Category: Writing

The bathroom is clean!

The dishes are washed!

I wrote a scene and broke 40K!

…still have to make the bed, though.

…and eat dinner.

Guess I better get on the case.

G’night.

* * *

Progress on Carousel Seas

40,792/100,000 OR 40.79% complete

They hadn’t told her that he was beautiful.

Frequent readers of this blog will recall that yesterday, I posted a snippet from work-in-progress Carousel Seas; then deleted it when a complaint about the ungrammaticalness of the snippet was the first response to it.

Now, posting snippets is something I do because I want to; it’s fun in much the same way as eating cookies fresh out of the oven is fun.  Neither is meant to be nutritious, necessarily; just a little hit of pleasure to sweeten the day.

Snippets usually come directly out of the work I’ve done on the day of their posting; they are first draft material.  That means they may contain spelling errors, punctuation errors, errors in arithmetic, grammar errors, and all the other sorts of Soul-Destroying Horrors that attend first draft material.

The cry of “not grammatically correct” struck me exactly the same way as you would have been struck, had I walked into your kitchen and slapped the plate of warm cookies out of your hand.

Exactly that.

I mean, if I don’t want a warm cookie, all I have to say is, “No, thanks.”  Right?  No need to be rude about it.

If a snippet offends you, then don’t read any more snippets.  That’s easy, right?  I put them at the very bottom of the page for a reason, you know*.

I want to make it clear that I don’t think my work is perfect; and I certainly don’t think the snippets are perfect.  Some things I post as snippets don’t survive the final draft.  I am, at least a little bit, aware of the demands of my craft.  I do multiple read-throughs of my working manuscript, correcting, changing and shaping.

I also want to make clear that I do not reverence grammar above all things.  Grammar is a tool.  It is not the only tool.  Which is why my initial, but usually suppressed, response to those who need to explain to me that my grammar sucks is, “So. Fucking. What?”

For the folks who are asking that the snippet be re-instated, and that snippeting continue. . .give me a few days to think about this.  I don’t like having cookies slapped out of my hands; it’s upsetting.  This doesn’t mean that I need — or want — tons of praise for my powers as a baker; I mean, for ghod’s sake, they’re just cookies.  I just don’t want to be abused for having baked them.

———–

*The Reason Being that I was taken to task (a couple years ago now) on Baen’s Bar for snipetting.  The objection there being to one’s unrelenting self-promotion.  That kerfuffle cost me three days’ work and a migraine, so you can see why I hide the snippets now, and also why I want to be very careful of my space on this.  If I can’t feel reasonably safe, and get some pleasure from the act of snipetting, then it’s clear, in order to protect my work, that I shouldn’t snippet.

 

So, the day thus far has included the annual mammogram (have you had yours?  Have you scheduled it?), a trip to the post office, Which. Was. A. Zoo, because — Tax Day, right?  Maine residents have traditionally caught a break, and got one more day to mail their taxes, because (in Maine and Massachusetts only) April 15  is also — anyone?

You in the red sweater. . .I’m sorry?  Yes!  Patriot’s Day*!  A splendid New England holiday on which banks and schools close, but not the Post Office.

Someone this year decided to take advantage of the Post Office being open for business on New England’s Own Holiday and decreed that taxes have to mailed on the fifteenth in Maine and Massachusetts.  Thus the Pandemonium at the Post Office.

Where was I?

Oh — the errands upon the morning.

Mammogram, Post Office, bank (but it was closed! caught me.), grocery store and so to home.

I’m now thinking I need to do something supperish and get with Carousel Seas.  Regular readers here will recall that I was going to try to beat the plot out of Character C persuade Character C to tell me what they have in their mind.  They naturally — and, yanno, predictably — refused.

It is, of course, possible that I’m over-thinking the whole thing, that I already have the information I need, and that all will become Obvious in the Fullness of Time.

It’s equally possible that the backbrain hasn’t finished noodling that bit out yet.

Having no other choice, I recruit myself to patience, and recall that Character C is a competent sneak who’s been doing This Kind of Thing for far longer than I have.  Therefore, I shall continue on with writing the bits I do know.

I used to think that I’d be a Real Writer once I learned how a book went together.

*cue laugh track*

______________

*In Maryland, where I grew up, Patriot’s Day is September 11, so when I worked for the State, which I did for many years, I got my birthday off.  Everybody should have their birthday off!  I So Decree.

* * *

Progress on Carousel Seas

32,638/100,000 OR 32.64% complete

Note:  There had been a snippet here, but it was, I am told, grammatically incorrect.  I have, therefore, removed the snippet before it offended someone else.

 

Yesterday was bright and sunny and warm; a nice day made a little less so by having to go into town twice, because of the doctor’s office losing a prescription.  Again.  All of the doctors in town are re-aligning themselves with Inland Hospital, which is  a very nice hospital, and the one that’s staying in, rather than abandoning, Waterville*.  But, Inland has a System, and it’s taking some time for all the little systems to integrate into the One True System.  It’s understandable, but I wish they’d practice on someone else’s prescriptions, now.

In-between those two trips to town, I picked up all the Random Stuff that snow leaves behind it and raked the dead leaves out of the cat garden.  The daffodils are starting to come up under the Cat Observation Port at the front of the house (yes, yes, I know; some of you have had daffodils for weeks).

Today, of course, the weatherbeans are calling for snowsleetandrain.  Just as well; I really need to get some wordage on Carousel Seas, if  Character C will only please fork over with what, exactly, is in their mind.  Soon.  Because at just about one third of the way into the book, it’s not too early for me to know this.

I think I forgot to mention here that we got a pdf of the almost-finished Dragonwriter:  A Tribute to Anne McCaffrey and Pern, so that we could check over our essay one more time.  I think I can safely say that this is going to be a beautiful book, as well as insightful, with essays from David Brin, Elizabeth Moon, Lois McMaster Bujold, David Gerrold, Mercedes Lackey, Richard Woods, Elizabeth Anne Scarborough, Michael Whelan, Janis Ian, and more!  If you were one of Anne’s many readers, you’re really going to want this one.

Hope everyone is having a brilliant Friday.

__________

*MaineGeneral is moving to fancy new digs out to Augusta.  They say there are not abandoning the town because they’re leaving an emergency room and various clinics here.  And besides, the new hospital will only be 20 miles down the road.  Twenty miles is kind of a big deal in a snow-or-ice storm.  Just sayin’.

* * *

Progress on Carousel Seas

29,226/100,000  OR 29.23% complete

(Yeah, word count is a little down from the last report, because I went through all the chapters that exist, and tightened them up.  Funny how you lose words when you tighten up.)

“If I. . .mingled with the sea; let her wash through my spirit, and surrendered all of me to be part of her — I’d fail my oath, and my Guardianship wouldn’t be anything other than wrack and whim.”

So, a fresh delivery of spoons has been accumulating.  The problem with spoons being that they seem to run out all at once, but so many people have them on back-order that they arrive in drips and drabs and you hardly notice they’ve come in, until one day you (by which I mean “I”) realize that you have a brain, and energy, again.

The realization that I once again have full access to my brain came yesterday, as I was staring moodily at the blank computer page where a chapter should have been taking form.  I had written out what I thought the next scene should be, but then I realized that. . .it was boring.  I needed magic! sparkle! energy! And I said to myself, “What is the most magical thing in the sea?”

And I remember this true story from my own past.

It was 1978; Steve and I had been given the use my friend David’ beach house in Hatteras Village for a week.  David’s house was on stilts, and the only thing between it and the ocean was the house directly in front of it, which was designed on an ancient flying saucer blueprint.  It also sat on stilts.  I guess they thought it would float, in the event of a storm tide.

In any case, one morning, I was walking on the beach, and came across three guys, fishing.  And one of the guys had just brought his catch up onto the sand — I could see that it was a Really Big Fish.  As I came up to the group, one of the other guys had cut the line, and the fish was flailing, and seemed to be trying to bite — anything, really.  The guys kinda moved away, and I said, “What kind of fish is that?”

“Oh,” said the one whose line had been cut.  “That’s just a sand shark.”

This is a sand shark

Notice how most of his head is mouth?  A mouth full of lots and lots of teeth?  I want to tell you that, drowning and furious and desperate as it was, it impressed the hell out of me.

Later that day,  I was playing the the surf, and staring down through this incredibly clear, turquoise water at the rays, and the fish, and all.  Prompted by who knows what, I looked up, and to my right — and there, coming toward me fast, was a dorsal fin.

I flashed on the sand shark, and knew, for one very long moment, as I stared at that fin flying toward me, that I was going to die.

And then the dolphin broke water not an arm’s length away, arcing high into the sky, and grinning down at me, with a “Got you!” gleam in his eye.

And I laughed, and it was magic.

. . .and I knew then what to write in that blank screen that was supposed to be the next chapter.

It really is good when your brain works.

. . .which brings us back to spoons, the losing and regathering of same.

Yesterday, I came across this.  I suggest you all read it.  Yes, right now; I’ll wait.

Back?  Cool.

As far as my own experience goes, the tips are pretty much dead on.  If it were my list, I would repeat  Point 19 several times.  I would, indeed, print out Point 19 and tack it up where I could see it.

I would likewise repeat and print out Point 14.

If it were my list, I would add naming a Designated Hitter, if at all possible; someone who will answer important emails, make necessary phone calls, and keep the mundane stuff up and running while you’re not able to do so.

But, really, that’s a niggle.  Excellent tips; well-said, and well-presented.

 

Today, it’s raining, and it’s looking like me and Mozart on the couch with a yellow pad, planning out the next bit of story.

I’m looking forward to that.

* * *

Progress on Carousel Seas

28,952/100,000 OR 28.95% complete

Ah! How she yearned to learn the truth of herself, and to know whether that hauteur was earned. . .or a pose.

 

 

My office had gotten into a terrible state, what with several stacks of file boxes that had been shoved into corners “temporarily” celebrating the second anniversary of their tenancy this tax season.  Steve helped me carry them all down to the basement, where they’re now happy among their kin.

After the boxes were dealt with, I filed, and I picked things up off the floor and put them away.  I realize now that I should have taken Before pictures, so the transformation can be more completely realized, but!  these may serve as a reminder to me, at least, that the place can t0o be neat.  Or at least, neater.

 

 

 

 

Having goofed off today in fine form for most of the day, I’ll now go to work, though I find myself somewhat at a standstill regarding the Exact Sorts of Fish that occupy the Gulf of Maine, and in specific, Saco Bay, and what they look like.  The internet has failed me in this.  I need to run errands tomorrow, so perhaps a stop at the library for a. . .fishiary?. . .is in order.