Category: Writing

So!  Neogenesis now clocks in at 68,505 words, which actually means very little, but it looks like progress.  What y’all need to know is that the book to this point (about midway, as we discussed elsewhere) is squared up, and I’m confident that the action which proceedeth therefrom will not follow a crooked path.

Or at least, an unintended crooked path.

Tomorrow, I get to write New Stuff, including, it says here, a Sneaky Break-in.  Cool.  I’ve been wanting to write a Sneaky Break-in for a long while, now, and I know just the people who can carry it off.

Raining here; snow up-country tonight.  They say.

Everybody stay dry.

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“Cha’trez, I believe that I shall return to active duty. You will do Korval honor, I know.”

So, I finished the unweaving and reweaving of the 67,000ish words of Neogeneis, which includes several thousand words of bridge-work, printed it out, and for the last couple days, the coon cats and I have been staked out on the couch, reading for continuity, sense, missing words/scenes, and inappropriate underlining (which become itals in the finished book).  We brought to this task, the Last Red Pen in the house, which was found to be dry, whereupon a blue pen was Pressed Into Service;  three stacks of sticky tabs:  yellow, purple, blue; a set of punctuation tabs; and the current working yellow pad.

The score thus far:  With 264 pages completed, and just 30 pages left to go, the yellow sticky tabs are no more; and a little better than half of the purple ones have been expended.  It’s a toss-up if I’ll have to tap the blue ones before the end of the story as it now stands.  Either way, sticky tabs and red pens are on the To Buy list.

The story hangs together as such, which is a relief — there’s really nothing more frustrating than a Better Idea that turns out, in practice, to not have been a good idea.

We usually set 100,000 words as the goal for a completed novel, which would mean that, at 67,000ish, BE (before edits), we’d be on the downslope, with only about 33,000 words left to write.

Given the rhythm of the piece already in hand, though, it really does seem as if we’re only a little past half-done.  So, we’re looking at a finished manuscript of 125/135,000 words, without “extras” such as lexicon or timeline.

Today, after I finish the last 30 pages, I will retire to my desktop, and start inputting the edits/correx/expansions.  Then, I can get to work on the scenes which are forced (duly noted on the yellow pad, and, err, other bits of scrap paper (hey! I don’t bring the yellow pad to dinner with me; unfortunately, I do bring the story)).

And that’s what’s been going on around the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

In other news, after a brief remission, the cold has come back with a vengeance and an Attitude.  Ginger/lemon tea with honey will definitely be my beverage of choice, today.

I want to thank everyone who weighed in with recommendations re Niagara Falls.  I’ve done a little bit of research based on your data, and — yeah, the Canadian side really does seem like the place to be.  We’ll be there in early-mid August (if all goes well), which I guess is the middle of tourist season — and will be a change for us.  Our wedding anniversary is the second most frequent reason for us to travel, and that’s in November, after many Sights are closed for the season.  Being at a tourist attraction when everything is open will be exciting.

And now — back to work.  The coon cats and I will be on the couch.

Those who have been paying attention will recall that I am a self-taught writer.  I have no degrees in Creative Writing, nor English, Literature, or any of the rest.  I learned, first, by reading; and I learned, later, by doing.  This is not to say that one ever stops learning by reading, and most especially by doing, but there was, in my case, a certain progression.  I read until my brain had absorbed. . .Enough, and then I moved on to Phase II.

Which is where I, and every other writer, if they’re honest, resides for the entirety of their professional lives.

So this morning I decided to revisit one of the stories that inspired me — a story that I still aspire to equal, some day.

I was a little afraid that it would not be as wonderful — as brightly perfect — as I recalled, as it’s been some years since my most recent re-read.

The story is still wonderful, and I am, as yet and still, only an egg.

Here’s a link:  Srendi Vashtar, H.H. Munro

You’re welcome.

I believe that my topic is Yesterday.

Yesterday was Saturday.  It started annoyingly early, with a rustle-rustle-rustle so persistent that it woke me up.  The source was found to be Sprite, who, in a fit of boredom, one supposes, had knocked over the trashcan in my office, dragged out the packing balloons that had protected the light bulbs during their long journey from New Jersey to Maine, and was avidly licking them.  I don’t know what it is with the coon cats and plastic, but they love to lick it, and, unless it’s removed from their orbit, will do so until it shreds.

Stern Words were spoken.  The (shredded) balloons were removed.  The trashcan was righted, and I went into the kitchen to pour coffee.

Coffee in hand, I opened my mail and found myself on the receiving end of a download from a pirate site, which speaks to the advice that I shouldn’t operate heavy machinery, including the internet, until after I’ve finished the first cup of coffee.

Anyhow, this incident meant that I needed to deep-scan my computer for a virus check, which I of course did with the best of grace.  Loudly.

Steve made a cheese-and-turkey omelette for breakfast; after, we went out, to (1) pick up a prescription at the drug store, (2) check the post office box, (3) pick up several necessary items at the grocery store.

*cue laugh track*

It came about that we needed a filleting knife to replace the one that came with me as part of my marriage portion, and which had achieved a separation from its handle.  So!  After stopping at the post office, and since we were on that side of town, it just made sense to zip over to KMart.

We arrived in the middle of someone loudly haranguing the person at the customer service station.  The first thing to greet my ears was, “You cannot lie to your customers.  One store says one thing, your store says something else.  One of you is lying.  In either case, you are in violation of contract law.  Do you want your company to be sued?  Or will you just DO YOUR JOB and. . .”

. . .you get the gist.  And!  He went on in this same vein, in a voice that could be heard to the far corners of the store, for the entire half-hour we were there.  Back in the sock section, I could barely think inside the racket.  God She knows how the poor woman trapped in customer managed to cope.

Anyhow, I managed to buy what I call “house socks” — men’s construction socks, with padded soles.  I wear them — surprise! — around the house in the winter time, since I prefer sock-foot to slipper-feet.

Since we were in KMart, and I had money in my pocket, I stopped by the jewelry counter to buy a silver chain, KMart having been, last I looked, a leading purveyor of cheap sterling silver chains.

Um.

A 28-inch silver chain at KMart had a list price of $149.95 (do what now?), but!  They were 70% off.  Which brought it all the way down to $45.  Which was a shade more than twice as much as I was willing to spend.  The saleswoman did her best, reminding me that I could put it on layaway, but I manged to leave the chain where it was, and got to the cash register to buy my socks just as the disgruntled gentleman left the store, phone glued to ear.

Steve did not find a filleting knife.

Back in the car we went to travel to the other side of town, where we picked up the winter extra cat food, and the prescription, and stopped at TJ Maxx, since it’s in the same shopping center as the Hannaford, still in search of the filleting knife.

Steve went back to kitchenware, and I stopped at the jewelry counter to chat with my acquaintance there.  As it happened, she had a 28-inch silver chain in stock.  For $19.99, which was very much more like it.  So, I achieved my silver chain.  Yay.

Steve did not find a filleting knife in TJ Maxx, either.

Onward to the grocery store, where we took on same, and Steve found a pair of knives that each might do the job of a filleting blade, and home again, where we had a light lunch and a long nap, before arising to go to work.

Work went well, Steve and I met for the evening meal, a glass of wine, and a chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October.  So, though the day started in aggravation, it wound down peacefully.

And here ends Saturday’s narrative.

Today’s schedule includes answering a convention survey, the doing of laundry, and, naturally enough, more work on Neogenesis.  I have ahead of me a whole week with no lengthy real-world interruptions of any kind, so I hope to get a lot of words written in a forwarder direction.

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Rough Approximate Word Count for Neogenesis
61,835/130,000 OR 48% complete

“I live to be of use to you, Theo,” he said gently. “May one know the reason for these. . .arrangements?”

Usually, I write a blog post here, and give the folks on Twitter and Facebook a link.

Today — just to keep y’all on your toes — I’m doing it backwards.

Posted at Facebook at 11:00 am on Sunday, September 25, 2016:

So, yesterday was a work day, and today will be another like it. I have to pay bills first, and straighten out the mess that I have allowed the checkbook to become, then rewrite the scene I wrote last night, using the Proper Viewpoint (you’d think I’d get these things right the first time at this point in the game, wouldn’t you?), and move on with the next scene.

Crisp and cool this morning; sunny, with a persistent breeze. Over breakfast, Steve and I discussed the Vital Matter of Turning On the Heat, and decided it’s time to bring the basement thermostat on-line, to warm the floors, and calibrate as necessary from there.

This morning on Facebook, I unfriended someone for being so ill-advised as to “poke” me. This is policy, folks: “poke” me and be cast into the outer darkness.

I wrote a blog post yesterday — here’s the pointer, for them what’s interested in the trials and tribulations of raisin bread.

Also, I am reading a book. I am not happy with this book, *at all* (no, I’m not going to tell you which book). The plot, at about 2/3s of the way through Makes No Sense; the “romance” is making me crazy (they hate each other, but they can’t keep their hands off each other. Please. Just…please); another plot-point has Just Now been introduced that only promises to make things more confusing, rather than more exciting. . .but, worst of all, the heroine is Too Stupid to Live. Unfortunately, it looks like she’s going to make it to the sequel. At this point, I’m reading on to see if the author can actually pull it out; if they do, I’ll have learned something.

What else? Oh. Steve is making spaghetti and meat sauce for supper. It’s a good day for spaghetti.

What’re y’all doing today?