Category: Writing

I have poured myself two big brown cups of motivation, but it’s like something’s rattling loose in my brain.

Got two walks in yesterday.  It was gloriously sunny.

Check ben ça. I was researching Michel’s swearing, which I have kept to a dull roar because speech in dialect is RACIST.  (Deep elitist sigh.)  I understand that my extremely clunky tribute to the French accent of my formative years is not going to look good, but it’s all part of the extremely not hidden commentary on colonialism which forms the sticky underside of the novels.  The surface being all about surfaces, of course.  The middle is a topologically improbable tangle of matter and intelligence and bad jokes and sentimentality.

That’s the new count.

I’ve been for a walk, had a cup of coffee, and I’m about as motivated as a dead stick.

wrapup WarPup?  eh

 

Checkmate theme.

The history of So Round So Firm So Fully Packed.  1945. Lucky Strikes ad.  1947.  Merle Travis Hymns his Girlfriend’s Ass using that line.  Then other people do.  Then it ends up in a Warner Brother’s Cartoon.  Then it ends up in Elfquest.  God knows where it is now.

Nardwuar the Human Serviette had a stroke.  He is recovering in hospital here in Vancouver.

THERE WILL BE A NEW TINTIN MOVIE in 2016.  Jamie Bell and Andy Serkis are rumoured to be involved again, and Peter Jackson’s directing.

Harrison Ford being interviewed

I: So you wanted Han Solo to be killed off?

HF: Yeah

I: How did you want him to die?

Long pause, eyeroll.

HF: … Food poisoning.

Editor comment: Because that’s such a … dignified way to go to your reward. And at the very last, with his strength almost gone, he can flip a coin to the caregiver and mutter, sorry about the mess.

It’s a Dalek going like this ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Are you good at giving directions?  I am.  It’s all about word order.

And he may walk, the callous asshole.

word count 13832 – but I was editing instead of writing and that’s wut happens….

 

Sheesh.  I’m never going to make my April 1 deadline for the last manuscript at this rate.  However, it’s progress and I’ll take it.

 

Wow, you hardly have to change the lyrics at all to the Spike Jones song. (The Donald Duck cartoon featuring the song is still pretty funny and there are additional lyrics.)

When der Trumpman says we is de master race
We heil heil right in der Trumpman’s face
Not to love der Trumpman is a great disgrace
So we heil heil right in der Trumpman’s face

When Herr Limbaugh says we own the world and space
We heil heil right in Herr Limbaugh’s face
When Herr Christie says they’ll never bomb this place
We heil heil right in Herr Christie’s face
Are we not he supermen Aryan pure supermen
Ja we are the supermen (super duper supermen)
Is this Not-See land so good
Would you leave it if you could
Ja this Not-See land is good
We would leave it if we could
We bring the world new order
Heil Trumpman world to order
Everyone of foreign race
Will love der Trumpman’s face
When we bring to the world disorder

A slow start but a start nevertheless.

Today a quick hop to get biscotti ingredaments and then some xmas baking and then a family meal at Planet Bachelor.

Everybody have a great day!

 

 

So now I pause until Monday.  Getting the edits done was challenging for all concerned and I celebrated a leedle too hard last night with Mike so I’m having a very super relaxed and undemanding day today.

Tomorrow if I have the energy I’ll try to deal with some household stuff. And then back to writing!

 

That’s likely when I’m going home.

 

ONLY 70 MORE PAGES of edits, mOm has been doing HEROine service.  Then I get to do the single scariest thing I will do all year – give it to my brother to read. Jeff is an excellent writer and prides himself on his editing skills so I’m kinda nervous.  I also know that he’s not my target readership, so hopefully I won’t be destroyed by his (likely very low key) critique.

Who should read my books? Good question.  I know who I’m trying to piss off, if that helps: MRA’s, Quiverfull types, racists, sexists, homophobes, transphobes and anybody who has anything to do with the governance and policing of the lower Mainland.

Saw my editor yesterday.  We always have such a panic when we get together. She showed me what my last payment bought her… I approve!  Plus, there were cats and there was Darjeeling and that sign in her bathroom I keep forgetting to take a picture of HIPPIES GO AROUND BACK no exceptions. Okay I got it wrong.

Sure.

 

I have had a good day writing.  I am hoping I’ll feel like more this afternoon.  I’ve just written the scene where Sweetie gets her eviction papers served up by Michel.

I am always in better shape when the sun is shining. Me’n’the pathetic fallacy, just like that.

About stoicism.

Last night the woman who fed me gave me a job lead! I have applied and am hopeful I meet the criteria.

Yesterday was not a writing day, it was a social day.  I got fed an amazing meal by a complete stranger and we sang and played afterwards.  Thank you Janice L for the invite, I am really really grateful for the food and fellowship – and I got a lift home so I didn’t need to worry about a cab.

Anyway, today I feel damn good. I quit facebook again, hoping that this will force me to pick up a phone and call people.

Must fetch me some brekky I’m starving.

I hope everybody appreciates how I stayed home yesterday and wrote rather than go to a house filk. But a thousand words is worth it (broken up into three stretches of writing.)

Only 76000 words to go! Plus extras for editing.

Lovely brief visit to Tom and Peggy’s for the AntiThanksBaking, starring Jeff and Jeri Lynn and Callie and her sweetie.  Plus bonus Cindy and GREG.  Plus bonus home made 3D printer.  Plus OMG best tea cookies on surface of planet nearly fell face down in it to devour entire sheet.

Which was a distinct tactical error since Mike was taking me to dinner.  Shrimp and salad, a light meal, with a Fat Tug, which about nuked me. I was thinking of a pitcher; Mike burst out laughing and the server blanched. So, no.

Lost my brother’s car keys.  Later, found brother’s car keys.  In the middle PANIC O MY GOD JEFF WILL NEVER TRUST ME AGAIN.

Lost my brother’s external hard drive cables.  Jeff went into the chaotically artistic debris field that is my room and rescued the cables with the grim determination of a mother cat rescuing her offspring from a house fire.  I am killing myself laughing as I type this. I must be the luckiest woman alive.

Fed Ayesha.

Breakfast at Coming Home.  Kassidy was working.  We had many giggles. They are welcoming to everybody.  Coffee ran through me faster than a Vlad’s Special.

Now I’m watching F1, time shifted, from Abu Dhabi.  The architecture for this circuit is graceful and superb even if it is a glazier’s wet dream.