the sheer overwhelming flood of said learning, but I'm sure once I sift through it I'll have extra knowledge about how nekkid monkeys react and inter-react. (And you thought Shadow Queen was full of politics! Wait till I assimilate today's teachings!)
 Someone (who shall remain nameless) struggled to remember my name. So I pointed it out — in a most gleeful...

the real marvel? no sunburn!

Briefly first (so I cannot be accused of being entirely neglectful (only mildly so)), there is a quick interview with me as part of the Snapshots 2010 on Rachel Holkner's blog.

(One day, I will learn how to segue gracefully even when too tired to do so. This is not that day.)

Yesterday, my car being in need of a drive, I ventured to Werribee Open Range Zoo. Those of you who've followed this blog for a while may well remember last time I went to the zoo (the Melbourne Zoo), it was to be...

asking the important questions

News on the Great Nutella Question is that you are all (most of you) a little too addicted to bread and don't understand the wonder that is Nutella on a Spoon. I am willing to forgive you all, however, because I am magnanimous that way.

So, on to the next vital issue. Namely, werewolves.

Now, I have a secret1 love of werewolves. But, increasingly of late, only in written fiction. That's because I have noticed a worrying trend over the last, say, decade or so, in film depictions of the...

yes, this is how i spend my creative energy – what of it?

We interrupt our normal blog practices to briefly toot my own horn: this GoodReads review popped up in my browsing this morning, and I can't decide what I love more: the shelves she's chosen (books worth your time! kick ass heroines!) or that she's read the book twice in the space of two weeks. It's a good way to start the day. (Ladies and gentlemen, your author, quietly glowing for the rest of the week.)

But now, people, on to matters of EXTREME importance: Nutella: Bread? Or spoon?

It has...

i have since medicated with a generous application of crepes

There are various permutations featuring the following ingredients: Deb, a laptop, an umbrella, and the weather. Some permutations are rather less optimal than others, like, say, for example, today's: Deb, a laptop, no umbrella, and the entire contents of the Bass Strait pouring from the sky in the space of fifteen minutes.

Yeah, that wasn't my smartest move.