Shanna Swendson's Blog, page 197
August 8, 2013
Birthday, day two
I didn't quite manage to buy my birthday present yesterday (I seem to have made a habit of that because I did the same thing last year), but I've picked out what I want, have done the research, and will likely pick it up today during my Grand Day Out. There was another item I saw that looked good, but after doing research, I'm rethinking it. I keep saying I want an iPod or other MP3 player, mostly to plug into the stereo at home so I don't have to move the computer over there to use as a jukebox and to have for access to playlists in the car. My phone's media software doesn't seem to allow for playlists, just either listening to specific tracks in order or on shuffle. The non iPod players all seem to use different software for creating playlists, some of which won't work on a Mac. So it seems that an iPod may be the only way to go to get the playlists I want from iTunes without re-creating them, but it seems like you have to sync your iTunes with your iPod, and I don't necessarily want everything on my iTunes on a player. Is there any other device out there that's Mac compatible that allows you to pick and choose what to go on the player and that allows you to create playlists? Or am I misinformed about the way an iPod works?
Other than not managing to buy my birthday present, I had a good birthday. I ran into a friend while out shopping, then had dinner with another friend. I now have lightsaber knitting needles, so I think I'll be the hit of the "geeky knitting" panel at WorldCon. I'm continuing my birthday week with a Grand Day Out today, doing something I've been saying I wanted to do and procrastinating about for weeks.
Because I was at my parents' house over the weekend, I haven't managed to respond yet to the Burning Issue of the Day -- the revelation of the new Doctor. I was at my parents' house when the announcement was made, and we watched the announcement special together. It was rather anticlimactic when they revealed the new Doctor, and we all said "Who?" But now that I've looked at his credits, I realize I've seen him in a number of things. He seems to be the chameleon type character actor who manages to truly seem like an entirely different person in each role so you don't realize you've seen him in everything. I like that they're going with an older actor because it makes sense from where the character seemed to be. One thing I love about Eleven and the way Matt Smith plays him is that in spite of his youthful appearance, he really does seem to think of himself as old, and he's feeling his years. With that mindset, I can imagine him regenerating into someone who looks older.
I had plans to write yesterday to make up for the days I'd missed, but my agent sent me strict orders not to work on my birthday. I have to get back to work today when I get home. After all the socializing I've been doing lately, I'm looking forward to a quiet evening at home. There's nothing on TV and I'm hoping to make real progress.
Now I have a train to catch.
Other than not managing to buy my birthday present, I had a good birthday. I ran into a friend while out shopping, then had dinner with another friend. I now have lightsaber knitting needles, so I think I'll be the hit of the "geeky knitting" panel at WorldCon. I'm continuing my birthday week with a Grand Day Out today, doing something I've been saying I wanted to do and procrastinating about for weeks.
Because I was at my parents' house over the weekend, I haven't managed to respond yet to the Burning Issue of the Day -- the revelation of the new Doctor. I was at my parents' house when the announcement was made, and we watched the announcement special together. It was rather anticlimactic when they revealed the new Doctor, and we all said "Who?" But now that I've looked at his credits, I realize I've seen him in a number of things. He seems to be the chameleon type character actor who manages to truly seem like an entirely different person in each role so you don't realize you've seen him in everything. I like that they're going with an older actor because it makes sense from where the character seemed to be. One thing I love about Eleven and the way Matt Smith plays him is that in spite of his youthful appearance, he really does seem to think of himself as old, and he's feeling his years. With that mindset, I can imagine him regenerating into someone who looks older.
I had plans to write yesterday to make up for the days I'd missed, but my agent sent me strict orders not to work on my birthday. I have to get back to work today when I get home. After all the socializing I've been doing lately, I'm looking forward to a quiet evening at home. There's nothing on TV and I'm hoping to make real progress.
Now I have a train to catch.
August 7, 2013
Setting Writing Goals
Happy birthday to me! I had grand plans for a day out, followed by an evening out, but I think the big day out will be postponed until tomorrow because I might as well celebrate a birthday week and because this will allow me to work at least a little bit each day. There will be some shopping today, though, as I need milk and I might as well get a present for myself while I'm at it (I have birthday money to spend, plus I got a larger-than-expected royalty check). But first, a writing post.
I got some questions after the earlier post on writing with a day job about setting goals, so I'll address that topic today. As usual, this may or not apply to the way you work, so try out the advice and use what makes sense to you. Everyone functions a different way. There may be people who can just sit down and do the day-to-day work without any goals or measurements. I am not generally one of those people. I like to have a target to shoot for and a way to measure my progress.
Start by setting a deadline for the completed project or for that draft, even if you don't have a contracted deadline. I like to pin that deadline to an external event so that I'm not tempted to shift it -- like finishing a draft before I go on vacation so that I won't lose momentum and can let the project rest while I'm out. Other good deadline triggers might be a contest you want to enter or a conference you'll be attending where you want to be able to tell editors you have a completed manuscript.
To come up with a daily or weekly goal, count the number of days or weeks you think you'll realistically be working (and I like to subtract a few, just to give a cushion), and divide that by the number of words or pages you anticipate the project will be. I generally think of the weekly goal as my "hard" goal that I have to achieve, while the daily goal is more of a soft target. That way, if things aren't going well one day, I don't feel like I'm under so much pressure and I know I can make it up later, but I still have something I'm aiming for. I may also set little goals for each writing session -- I'm going to write 1,000 words before I get up and take a break.
When it comes to those smaller goals, either daily or for a session, you can measure yourself either by the amount of time you've worked or by how much you've produced. That depends on the phase of your work or your situation. It's hard to set productivity goals for revisions because the idea is to make it as good as possible, not to just get through it all, and some pages you can speed through while other pages may take a lot of work. A time goal is also good when you have a hard stop on a writing session, like if you're writing during your lunch hour at work. You have to stop when the time comes, whether or not you've written a certain number of words, so it doesn't make sense to set a production goal.
It helps to track your progress, and if you're deducting writing expenses from your taxes while still taking a loss on your writing business, it's good to have something to show the IRS to prove that you're seriously pursuing this. You can chart your daily progress in time, word count or page count by just writing it down, marking it on a calendar or making a chart. It's also good to have a system of rewards in place. Have something big that you want for when you meet your final goal and finish the book and a few other little things along the way for milestones. When I set weekly goals, I allow myself to take off early for the week once I've met that goal. If there's something I want to do on Friday afternoon, that's a lot of motivation for Monday through Thursday. On a daily basis, I let myself take off and relax once I've met my daily goal (unless I'm on a roll and want to keep working). I take breaks and do something fun throughout the day when I've met a goal for each writing session. When I've been really struggling, I've used the method of counting out candies or grapes and eating one when I finish each page. I've even done silly things like putting a gold star on the calendar when I meet the daily goal. Sometimes I resort to quasi punishments, like not letting myself do something I want to do until I've met my goal for the day.
I generally find that I don't need all these tricks at the beginning of a book, when I'm still enthusiastic about the story, or at the end, when I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but in the middle it sometimes takes every trick in the book to keep myself engaged.
I got some questions after the earlier post on writing with a day job about setting goals, so I'll address that topic today. As usual, this may or not apply to the way you work, so try out the advice and use what makes sense to you. Everyone functions a different way. There may be people who can just sit down and do the day-to-day work without any goals or measurements. I am not generally one of those people. I like to have a target to shoot for and a way to measure my progress.
Start by setting a deadline for the completed project or for that draft, even if you don't have a contracted deadline. I like to pin that deadline to an external event so that I'm not tempted to shift it -- like finishing a draft before I go on vacation so that I won't lose momentum and can let the project rest while I'm out. Other good deadline triggers might be a contest you want to enter or a conference you'll be attending where you want to be able to tell editors you have a completed manuscript.
To come up with a daily or weekly goal, count the number of days or weeks you think you'll realistically be working (and I like to subtract a few, just to give a cushion), and divide that by the number of words or pages you anticipate the project will be. I generally think of the weekly goal as my "hard" goal that I have to achieve, while the daily goal is more of a soft target. That way, if things aren't going well one day, I don't feel like I'm under so much pressure and I know I can make it up later, but I still have something I'm aiming for. I may also set little goals for each writing session -- I'm going to write 1,000 words before I get up and take a break.
When it comes to those smaller goals, either daily or for a session, you can measure yourself either by the amount of time you've worked or by how much you've produced. That depends on the phase of your work or your situation. It's hard to set productivity goals for revisions because the idea is to make it as good as possible, not to just get through it all, and some pages you can speed through while other pages may take a lot of work. A time goal is also good when you have a hard stop on a writing session, like if you're writing during your lunch hour at work. You have to stop when the time comes, whether or not you've written a certain number of words, so it doesn't make sense to set a production goal.
It helps to track your progress, and if you're deducting writing expenses from your taxes while still taking a loss on your writing business, it's good to have something to show the IRS to prove that you're seriously pursuing this. You can chart your daily progress in time, word count or page count by just writing it down, marking it on a calendar or making a chart. It's also good to have a system of rewards in place. Have something big that you want for when you meet your final goal and finish the book and a few other little things along the way for milestones. When I set weekly goals, I allow myself to take off early for the week once I've met that goal. If there's something I want to do on Friday afternoon, that's a lot of motivation for Monday through Thursday. On a daily basis, I let myself take off and relax once I've met my daily goal (unless I'm on a roll and want to keep working). I take breaks and do something fun throughout the day when I've met a goal for each writing session. When I've been really struggling, I've used the method of counting out candies or grapes and eating one when I finish each page. I've even done silly things like putting a gold star on the calendar when I meet the daily goal. Sometimes I resort to quasi punishments, like not letting myself do something I want to do until I've met my goal for the day.
I generally find that I don't need all these tricks at the beginning of a book, when I'm still enthusiastic about the story, or at the end, when I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but in the middle it sometimes takes every trick in the book to keep myself engaged.
August 2, 2013
Rising to the Occasion
I'm afraid I'm now down on my word count because I only managed about 300 words yesterday, I was so drained and distracted after that funeral. My roommate my freshman year in college was a voice major, and I used to roll my eyes when she'd go on about how much more difficult that was than playing an instrument because your body was your instrument, so anything affecting you would affect your performance. Now, though, I kind of understand because my writing tools are my mind and my emotions, and when those are out of whack, even if I push myself to keep going, the outcome isn't good. As I learned when I soldiered on through the second half of the first draft of Damsel Under Stress after the death of a close friend. It took every trick I could think of to make myself write that book. Then my agent read the draft and was like, "Um, maybe you should re-think some of this." When I re-read it, it was utterly foreign to me. I had no idea where most of that came from and hadn't realized what a bad place I was in at that time until I was out of it and looking back. I had to just about completely rewrite the book. I think I can still see the dividing line of before/after in that book. There's a tonal shift I never managed to erase.
As a result, I didn't force myself to write when I realized what was happening yesterday. It turned out that I had a case of mistaken identity for one of the kids whose dad died. The boy I've worked with wasn't the son in this family, after all. He has the same first name, he took the girl's place helping with choir, and I could swear I've seen her playing "big sister" to him and him being around this mom, but that's the problem with adults who take the "it takes a village to raise a child" thing seriously and kids who run in a pack and act like one big family. It makes it hard to figure out who goes with whom. The boy in this family was actually older (late teens, I think), and I don't think I know him.
I realized during this funeral that not only does this town have an alarming death rate among teens, but it also has a relatively alarming death rate among men young enough to still have children at home. I've sung for way too many of those funerals, but I've noticed something interesting in doing so. It's been a way to see "coming of age" in action. You see the moment when a child becomes an adult, sometimes far earlier than any child should have to. In this case, the mom seemed utterly shellshocked. I can only imagine what she's going through, with not only grief but logistical and financial issues to deal with and then being on her own with three kids. But the older kids seemed to recognize this, and instead of them seeking comfort from their mom, they were the ones looking after her. The oldest boy seemed to have already stepped into the "dad" role and was not only looking after his mom but was comforting the younger siblings and holding them all together. And then he gave the eulogy, very calmly and eloquently. It was like someone had flipped the boy/man switch. You hate to see that happen to a real person because it means going through something awful (though I love seeing it happen to fictional characters), but at the same time it's a thing of beauty when someone has the strength to rise to an occasion like that. I generally try to avoid getting too emotional at these things because up in the choir loft I can be seen by everyone, and since I usually didn't actually know the deceased, me crying makes me feel like I'm being a drama queen and making it about me. This time, though, I was facing the family, and when that little girl's face crumpled up with tears, I lost it completely (okay, so she's going into high school, but I've known her since she was 11, so she's still a little girl to me).
I stopped by Sprouts on the way home because I did need to get some produce but also because that's where the dark chocolate-covered raisins live, and that was kind of urgent. Then I gave up on focusing and writing and spent the evening watching my recording of Blast Vegas, the movie they showed the week after the Sharknado frenzy. And, you know, I liked it better than Sharknado. Sharknado was just plain an all-around bad movie. No matter how high the production values, no matter how good the cast, it would be what it was. This one was borderline decent. With a couple more revision passes on the script and a production budget bigger than whatever the producer found between his sofa cushions, it might have made a "real" movie.
Basically, it's spring break, and all the frat boys and sorority girls are hitting Vegas for some serious party time. Among the frat boys is Malcolm in the Middle, the nerdy guy who only got into the fraternity because his dad used to be president and who was only included in this trip to play designated driver. Among the sorority girls is a Felicia Day clone Manic Nerdy Dream Girl, the cousin of one of the sorority girls who's only on the trip because sorority girl's dad wouldn't pay for the trip unless the cousin went along. The nerds meet and are smitten, and there's drunken debauchery among the others that has me asking the TV for the disaster to hit, already. Apparently the frat boys hear me because they come across an exhibit of artifacts at their Egyptian-themed casino and drunkenly think it would be a fun prank to take the sword from the display. That triggers an ancient Pharaoh's curse so that the city comes under attack by a giant sandstorm with a sand tornado taking the shape of a cobra (Cobrado? They may have missed an opportunity with the title here) that turns Vegas into a postapocalyptic wasteland and targets all the annoying people for death. Already, this has the makings for Best Movie Ever. Fortunately, Manic Nerdy Dream Girl is into Egyptian mythology (as nerd girls tend to be) and knows the legend of the sword and what to do, and just as fortunately, the casino tendency to collect stuff to give themselves cultural legitimacy means that everything they need to break the curse can be found in Vegas. So Manic Nerdy Dream Girl and Malcolm in the Middle end up on a casino scavenger hunt throughout Vegas, in this middle of Cobrado, guided by veteran lounge singer Barry Bostwick and a few frat boys and sorority girls (redshirts/cannon fodder) to get the stuff they need to break the curse and save what's left of the city.
And, you know, they probably had a lot more fun in Vegas than I ever have. I'll trade you the giant cobra sandstorm for a week working Comdex, across the aisle from the Motorola booth, whose gimmick was "The Device Girls" (it was 1999 and the Spice Girls were still a thing) who sang every half hour about Motorola products to the tune of something that sounded enough like the Spice Girls that you knew what it was supposed to be, but probably different enough to avoid paying royalties. Then after a day on my feet, running around after reporters, trying to grab people to do interviews, and making sure that someone in authority knew that Bill Gates was in our booth playing with our stuff, all while listening to the Device Girls tell us what gizmos they really, really wanted, I got to wait in line an hour to get on a shuttle bus back to my hotel. Fighting off the giant cobra sandstorm would have been a welcome break, especially if it targeted the Device Girls (actually, when they were off-duty they turned out to be very nice girls who were even sicker of that routine than we were).
I think that movie put me back on kilter, so I hope to make up some of the productivity loss today, and if I write even a bit on the days I wasn't planning to write, I'll be back on track. Tonight, though, I'm going out for a friend's birthday and eating German food. Then I'm taking a few days off, so I may not resume blogging until next Wednesday.
As a result, I didn't force myself to write when I realized what was happening yesterday. It turned out that I had a case of mistaken identity for one of the kids whose dad died. The boy I've worked with wasn't the son in this family, after all. He has the same first name, he took the girl's place helping with choir, and I could swear I've seen her playing "big sister" to him and him being around this mom, but that's the problem with adults who take the "it takes a village to raise a child" thing seriously and kids who run in a pack and act like one big family. It makes it hard to figure out who goes with whom. The boy in this family was actually older (late teens, I think), and I don't think I know him.
I realized during this funeral that not only does this town have an alarming death rate among teens, but it also has a relatively alarming death rate among men young enough to still have children at home. I've sung for way too many of those funerals, but I've noticed something interesting in doing so. It's been a way to see "coming of age" in action. You see the moment when a child becomes an adult, sometimes far earlier than any child should have to. In this case, the mom seemed utterly shellshocked. I can only imagine what she's going through, with not only grief but logistical and financial issues to deal with and then being on her own with three kids. But the older kids seemed to recognize this, and instead of them seeking comfort from their mom, they were the ones looking after her. The oldest boy seemed to have already stepped into the "dad" role and was not only looking after his mom but was comforting the younger siblings and holding them all together. And then he gave the eulogy, very calmly and eloquently. It was like someone had flipped the boy/man switch. You hate to see that happen to a real person because it means going through something awful (though I love seeing it happen to fictional characters), but at the same time it's a thing of beauty when someone has the strength to rise to an occasion like that. I generally try to avoid getting too emotional at these things because up in the choir loft I can be seen by everyone, and since I usually didn't actually know the deceased, me crying makes me feel like I'm being a drama queen and making it about me. This time, though, I was facing the family, and when that little girl's face crumpled up with tears, I lost it completely (okay, so she's going into high school, but I've known her since she was 11, so she's still a little girl to me).
I stopped by Sprouts on the way home because I did need to get some produce but also because that's where the dark chocolate-covered raisins live, and that was kind of urgent. Then I gave up on focusing and writing and spent the evening watching my recording of Blast Vegas, the movie they showed the week after the Sharknado frenzy. And, you know, I liked it better than Sharknado. Sharknado was just plain an all-around bad movie. No matter how high the production values, no matter how good the cast, it would be what it was. This one was borderline decent. With a couple more revision passes on the script and a production budget bigger than whatever the producer found between his sofa cushions, it might have made a "real" movie.
Basically, it's spring break, and all the frat boys and sorority girls are hitting Vegas for some serious party time. Among the frat boys is Malcolm in the Middle, the nerdy guy who only got into the fraternity because his dad used to be president and who was only included in this trip to play designated driver. Among the sorority girls is a Felicia Day clone Manic Nerdy Dream Girl, the cousin of one of the sorority girls who's only on the trip because sorority girl's dad wouldn't pay for the trip unless the cousin went along. The nerds meet and are smitten, and there's drunken debauchery among the others that has me asking the TV for the disaster to hit, already. Apparently the frat boys hear me because they come across an exhibit of artifacts at their Egyptian-themed casino and drunkenly think it would be a fun prank to take the sword from the display. That triggers an ancient Pharaoh's curse so that the city comes under attack by a giant sandstorm with a sand tornado taking the shape of a cobra (Cobrado? They may have missed an opportunity with the title here) that turns Vegas into a postapocalyptic wasteland and targets all the annoying people for death. Already, this has the makings for Best Movie Ever. Fortunately, Manic Nerdy Dream Girl is into Egyptian mythology (as nerd girls tend to be) and knows the legend of the sword and what to do, and just as fortunately, the casino tendency to collect stuff to give themselves cultural legitimacy means that everything they need to break the curse can be found in Vegas. So Manic Nerdy Dream Girl and Malcolm in the Middle end up on a casino scavenger hunt throughout Vegas, in this middle of Cobrado, guided by veteran lounge singer Barry Bostwick and a few frat boys and sorority girls (redshirts/cannon fodder) to get the stuff they need to break the curse and save what's left of the city.
And, you know, they probably had a lot more fun in Vegas than I ever have. I'll trade you the giant cobra sandstorm for a week working Comdex, across the aisle from the Motorola booth, whose gimmick was "The Device Girls" (it was 1999 and the Spice Girls were still a thing) who sang every half hour about Motorola products to the tune of something that sounded enough like the Spice Girls that you knew what it was supposed to be, but probably different enough to avoid paying royalties. Then after a day on my feet, running around after reporters, trying to grab people to do interviews, and making sure that someone in authority knew that Bill Gates was in our booth playing with our stuff, all while listening to the Device Girls tell us what gizmos they really, really wanted, I got to wait in line an hour to get on a shuttle bus back to my hotel. Fighting off the giant cobra sandstorm would have been a welcome break, especially if it targeted the Device Girls (actually, when they were off-duty they turned out to be very nice girls who were even sicker of that routine than we were).
I think that movie put me back on kilter, so I hope to make up some of the productivity loss today, and if I write even a bit on the days I wasn't planning to write, I'll be back on track. Tonight, though, I'm going out for a friend's birthday and eating German food. Then I'm taking a few days off, so I may not resume blogging until next Wednesday.
August 1, 2013
Food Ennui
Getting to my target word count yesterday was a struggle because it took me a couple of hours to get the scene set enough in my mind to write it. It was one of those pivotal scenes that was big enough I was sure it would all come together when it happened, only I got there and knew the stuff that needed to happen, but I had no idea how it would actually happen. But once I did figure it out, it came together pretty quickly, even if I did have to spend the whole evening writing after spending the afternoon brainstorming/procrastinating.
Probably because of the thinking/writing issue, I seem to have hit bottom with the food ennui. Yesterday's lunch: tuna on Ritz crackers with a bowl of grapes on the side. Yesterday's dinner: peanut butter on graham crackers with a bowl of cherries on the side. The one time I can think of when it was worse was when I had a day job, got home from work, didn't feel like cooking and ended up eating raw broccoli (I needed nutrients) and saltine crackers while sitting on the kitchen floor.
Some of it had to do with lack of supplies. Yeah, I went to the grocery store twice last week, but most of that was replenishing staples. My grocery store gives you points for purchases, and if you get to a certain level in a month, you get 10 cents a gallon off on gas the next month. As I neared the end of the month, I was very close, and I have a road trip coming up, so I figured I might as well do a pantry stock of non-perishables (canned goods, pasta, spices, flavorings) and semi-perishables that last a long time, especially if they haven't been opened (crackers, cereal). Then there were the cherries, which were on sale (one thing I love about summer -- fresh cherries are nothing like anything allegedly "cherry-flavored"). And then after all that effort I did the math and realized that if I coast into the gas station on fumes and completely fill the tank, I've saved a whopping $1.50, maybe. But I didn't buy anything I didn't need, so I guess I'm a little ahead. Yay.
That meant I had a lot of ingredients, but was missing crucial elements needed to turn those ingredients into food. My fresh produce inventory consisted of the cherries, a few strawberries, an onion, a few limp carrots, a zucchini and some celery that may or may not be plotting revolution. In the basket on my counter I found a sweet potato I'd forgotten about that had not only sprouted, but had grown vines and leaves, only since it hasn't had much light, the vines and leaves have this weird translucent pink-tinged pallor. It looks like something they'd have had to contend with in herbology class at Hogwarts. I think I'm going to keep it, name it and see if it develops sentience.
So I think the sweet potato has to be removed from the inventory, as I'm not sure it still qualifies as a sweet potato and may possibly have evolved into a different life form. I could have made one of my favorite pasta dishes with the onion, zucchini and carrot, but that would have required chopping and cooking. I even had frozen entrees, just for this sort of occasion, but I didn't want them, either. I didn't even heat up the last bit of peach cobbler, so it seems I really didn't want food. Fortunately, I now have meals planned for the next few days, made easier by going out for at least one meal. Then I'll be visiting my parents, and then it will be my birthday, for more going out, so I'll barely have to cook for a while.
Tonight I suspect I'll need comfort food. I have to sing for a funeral this afternoon, and it will be a tough one. I didn't know the deceased, but he's the dad of two of my kids -- not the kindergarteners, but my youth helpers. The oldest daughter in the family was my helper the first two years I did choir, and then the middle boy was the pre-school helper last year, but since we often combined or switched classes, I worked with him a lot. Losing a parent at any age is tough, but they're still young enough to need him and old enough to know what they've lost. I don't even know how to talk to a kid in that situation, and so I sing. I had one of those "you know you're an adult when" moments when thinking that with one parent gone and one parent probably having difficulty coping, herself (this was a very sudden and unexpected death), the other adults in these kids' lives will need to step in to pick up the slack, and then I realized that includes me.
Sometimes I feel a little guilty that the work I do with kids is in this fairly isolated, privileged community rather than in some place where the help is really needed. But I am a little isolated and I hate driving, and kids everywhere need help. The teen death rate in this town is proof that privilege doesn't make anyone immune to problems (mostly accidents, but a fair number of suicides and drug overdoses, and one killed by her mother in a murder/suicide when the family finances hit bottom and the mother couldn't keep up the facade). Not everyone in the privileged community is actually privileged, and I know from experience how tough it is to be the non-rich kid in a snooty community. And, the way society works, the privileged kids are the ones who tend to end up in power positions, so anything that can be done to keep them from turning out to be jerks will end up benefiting society as a whole. Just exposing them to different perspectives and providing an alternative to peer pressure (my job and semi-fame put me into a different category from other "grown ups" so sometimes they'll listen to me instead of rolling their eyes) may help. Things like this current situation remind me of the role any adult could (and maybe should) play in their own community.
Now to go do some chopping and slicing so I won't have to deal with it when I get home this evening and I can have real food for dinner.
Probably because of the thinking/writing issue, I seem to have hit bottom with the food ennui. Yesterday's lunch: tuna on Ritz crackers with a bowl of grapes on the side. Yesterday's dinner: peanut butter on graham crackers with a bowl of cherries on the side. The one time I can think of when it was worse was when I had a day job, got home from work, didn't feel like cooking and ended up eating raw broccoli (I needed nutrients) and saltine crackers while sitting on the kitchen floor.
Some of it had to do with lack of supplies. Yeah, I went to the grocery store twice last week, but most of that was replenishing staples. My grocery store gives you points for purchases, and if you get to a certain level in a month, you get 10 cents a gallon off on gas the next month. As I neared the end of the month, I was very close, and I have a road trip coming up, so I figured I might as well do a pantry stock of non-perishables (canned goods, pasta, spices, flavorings) and semi-perishables that last a long time, especially if they haven't been opened (crackers, cereal). Then there were the cherries, which were on sale (one thing I love about summer -- fresh cherries are nothing like anything allegedly "cherry-flavored"). And then after all that effort I did the math and realized that if I coast into the gas station on fumes and completely fill the tank, I've saved a whopping $1.50, maybe. But I didn't buy anything I didn't need, so I guess I'm a little ahead. Yay.
That meant I had a lot of ingredients, but was missing crucial elements needed to turn those ingredients into food. My fresh produce inventory consisted of the cherries, a few strawberries, an onion, a few limp carrots, a zucchini and some celery that may or may not be plotting revolution. In the basket on my counter I found a sweet potato I'd forgotten about that had not only sprouted, but had grown vines and leaves, only since it hasn't had much light, the vines and leaves have this weird translucent pink-tinged pallor. It looks like something they'd have had to contend with in herbology class at Hogwarts. I think I'm going to keep it, name it and see if it develops sentience.
So I think the sweet potato has to be removed from the inventory, as I'm not sure it still qualifies as a sweet potato and may possibly have evolved into a different life form. I could have made one of my favorite pasta dishes with the onion, zucchini and carrot, but that would have required chopping and cooking. I even had frozen entrees, just for this sort of occasion, but I didn't want them, either. I didn't even heat up the last bit of peach cobbler, so it seems I really didn't want food. Fortunately, I now have meals planned for the next few days, made easier by going out for at least one meal. Then I'll be visiting my parents, and then it will be my birthday, for more going out, so I'll barely have to cook for a while.
Tonight I suspect I'll need comfort food. I have to sing for a funeral this afternoon, and it will be a tough one. I didn't know the deceased, but he's the dad of two of my kids -- not the kindergarteners, but my youth helpers. The oldest daughter in the family was my helper the first two years I did choir, and then the middle boy was the pre-school helper last year, but since we often combined or switched classes, I worked with him a lot. Losing a parent at any age is tough, but they're still young enough to need him and old enough to know what they've lost. I don't even know how to talk to a kid in that situation, and so I sing. I had one of those "you know you're an adult when" moments when thinking that with one parent gone and one parent probably having difficulty coping, herself (this was a very sudden and unexpected death), the other adults in these kids' lives will need to step in to pick up the slack, and then I realized that includes me.
Sometimes I feel a little guilty that the work I do with kids is in this fairly isolated, privileged community rather than in some place where the help is really needed. But I am a little isolated and I hate driving, and kids everywhere need help. The teen death rate in this town is proof that privilege doesn't make anyone immune to problems (mostly accidents, but a fair number of suicides and drug overdoses, and one killed by her mother in a murder/suicide when the family finances hit bottom and the mother couldn't keep up the facade). Not everyone in the privileged community is actually privileged, and I know from experience how tough it is to be the non-rich kid in a snooty community. And, the way society works, the privileged kids are the ones who tend to end up in power positions, so anything that can be done to keep them from turning out to be jerks will end up benefiting society as a whole. Just exposing them to different perspectives and providing an alternative to peer pressure (my job and semi-fame put me into a different category from other "grown ups" so sometimes they'll listen to me instead of rolling their eyes) may help. Things like this current situation remind me of the role any adult could (and maybe should) play in their own community.
Now to go do some chopping and slicing so I won't have to deal with it when I get home this evening and I can have real food for dinner.
July 31, 2013
My Kingdom for a Bookcase!
I really got back in the groove yesterday, writing about 4,000 words. That wasn't quite enough to significantly move the needle on what I need to write each day (about two fewer words, yay!) to reach my goal, but a few days like that could make a difference. The wonderful thing is that I'm past the part of the book that was unexpected and into the part that I've actually sort of planned, though I suspect it will go differently from what I planned due to the unplanned stuff. The part that I had thought was "crossing the first threshold" into the story world is turning out to be the "approach to the inmost cave" part, going into the really mystical part of the special story world. The fun thing about all the unplanned stuff is that it's knitting together all the plot threads so that they're actually all part of the same thing. I thought I had three separate and parallel plots going on, but now it's all different aspects of the same plot.
I'm also about a quarter of the way through the book. I'd hoped to have a draft done around this time, but it was difficult to concentrate during the construction and waiting for construction. Now, though, I think I'm on track. Maybe the delay helped my subconscious figure it all out.
Meanwhile, the office organizing continues to creep in this petty pace (bonus points if you catch the slightly paraphrased reference). I've managed to sort through all the stuff currently residing on the loft that has a place to be put away. There's still some stuff out there that will have to wait until I clear out a few other things and create a place. That's why this is taking so long. It's a vicious cycle of not being able to put away stuff until there's a place to put it, but getting a place to put it requires sorting through and rearranging other things. I also have a few boxes of books to sort through and make the final call on donating to the library book sale or taking to a used bookstore to try to re-sell. It's very hard for me to pull the trigger on getting rid of books because I inevitably find something in the stack that I decide I don't want to get rid of, after all, and that makes me question the other things I want to get rid of. Last summer, I read a book that made me want to read more like that, and it turned out I had one by that author in my "donate to library" box, so I pulled it out and re-read it and decided I didn't want to get rid of it. The book I'm reading at the moment came out of my "donate to library" box. It had gone in there when I decided the author was kind of a jerk. Then I found a newer book by that author at the library, devoured it, ran back and got her other newer book, devoured it, then wondered if I'd misjudged her earlier, so I dug out the old book. I think she's gone through a period of personal growth, or something, because in this older book, yeah, she's a jerk. I don't like her nearly as much in the older stuff, so I may still get rid of this book when I'm done reading it. And no, I'm not going to say who she is because she strikes me as the sort of person who has Google alerts set up on her name and who might start a crazy vendetta against someone who dares call her a jerk (and also, we have mutual acquaintances, so she could find me).
Which is why I never seem to get rid of books. The process of purging books leaves me with doubts and second thoughts, and I end up re-reading a lot of stuff to figure out if I really want to get rid of it. But I'm totally out of bookshelf space. I don't have room for the books I KNOW I want to keep, and I'm just about out of wall space to put bookshelves because my house doesn't have a lot of walls. The interior is mostly an open floorplan and the exterior is mostly windows. Almost every real wall in the house already has a bookcase on it, and I even have an open etagere type bookcase in front of one window and a short bookcase under the stairs. When I'm done organizing the office and am ready to move to the next phase, possibly redecorating/refurnishing it, I may replace some of the bookcases with larger ones, or I may have to go all library in the open space, with bookcases lined up in the middle of the room instead of just around the walls.
But I can sort of see the end of the tunnel in this project, as I think the hard work is mostly done. I've set up the systems, and it's just a case of sorting through stuff to either put it away properly or trash it. I've found a number of things I thought were lost, including some CDs that seem to have fallen into random boxes. It's been fun to be able to just reach into the filing cabinet and find things instantly instead of searching my desk for hours.
Meanwhile, I need to do some cookbook reading or recipe searching before I go on my next grocery shopping trip because I've discovered that I'm in a bad food rut. I keep eating the same things, and I'm tired of them, but I can't think of anything else to do with the ingredients I have available. Much of that is due to summer because the things I like to cook are more cold-weather foods. I need to take more advantage of the fresh vegetables and fruits currently available, but I need to find something new to do with them. When you find yourself staring into the pantry and saying, "Well, there's always peanut butter on graham crackers," you need to do something. Today I may shake things up and have tuna on Ritz crackers for lunch.
I'm also about a quarter of the way through the book. I'd hoped to have a draft done around this time, but it was difficult to concentrate during the construction and waiting for construction. Now, though, I think I'm on track. Maybe the delay helped my subconscious figure it all out.
Meanwhile, the office organizing continues to creep in this petty pace (bonus points if you catch the slightly paraphrased reference). I've managed to sort through all the stuff currently residing on the loft that has a place to be put away. There's still some stuff out there that will have to wait until I clear out a few other things and create a place. That's why this is taking so long. It's a vicious cycle of not being able to put away stuff until there's a place to put it, but getting a place to put it requires sorting through and rearranging other things. I also have a few boxes of books to sort through and make the final call on donating to the library book sale or taking to a used bookstore to try to re-sell. It's very hard for me to pull the trigger on getting rid of books because I inevitably find something in the stack that I decide I don't want to get rid of, after all, and that makes me question the other things I want to get rid of. Last summer, I read a book that made me want to read more like that, and it turned out I had one by that author in my "donate to library" box, so I pulled it out and re-read it and decided I didn't want to get rid of it. The book I'm reading at the moment came out of my "donate to library" box. It had gone in there when I decided the author was kind of a jerk. Then I found a newer book by that author at the library, devoured it, ran back and got her other newer book, devoured it, then wondered if I'd misjudged her earlier, so I dug out the old book. I think she's gone through a period of personal growth, or something, because in this older book, yeah, she's a jerk. I don't like her nearly as much in the older stuff, so I may still get rid of this book when I'm done reading it. And no, I'm not going to say who she is because she strikes me as the sort of person who has Google alerts set up on her name and who might start a crazy vendetta against someone who dares call her a jerk (and also, we have mutual acquaintances, so she could find me).
Which is why I never seem to get rid of books. The process of purging books leaves me with doubts and second thoughts, and I end up re-reading a lot of stuff to figure out if I really want to get rid of it. But I'm totally out of bookshelf space. I don't have room for the books I KNOW I want to keep, and I'm just about out of wall space to put bookshelves because my house doesn't have a lot of walls. The interior is mostly an open floorplan and the exterior is mostly windows. Almost every real wall in the house already has a bookcase on it, and I even have an open etagere type bookcase in front of one window and a short bookcase under the stairs. When I'm done organizing the office and am ready to move to the next phase, possibly redecorating/refurnishing it, I may replace some of the bookcases with larger ones, or I may have to go all library in the open space, with bookcases lined up in the middle of the room instead of just around the walls.
But I can sort of see the end of the tunnel in this project, as I think the hard work is mostly done. I've set up the systems, and it's just a case of sorting through stuff to either put it away properly or trash it. I've found a number of things I thought were lost, including some CDs that seem to have fallen into random boxes. It's been fun to be able to just reach into the filing cabinet and find things instantly instead of searching my desk for hours.
Meanwhile, I need to do some cookbook reading or recipe searching before I go on my next grocery shopping trip because I've discovered that I'm in a bad food rut. I keep eating the same things, and I'm tired of them, but I can't think of anything else to do with the ingredients I have available. Much of that is due to summer because the things I like to cook are more cold-weather foods. I need to take more advantage of the fresh vegetables and fruits currently available, but I need to find something new to do with them. When you find yourself staring into the pantry and saying, "Well, there's always peanut butter on graham crackers," you need to do something. Today I may shake things up and have tuna on Ritz crackers for lunch.
July 30, 2013
Raiders of the Lost Story
My Day of Getting Stuff Done (Leaving the House Edition) was mostly successful. There was just one errand I didn't get taken care of. The main thing is that I have a new watch battery, which means I can wear my good watch again. This has been an epic case of procrastination. The last time I replaced watch batteries, I had all my watches done at the same time (probably because of procrastination -- when one died, I just started using another, until they were all dead and I was forced to take action). That meant that they all died around the same time. Because the place I knew of to get watch batteries replaced is rather out of my way and in a mall that it's best to avoid these days, and because I was really busy at the time, I bought a cheap watch at Target (which was less expensive than replacing a watch battery, actually). The cheap Target watch died last week, so I was forced to take action. I found a jewelry store in the good mall that does watch batteries, so I got the good watch I haven't worn in years fixed. I'd brought the other watches with me, then it occurred to me that I was setting myself up for the same problem in the future, so I decided to stagger my battery replacement over time. That way I hope every watch won't die at the same time. (I only have multiple watches because I had one I'd been using for years, then one year at Christmas I got two watches as gifts, and then there was the "I'm too lazy to replace a battery" watch. It's not like I'm one of those "I have a different watch for each outfit" people.) Now that the good watch is taken care of, I may try different places with the other watches to see if I can find a good match of price and competence.
I forgot to mention that there was also a Weekend of Getting Stuff Done, Housework Edition. I mopped the kitchen and entryway floors, did laundry and organized a couple of dresser drawers. It's amazing how much more space I had when I got rid of all socks that were either missing a partner or had a hole in the toe. I guess I was hanging onto the widowed socks because I was holding out hope that their mates might return someday. I need to face the truth that their mates are probably deadbeat spouses who've flown the coop, never to return.
In addition to Getting Stuff Done Outside the House yesterday, I got back into writing at a serious level, with nearly 3,000 words. I feel like I'm back on track. I've calculated that I'll need to write about 3,900 words a day on the days I have available to work (I'm trying to be realistic) in order to finish a first draft before WorldCon. The plan is to finish before the weekend before the con so I can spend that time getting ready and relaxing to build up energy. There's something about having a firm number to shoot for that's very motivating. I imagine my daily target will start creeping downward if I'm very good this week and get on the ball.
Meanwhile, I'm still gradually sorting my way through my office mess. Yesterday, I found some legal pads that I'd used to take notes at conferences. Some of the notes were worth archiving. Some were of the "duh" variety. And then buried in those pages were two pages of a handwritten story that I don't remember writing (though it is my handwriting). I suspect it was an exercise in some conference workshop where you're supposed to try out whatever technique they've just been teaching and they give you fifteen minutes to write something. I hate that sort of thing because the moment you put that kind of pressure on me, I freeze. Normally, I just write to-do lists or grocery lists in that time so I look like I'm writing, and then let other people volunteer to read what they've written (because there are always eager volunteers). I don't know if I was bored that day or if whatever assignment actually inspired me. I don't remember what the assignment was. It may have had something to do with contrast, coming up with a situation that seemed the opposite of what you'd expect for a character because my pages were about a witch who was afraid of flying. She'd had a nasty broomstick accident and still had her arm in a sling, so she was forced to fly commercial, and although she'd been fine with zipping around in the sky on a broom, an airliner terrified her. I have no idea where I was going with it, but I love the pages that exist enough that now I'm wondering where I can take the story. I don't know if there's a novel in there, but maybe I could try a short story. After I finish this book, of course.
And after reading all the Hugo nominees (and the Nebula nominees earlier this year), I'm not entirely sure that writing a truly brilliant story is the key to being nominated. There were some really good works in the mix, but there were also a few that had me thinking that someone had a lot of very devoted friends or some kind of Internet fame to get them on the ballot. So my plan is to write a story, find a place to have it published, and then enlist a Legion of Minions (or create a Cult of Online Personality) to nominate it for an award. I don't care so much about the award itself, but awards are a way to get visibility and credibility.
I forgot to mention that there was also a Weekend of Getting Stuff Done, Housework Edition. I mopped the kitchen and entryway floors, did laundry and organized a couple of dresser drawers. It's amazing how much more space I had when I got rid of all socks that were either missing a partner or had a hole in the toe. I guess I was hanging onto the widowed socks because I was holding out hope that their mates might return someday. I need to face the truth that their mates are probably deadbeat spouses who've flown the coop, never to return.
In addition to Getting Stuff Done Outside the House yesterday, I got back into writing at a serious level, with nearly 3,000 words. I feel like I'm back on track. I've calculated that I'll need to write about 3,900 words a day on the days I have available to work (I'm trying to be realistic) in order to finish a first draft before WorldCon. The plan is to finish before the weekend before the con so I can spend that time getting ready and relaxing to build up energy. There's something about having a firm number to shoot for that's very motivating. I imagine my daily target will start creeping downward if I'm very good this week and get on the ball.
Meanwhile, I'm still gradually sorting my way through my office mess. Yesterday, I found some legal pads that I'd used to take notes at conferences. Some of the notes were worth archiving. Some were of the "duh" variety. And then buried in those pages were two pages of a handwritten story that I don't remember writing (though it is my handwriting). I suspect it was an exercise in some conference workshop where you're supposed to try out whatever technique they've just been teaching and they give you fifteen minutes to write something. I hate that sort of thing because the moment you put that kind of pressure on me, I freeze. Normally, I just write to-do lists or grocery lists in that time so I look like I'm writing, and then let other people volunteer to read what they've written (because there are always eager volunteers). I don't know if I was bored that day or if whatever assignment actually inspired me. I don't remember what the assignment was. It may have had something to do with contrast, coming up with a situation that seemed the opposite of what you'd expect for a character because my pages were about a witch who was afraid of flying. She'd had a nasty broomstick accident and still had her arm in a sling, so she was forced to fly commercial, and although she'd been fine with zipping around in the sky on a broom, an airliner terrified her. I have no idea where I was going with it, but I love the pages that exist enough that now I'm wondering where I can take the story. I don't know if there's a novel in there, but maybe I could try a short story. After I finish this book, of course.
And after reading all the Hugo nominees (and the Nebula nominees earlier this year), I'm not entirely sure that writing a truly brilliant story is the key to being nominated. There were some really good works in the mix, but there were also a few that had me thinking that someone had a lot of very devoted friends or some kind of Internet fame to get them on the ballot. So my plan is to write a story, find a place to have it published, and then enlist a Legion of Minions (or create a Cult of Online Personality) to nominate it for an award. I don't care so much about the award itself, but awards are a way to get visibility and credibility.
July 29, 2013
Vicarious Summer
We had a relatively cool (for Texas in July) weekend, which meant we got to take advantage of a local amenity. The next town over from me does fireworks at the lake on Friday nights during the summer. It's sponsored by a lakeside resort that has viewing parties at its bar, but you can see the fireworks even better from the lakeside city parks. Friday night was the perfect weather for sitting out by the lake, watching the boats until it got dark and then watching the fireworks. The show's a little shorter and less elaborate than July 4, but it's fireworks without the huge crowds you get on July 4.
And that made me realize why I get a particular craving for British (and it must be British) chick lit during the summers. I like vicariously enjoying a summer where summer is the outdoor time of year, when you can do fun things like go to the lake, go hiking, have picnics, tour the country on canal boats, go to fairs and festivals, have garden parties, etc., because you can step outdoors during daylight without bursting into flames. Here, that's all stuff you do in October and November, or maybe March and April, but not too late in April. And yet we bravely try to have the traditional summer. They do the Shakespeare festival on summer nights, never mind that it's still 90 degrees at the beginning of the show. There are outdoor festivals in July, when typically it's about 101 in the afternoon. For the "Taste Dallas" festival in July, I don't think they even have to turn on a stove to cook the food.
And so, I like reading books about people having a "normal" summer. Actually, this July hasn't been too bad, but the normal weather for this time of year (100+ degree days) is coming back later this week.
My only HBO movie of the weekend was Moonrise Kingdom, which took a premise that could easily have been dark and gritty -- two disaffected outsider tweens run away together -- and made it fun and quirky. Part of that was that it was set in 1965, so it was a simpler, more innocent time, and part was that it was set on a coastal island away from any of the grittier elements of civilization, so you never got the feeling the kids were in any danger from the usual problems that affect runaway kids. The boy was a hyper-prepared scout, so they had elaborate campsites. The whole feel of the movie reminded me, oddly, of Pushing Daisies.
I'd seen this movie referenced in discussions about why Hollywood can't make decent romantic comedies anymore, with this being proof that there were good ones out there. But this didn't at all trigger any of my romantic comedy responses or scratch my romantic comedy itches. The kids thought they were having a romance, but to me it looked more like two outsiders finding each other as friends and thinking that because they were a boy and a girl they had to make it romantic, but their "romantic" moments were rather half-hearted. I saw it more as a pre-teen fantasy about freedom, independence, connection and finding a place to belong. It was a good movie in that respect, but I can't see it as any kind of proof that there are good romantic comedies being made.
I have high hopes for Austenland, which should be coming soon, and I hope it comes here (and preferably to a theater I don't have to take a train to get to). The book was cute, I like the casting for the film, and it's just different enough that maybe they can have fun with it without falling into all the usual Hollywood cliches (and, please, let nobody have to chase anyone through an airport).
Now I'm off to have a Get Things Done Day, Leaving the House edition. I need new batteries in every watch I own, there are some things I need to get at the Home Depot, and I need to take care of some things at the bank and post office.
And that made me realize why I get a particular craving for British (and it must be British) chick lit during the summers. I like vicariously enjoying a summer where summer is the outdoor time of year, when you can do fun things like go to the lake, go hiking, have picnics, tour the country on canal boats, go to fairs and festivals, have garden parties, etc., because you can step outdoors during daylight without bursting into flames. Here, that's all stuff you do in October and November, or maybe March and April, but not too late in April. And yet we bravely try to have the traditional summer. They do the Shakespeare festival on summer nights, never mind that it's still 90 degrees at the beginning of the show. There are outdoor festivals in July, when typically it's about 101 in the afternoon. For the "Taste Dallas" festival in July, I don't think they even have to turn on a stove to cook the food.
And so, I like reading books about people having a "normal" summer. Actually, this July hasn't been too bad, but the normal weather for this time of year (100+ degree days) is coming back later this week.
My only HBO movie of the weekend was Moonrise Kingdom, which took a premise that could easily have been dark and gritty -- two disaffected outsider tweens run away together -- and made it fun and quirky. Part of that was that it was set in 1965, so it was a simpler, more innocent time, and part was that it was set on a coastal island away from any of the grittier elements of civilization, so you never got the feeling the kids were in any danger from the usual problems that affect runaway kids. The boy was a hyper-prepared scout, so they had elaborate campsites. The whole feel of the movie reminded me, oddly, of Pushing Daisies.
I'd seen this movie referenced in discussions about why Hollywood can't make decent romantic comedies anymore, with this being proof that there were good ones out there. But this didn't at all trigger any of my romantic comedy responses or scratch my romantic comedy itches. The kids thought they were having a romance, but to me it looked more like two outsiders finding each other as friends and thinking that because they were a boy and a girl they had to make it romantic, but their "romantic" moments were rather half-hearted. I saw it more as a pre-teen fantasy about freedom, independence, connection and finding a place to belong. It was a good movie in that respect, but I can't see it as any kind of proof that there are good romantic comedies being made.
I have high hopes for Austenland, which should be coming soon, and I hope it comes here (and preferably to a theater I don't have to take a train to get to). The book was cute, I like the casting for the film, and it's just different enough that maybe they can have fun with it without falling into all the usual Hollywood cliches (and, please, let nobody have to chase anyone through an airport).
Now I'm off to have a Get Things Done Day, Leaving the House edition. I need new batteries in every watch I own, there are some things I need to get at the Home Depot, and I need to take care of some things at the bank and post office.
July 26, 2013
A Doorknob!!!
I have a doorknob! There was much rejoicing. Now the project is entirely complete, except for painting the door frame and the door to match the exterior, but that's being done separately as part of an overall painting project in the whole complex. I was starting to worry when I hadn't heard anything after around 7:30, but then he called to ask if it was too late to come out. He was out of here by around 9. He put in the doorknob and strike plate, caulked the door frame, replaced the intake/output pipes on the water heater and re-did the electrical connection to make sure it was good and sealed. It felt so good this morning to sleep in and then eat breakfast in my pajamas without worrying about being ready in case workers might come by at any moment. Although I've been at home alone all this time, I finally really feel like I'm home alone.
It's even raining now, so this may turn into a good writing day. I've done nothing all week. I got other stuff done, but I need to get back to the book in a serious way.
In other news, I found a book on Victorian lace knitting (Victorian Lace Today) at the library, and I'm giving one of the patterns a shot. So far, I've had to transcribe the lace chart because the charts in the book are microscopic, and I find them problematic if there are more than about 7 stitches in a row that are the same because then I have to stop to count. I also sometimes get confused with the fact that the same symbol means different things, depending on which side you're on. The author had suggested using non-slippery needles for lace, so since I needed a new size of needle, I got bamboo. And I hate it because each stitch is a struggle. I guess I'd hate it as much if the stitches were sliding off the needles, so maybe I just need to get used to it. But it is a challenge and I will not back down! I like the outcome of the patterns (well, the pictures of them. I don't know about my efforts yet) enough that I may want to get a keeper copy of the book. Then I could mark my notes in it. I could try scanning and enlarging the charts, but they're placed in a way that it would be very difficult to get a good scan without taking the book apart. While the book is obviously written by a knitter, I suspect the designer who did the page layout is not a knitter.
All the news for the fall TV season is trickling out after ComicCon, which means it's time for the annual round of "Oh no, this season is going to suck, I hate what they're doing to my show and I'm not going to watch this season (but I'll stay here to bitch about it)" on all the message boards, based on the spoiler hints from panels or the trailers shown at the convention. Which means I go into "someone is wrong on the Internet!" mode and point out that this happens every year, and the ComicCon trailers are specifically designed to create those moments that will make everyone in the hall gasp audibly and to generate news and buzz. Announcing that the same characters you love will be going about business as usual doesn't spark any news. Announcing shocking new developments does, and those shocking new developments tend to be over by the end of the season premiere. Sometimes it seems like most of these people have never watched TV before. I'd love to find a good place to discuss TV with other people who remember that they've watched TV before and who can discuss things other than squealing or groaning about romantic relationships. It's a bonus if they aren't so enamored with bad boys that they get excused and get a pass on everything while the good boys can't win because they're either boring or dared do one thing wrong, which makes them terrible people who are hypocrites. ARRGGGHH. Maybe someone should start a discussion board that requires an essay test to join. If the essay sounds like something a teenage girl would have written (regardless of whether or not you are one), then you don't get in.
I'm barely hanging on with Under the Dome, mostly hate watching at this point. You'd think that a show about people trapped under a giant dome would have a lot of potential, but for the most part, they keep forgetting about the dome. It's just a small-town soap opera. Nobody in the dome is acting like someone trapped in a giant dome. They don't seem to be making any preparations, conserving resources, developing a communication system (phones and Internet aren't working), doing any kind of census to find out who's in the dome, etc. When the military tried to blow up the dome last week, in spite of the fact that it could kill everyone inside, I was cheering for the bomb.
I tried to watch Breaking Pointe, a reality show about a ballet company, because, silly me, I thought there would be dancing in it. One of the characters in the current book is a dancer, so I wanted to watch what a professional company's daily class looks like. Unfortunately, there was maybe about five minutes of dance and the rest of the show was about their relationships, the company having a party, the various hook-ups and break-ups at the party, and so forth. Maybe I'll record it to fast-forward to the actual dance parts.
It's even raining now, so this may turn into a good writing day. I've done nothing all week. I got other stuff done, but I need to get back to the book in a serious way.
In other news, I found a book on Victorian lace knitting (Victorian Lace Today) at the library, and I'm giving one of the patterns a shot. So far, I've had to transcribe the lace chart because the charts in the book are microscopic, and I find them problematic if there are more than about 7 stitches in a row that are the same because then I have to stop to count. I also sometimes get confused with the fact that the same symbol means different things, depending on which side you're on. The author had suggested using non-slippery needles for lace, so since I needed a new size of needle, I got bamboo. And I hate it because each stitch is a struggle. I guess I'd hate it as much if the stitches were sliding off the needles, so maybe I just need to get used to it. But it is a challenge and I will not back down! I like the outcome of the patterns (well, the pictures of them. I don't know about my efforts yet) enough that I may want to get a keeper copy of the book. Then I could mark my notes in it. I could try scanning and enlarging the charts, but they're placed in a way that it would be very difficult to get a good scan without taking the book apart. While the book is obviously written by a knitter, I suspect the designer who did the page layout is not a knitter.
All the news for the fall TV season is trickling out after ComicCon, which means it's time for the annual round of "Oh no, this season is going to suck, I hate what they're doing to my show and I'm not going to watch this season (but I'll stay here to bitch about it)" on all the message boards, based on the spoiler hints from panels or the trailers shown at the convention. Which means I go into "someone is wrong on the Internet!" mode and point out that this happens every year, and the ComicCon trailers are specifically designed to create those moments that will make everyone in the hall gasp audibly and to generate news and buzz. Announcing that the same characters you love will be going about business as usual doesn't spark any news. Announcing shocking new developments does, and those shocking new developments tend to be over by the end of the season premiere. Sometimes it seems like most of these people have never watched TV before. I'd love to find a good place to discuss TV with other people who remember that they've watched TV before and who can discuss things other than squealing or groaning about romantic relationships. It's a bonus if they aren't so enamored with bad boys that they get excused and get a pass on everything while the good boys can't win because they're either boring or dared do one thing wrong, which makes them terrible people who are hypocrites. ARRGGGHH. Maybe someone should start a discussion board that requires an essay test to join. If the essay sounds like something a teenage girl would have written (regardless of whether or not you are one), then you don't get in.
I'm barely hanging on with Under the Dome, mostly hate watching at this point. You'd think that a show about people trapped under a giant dome would have a lot of potential, but for the most part, they keep forgetting about the dome. It's just a small-town soap opera. Nobody in the dome is acting like someone trapped in a giant dome. They don't seem to be making any preparations, conserving resources, developing a communication system (phones and Internet aren't working), doing any kind of census to find out who's in the dome, etc. When the military tried to blow up the dome last week, in spite of the fact that it could kill everyone inside, I was cheering for the bomb.
I tried to watch Breaking Pointe, a reality show about a ballet company, because, silly me, I thought there would be dancing in it. One of the characters in the current book is a dancer, so I wanted to watch what a professional company's daily class looks like. Unfortunately, there was maybe about five minutes of dance and the rest of the show was about their relationships, the company having a party, the various hook-ups and break-ups at the party, and so forth. Maybe I'll record it to fast-forward to the actual dance parts.
July 25, 2013
Stealthier Geeks
I'm now on Day Two of Doorknob Watch. After I sat around all afternoon, waiting for the guy to arrive sometime "after lunch," I got the abject apology phone call at around 7:30 in the evening. He got busy and didn't realize until then that he'd never let me know he wouldn't make it. I never really know how to handle calls like that because the instinct is to do a reassuring "it's okay," but it's really not okay. On the other hand, being mean about it does no good because it wasn't like I wanted him to drop everything at that moment and come over here, and I know that the other thing he was working on was for the father of a neighbor who had his bedroom ceiling collapse when his air conditioner leaked. That's more urgent than my doorknob. Still, time management is one of my hot buttons. I'm a big fan of under promise, over deliver. I pad all time estimates and then if I'm early, I look like a superhero. I've found, though, that there are a lot of people who are afraid to give realistic (or padded) time estimates up front. It's like they think they're making people happy by saying something will be done soon, without realizing that people will then be really irritated if they don't come through. If he'd told me he couldn't finish with the doorknob until later in the week, I'd have been okay with it and I wouldn't have spent an afternoon held hostage in my house while waiting for him to show up. Although this particular contractor does good work, I don't think I'd hire him for anything on my own because the time thing would drive me insane.
I coined the term "stealth geek" a long time ago, and it's something I've felt describes me pretty well, since I am rather geeky ("fantasy novelist" is probably about the geekiest non-technical profession around) but I don't fit the stereotypical image of a geek. This week, though, I found that I'm merely at amateur level in those, both in stealthiness and in geekiness. We have a couple of new pastors at my church, and in order for them to get to know people, they put together a number of small-group dessert gatherings at the homes of various church members. I signed up for one hosted by a friend from the choir since I figured if I at least knew the host it might minimize the potential social awkwardness. This person reads my books, but I figured she was being polite and supportive, not that she was necessarily normally into that sort of thing. She doesn't have any of the usual geek signs. Then I got to her house, and the first thing visible is the shelf in the entryway full of various Enterprise models and a life-size phaser model. Her DVD collection looked a lot like mine, but with stuff even I don't have. Later in the evening, she invited me to join her Sunday school class for a game night. I was thinking something like Monopoly or Trivial Pursuit, but it turned out to be some kind of adventure card game. When I said that I'm not really wired for games in general and mentioned that I'm probably the only fantasy novelist who never even tried D&D, she said her D&D group already had ten people in it. Apparently this Sunday school class is essentially a science fiction convention with bonus Bible study. I might give them a try, although they're all married, mostly with kids (and most of the kids have been in or will soon be in my choir) and mostly significantly younger than I am. So it turns out that she's both stealthier and geekier than I am.
But that wasn't the biggest surprise. Two of the other people at this gathering were a slightly older couple (they have a ten-year-old grandchild) who are involved in a lot of music things. She plays the harp and he plays the hammered dulcimer, and they demonstrate the instruments for my choir kids. He sings in the choir, and they're both really sweet about coming up to compliment me whenever I sing in a duet or quartet. Absolutely nothing about them pings my geekdar. But then they were admiring the host's DVD collection and started talking about all the Stargate conventions they've gone to. That's some Ninja Level stealth geeking. In retrospect, the harp and the hammered dulcimer might have been a clue, as they're instruments found at Renaissance festivals, but I don't get a Rennie vibe from these people.
Then there was the person I didn't know who approached me to ask if there will be more books in my series, and there was the Firefly discussion on the way out (one of the other guests complimented the hosts on "a mighty fine shindig"), and I was left rather confused. Had I been to a church event or a convention? I had no idea my church was this geeky.
On another note, if you want to make a good first impression on the new pastors, it might not be such a great idea to be holding a baby while introducing yourself as one of the few never-married single adults in the church. I'd taken her off her parents' hands so they could eat, and she was happily burrowing into my hair when it came my turn to introduce myself. I quickly clarified that I was doing early recruiting for children's choir and would be returning her to her parents as soon as we managed to extricate her from my hair (it took three people).
I coined the term "stealth geek" a long time ago, and it's something I've felt describes me pretty well, since I am rather geeky ("fantasy novelist" is probably about the geekiest non-technical profession around) but I don't fit the stereotypical image of a geek. This week, though, I found that I'm merely at amateur level in those, both in stealthiness and in geekiness. We have a couple of new pastors at my church, and in order for them to get to know people, they put together a number of small-group dessert gatherings at the homes of various church members. I signed up for one hosted by a friend from the choir since I figured if I at least knew the host it might minimize the potential social awkwardness. This person reads my books, but I figured she was being polite and supportive, not that she was necessarily normally into that sort of thing. She doesn't have any of the usual geek signs. Then I got to her house, and the first thing visible is the shelf in the entryway full of various Enterprise models and a life-size phaser model. Her DVD collection looked a lot like mine, but with stuff even I don't have. Later in the evening, she invited me to join her Sunday school class for a game night. I was thinking something like Monopoly or Trivial Pursuit, but it turned out to be some kind of adventure card game. When I said that I'm not really wired for games in general and mentioned that I'm probably the only fantasy novelist who never even tried D&D, she said her D&D group already had ten people in it. Apparently this Sunday school class is essentially a science fiction convention with bonus Bible study. I might give them a try, although they're all married, mostly with kids (and most of the kids have been in or will soon be in my choir) and mostly significantly younger than I am. So it turns out that she's both stealthier and geekier than I am.
But that wasn't the biggest surprise. Two of the other people at this gathering were a slightly older couple (they have a ten-year-old grandchild) who are involved in a lot of music things. She plays the harp and he plays the hammered dulcimer, and they demonstrate the instruments for my choir kids. He sings in the choir, and they're both really sweet about coming up to compliment me whenever I sing in a duet or quartet. Absolutely nothing about them pings my geekdar. But then they were admiring the host's DVD collection and started talking about all the Stargate conventions they've gone to. That's some Ninja Level stealth geeking. In retrospect, the harp and the hammered dulcimer might have been a clue, as they're instruments found at Renaissance festivals, but I don't get a Rennie vibe from these people.
Then there was the person I didn't know who approached me to ask if there will be more books in my series, and there was the Firefly discussion on the way out (one of the other guests complimented the hosts on "a mighty fine shindig"), and I was left rather confused. Had I been to a church event or a convention? I had no idea my church was this geeky.
On another note, if you want to make a good first impression on the new pastors, it might not be such a great idea to be holding a baby while introducing yourself as one of the few never-married single adults in the church. I'd taken her off her parents' hands so they could eat, and she was happily burrowing into my hair when it came my turn to introduce myself. I quickly clarified that I was doing early recruiting for children's choir and would be returning her to her parents as soon as we managed to extricate her from my hair (it took three people).
July 24, 2013
Writing With a Day Job
Door Watch update: The door is installed! He was supposed to have been here at 9:30, he called at 11 to say he'd be here in an hour to an hour and a half, and he showed up at 2:20. In addition to ripping out the old rotted doorframe and installing the new door and frame, they also gave the interior a coat of paint and confirmed that the roof repair must have worked because there were no signs of a leak after all the rain last week. However, The Project That Will Not End isn't over yet. The new door didn't come with a doorknob and the old doorknob is rusted through, so he has to get a doorknob and come back this afternoon, and there are a couple of things he needs to do to the water heater to tweak the rather insane configuration in that cabinet. I did get the sense that I'm not the only one he has time issues with. Just after he'd told me that they'd probably finish here in a couple of hours, I overheard him on the phone with someone else saying they'd be wrapping up in 45 minutes and heading over to the next job. That actually turned out to be more accurate than the two hours he told me, but that next person did probably end up waiting longer than anticipated.
After the previous writing post about when to quit the day job, I got some questions about writing with a day job. Most authors do start writing while holding down some other job, since there aren't exactly entry-level novelist jobs and sleeping indoors and eating are important. Here's some advice based on my experiences and what I've learned from other writers. This isn't a one-size-fits-all thing. You need to find what works for you in your life. I never had to hold down a day job, have a family and still have time to write, so I can't really address that other than from what I've observed from friends.
One thing you'll need to become good at is time management. Being more efficient about the things you need to do will help you carve out more writing time. It may help to analyze the way you spend your leisure time to see if there's anything you can painlessly cut out. You probably will have to make some sacrifices to make more time to write, but it's best to start with the time that isn't a sacrifice.
For instance, if you record TV shows and then skip commercials, you can painlessly save nearly 15 minutes out of an hour-long show without having to give up a favorite show. Or there's the time wasted with commuting. When I had a day job, my commute home during rush hour was generally about 40 minutes to an hour for a trip that was about 20-25 minutes at other times of day. I was able to carve out a lot of extra time just by avoiding that rush-hour commute. If I spent half an hour or so in my office writing after work, then I'd get home not much later than if I left at five, without the traffic headache and having produced something. Some days, I could meet my entire writing goal for the day before I left the office, so I could just go home and relax. I suppose you could do the same thing in the morning if you were a morning person -- go to work before rush hour and then spend the time before work starts writing. If you can't do that sort of thing where you work, find a place near your office that's not awful to get to during rush hour, like a coffee shop, library, etc.
Two things you shouldn't sacrifice are sleep and exercise. Studies have shown that you perform better, think more clearly and are more creative when you get at least six hours of sleep a night and get some daily exercise. Spending that time will more than make up for any writing time you lose. A lot of creativity in the subconscious happens while you're asleep, so if you don't sleep enough for that to work, you're missing out on a big part of what your brain can do for you.
Get to know how you work best and take advantage of that. Are you a morning writer or a night writer? Do you work best in quiet solitude or in some kind of chaos or noise? Can you toss off a few sentences whenever you have a spare moment, or do you need to get into a groove to really accomplish anything? I've known people who could write a paragraph or two in random spare moments throughout the day. I don't seem to work well that way, so I tried to cluster things to give myself bigger blocks of time to write. In those random spare moments I might do some brainstorming of what to write later, or I might use that time to get other things out of the way. I found it better to do all my errands on one night and forget about writing that night so that I'd have an uninterrupted block of writing time later that week. I found it worked better to have two to three hours a couple of nights a week than half an hour every night.
It may help to schedule your writing time and take it seriously as an appointment. For me, Friday nights were my writing time, since trying to schedule going out after work was difficult and I could sleep in on Saturday mornings. I'd come home from work, have dinner, watch The X-Files (I had my priorities), then make a pot of tea and write until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. While you're at it, schedule the other things you want to do and share that schedule with the people in your life. I've heard from writers with families that this helps because the family feels less neglected if they know when you'll be doing things with them and if they know when a writing session will end.
It may also help to ease into trying to keep a writing schedule instead of diving in head-first and trying to write a novel in a month or two. Start with a night a week and maybe a couple of two-hour blocks on weekends. When that becomes easy, doesn't feel like a sacrifice and you find that you're making progress in that time instead of staring at the computer screen, maybe add a night and increase weekend blocks. Ignore the people who say that to be a real writer you have to write every single day. As long as you're making steady progress and producing something instead of just talking about writing, you're a real writer, whether you write a few minutes a day or do a weekend marathon.
After the previous writing post about when to quit the day job, I got some questions about writing with a day job. Most authors do start writing while holding down some other job, since there aren't exactly entry-level novelist jobs and sleeping indoors and eating are important. Here's some advice based on my experiences and what I've learned from other writers. This isn't a one-size-fits-all thing. You need to find what works for you in your life. I never had to hold down a day job, have a family and still have time to write, so I can't really address that other than from what I've observed from friends.
One thing you'll need to become good at is time management. Being more efficient about the things you need to do will help you carve out more writing time. It may help to analyze the way you spend your leisure time to see if there's anything you can painlessly cut out. You probably will have to make some sacrifices to make more time to write, but it's best to start with the time that isn't a sacrifice.
For instance, if you record TV shows and then skip commercials, you can painlessly save nearly 15 minutes out of an hour-long show without having to give up a favorite show. Or there's the time wasted with commuting. When I had a day job, my commute home during rush hour was generally about 40 minutes to an hour for a trip that was about 20-25 minutes at other times of day. I was able to carve out a lot of extra time just by avoiding that rush-hour commute. If I spent half an hour or so in my office writing after work, then I'd get home not much later than if I left at five, without the traffic headache and having produced something. Some days, I could meet my entire writing goal for the day before I left the office, so I could just go home and relax. I suppose you could do the same thing in the morning if you were a morning person -- go to work before rush hour and then spend the time before work starts writing. If you can't do that sort of thing where you work, find a place near your office that's not awful to get to during rush hour, like a coffee shop, library, etc.
Two things you shouldn't sacrifice are sleep and exercise. Studies have shown that you perform better, think more clearly and are more creative when you get at least six hours of sleep a night and get some daily exercise. Spending that time will more than make up for any writing time you lose. A lot of creativity in the subconscious happens while you're asleep, so if you don't sleep enough for that to work, you're missing out on a big part of what your brain can do for you.
Get to know how you work best and take advantage of that. Are you a morning writer or a night writer? Do you work best in quiet solitude or in some kind of chaos or noise? Can you toss off a few sentences whenever you have a spare moment, or do you need to get into a groove to really accomplish anything? I've known people who could write a paragraph or two in random spare moments throughout the day. I don't seem to work well that way, so I tried to cluster things to give myself bigger blocks of time to write. In those random spare moments I might do some brainstorming of what to write later, or I might use that time to get other things out of the way. I found it better to do all my errands on one night and forget about writing that night so that I'd have an uninterrupted block of writing time later that week. I found it worked better to have two to three hours a couple of nights a week than half an hour every night.
It may help to schedule your writing time and take it seriously as an appointment. For me, Friday nights were my writing time, since trying to schedule going out after work was difficult and I could sleep in on Saturday mornings. I'd come home from work, have dinner, watch The X-Files (I had my priorities), then make a pot of tea and write until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. While you're at it, schedule the other things you want to do and share that schedule with the people in your life. I've heard from writers with families that this helps because the family feels less neglected if they know when you'll be doing things with them and if they know when a writing session will end.
It may also help to ease into trying to keep a writing schedule instead of diving in head-first and trying to write a novel in a month or two. Start with a night a week and maybe a couple of two-hour blocks on weekends. When that becomes easy, doesn't feel like a sacrifice and you find that you're making progress in that time instead of staring at the computer screen, maybe add a night and increase weekend blocks. Ignore the people who say that to be a real writer you have to write every single day. As long as you're making steady progress and producing something instead of just talking about writing, you're a real writer, whether you write a few minutes a day or do a weekend marathon.
