Category: Writing

long ass birthday

Had a simply lovely day at work for my birthday, and better yet had a simply lovely and tasty burger salad and shake at Burger Heaven in New West with Katie. I love my daughter. We laughed our asses off.

Last night Jeff kept the good times rolling by taking me to the Keg and it was simply lovely. We also watched Alpha, Jeff for the second time, but it’s a gorgeous movie.

Wrote about 350 words yesterday on HOTM.

 

yet more activity

I went to an exercise class for old ladies today and feel pleasantly and pretty evenly tired. It’s the way exercise should be, about moving more easily through space

unless it’s about making yourself big, in which case it’s a dominance through steroids and self discipline kinda thing which is really kinda alienating to me, mostly because I simply don’t have the lack of worldliness that is at bottom the root of all manias to perfect one’s appearance in a range of unhealthy, artificial, expensive, potentially lethal and at times illicit, illegal and ill-advised ways.

Before that I went to the lunch bunch and was thrilled to see Jane, Laura, John, Denis, Dan, of course Peggy who took me and I keep thinking someone else was there – Irene.

Oh lucky us. We talked of shoes and ships etc.

The City of Burnaby, continuing the reign of fucking terror commenced by construction starting in the adjacent lot in May, was cutting and hauling away concrete today to level the sidewalk next door. Poor Buster. He thinks the noise has stopped, but it HAS NOT.

 

Utter steaming piles

JONATHAN FRANZEN’S 10 RULES
FOR NOVELISTS


1.
The reader is a friend, not an adversary, not a spectator.

Allegra sez bullshit.

THE READER IS – unless you’re handing the book to her for free – a person trapped in an exchange with you because of capitalism. The reader buys your words and consumes your words for entertainment. Whether your words stay bought — that is, under your control — is an open question. If you want total control you have no readers. Franzen, having achieved conventional publishing success, seems to have forgotten the market’s role in bringing his privilege to our doorstops.

2.
Fiction that isn’t an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn’t worth writing for anything but money.

Allegra says that Dorothy Dunnett sent that one packing in the sixties, and Jonathan Franzen can go fuck himself.

3.
Never use the word then as a conjunction–we have and for this purpose. Substituting then is the lazy or tone-deaf writer’s non-solution to the problem of too many ands on the page.

ALLEGRA BELLOWS, looks sheepish, yeah, check out any fanfic if you are disbelieving.

4.
Write in third person unless a really distinctive first-person voice offers itself irresistibly.

ALLEGRA SEZ this is advice I mostly take.

5.
When information becomes free and universally accessible, voluminous research for a novel is devalued along with it.

ALLEGRA TESTILY SEZ

Oh no it fucking isn’t. ‘Information’ is not free and universally accessible. THERE ARE STILL BARRIERS TO ENTRY. Research, strangely enough, takes imagination, NOT JUST ACCESS which as I mentioned is not contiguous through human lands.

6.
The most purely autobiographical fiction requires pure invention. Nobody ever wrote a more autobiographical story than The Metamorphosis.

Allegra thinks about her tea getting cold and says

Mmmm, not so sure about this. It sounds good but I suspect there’s no support structure for that elegant idea.

7.
You see more sitting still than chasing after.

Allegra says BUT YOU DON’T CATCH THE IDEAS YOU DON’T CHASE

8.
It’s doubtful that anyone with an Internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.

OKAY YOU PRIVILEGED PIECE OF GARBAGE HUMAN, YOU CAN SHUT THE FUCK UP NOW

9.
Interesting verbs are seldom very interesting.

ALLEGRA SAYS I’m looking forward to antlering Mr. Franzen.

10.
You have to love before you can be relentless.

NOPE. You have to hate. Or be a toddler.

I lurv it when a plan

So last night because I am an entitled jerk I invited myself to Tom and Peggy’s and Cindy came and we ate dinner and sang and played until TEN OCLOCK which is a sign that it’s not a work night.

Tapioca Song

When I Go – we went through it about three times

I’ll Fly Away

Change the Key Again

Mary Ellen Carter

love theme from When I am Dead OF COURSE

Lily’s Lullaby (I cried, Cindy YOU IZ A BASTID)

Emerald Green

there were others but the filkers reading this will get the picture.

Peggy made me a wonderful wonderful spice cake with cream cheese frosting and pecans all over it. Also chicken breast and salad and squash and potatoes (and the woman makes such amazing oven roasted potatoes.)

WHILE WE WERE THERE Juliana emailed Cindy about Conflikt, which is hilarious since part of me going over there to scange a meal was to agitate for everyone to go to Conflikt.

Best birthday week in a while. Did I mention that on Wednesday I had the single best commute so far? Waited for the bus for five minutes; got on the bus, transferred without a wait at New West Station, transferred without a wait at Lougheed, transferred without a wait to the bus at Moody Centre. Including all the walking it was 45 minutes.

Today Peggy and I are going to go to Lunch Bunch and then there’s a drop in fitness class afterward. Busy me!

 

 

Some progress

Wrote a very very hard scene yesterday.

Human sexuality is a miserable thing. About the time we really need to use our brains and speak honestly and clearly to each other about what we’re doing all of the endocrinological stuff that makes sex a) possible and b) scary amounts of fun completely blows your cognitive function into a jelly mold.

I have never in my life gotten into consent as much as Jesse does in that scene. Must be nice to be heteronormative and clueless (WHY YES IT IS)

760 Words yesterday

weekend of rellies

Last night Jeff and I were over at Mike’s… the VR set up sang its siren song and there was pizza.

Still working on the Love Theme from When I Am Dead. I’ll probably learn that I stole it from something, but the best part about being me is that I didn’t steal my temperament. My Scythian ancestors, Api bless them and give them nice tunics for feast days, might hoist one of their disgusting concoctions and nod, if they were ever sober enough to do that while they were in town.

Before that, Keith and I drove back from Victoria in our lovely rented 2018 Corolla which is a beeeeyootiful car and a complete fuckin’ gas hog – 20 bucks to go from Van to Vic and back? I don’t think the car was topped up when I left or and it’s a gas hog.

We saw Cuz Alyssa, Unca Barry, Auntie Jacquie, the parental units, Ontie Mary and of course Keith was there. He moved datura plants, tetris style. The difference between his description and mOm’s I will hold in my heart. (Style, not content.)

Ride back uneventful. this morning’s morning though is definitely the kingdom of daylight…. weather so beautiful and not right. This is November and we should be harboring gloom and sheltering night…

 

 

later

 

god it’s gorgeous out

travel woes

Keith called yesterday wanting to take me to Victoria this weekend but Paul needed his car back when he missed his flight and Keith’s car is in the shop. Jeff needs his vehicle for client requirements and it’s a little late to be renting a car, but there you go.

Anyway, if we don’t turn up it’s not as if we didn’t try.

Work is much better, but I continue to work toward better habits and faster production.

LATER

Keith has rented a car, we’re leaving tomorrow morning, apparently.

 

worst day ever

Yesterday, an 11 hour day not counting the two hours in transit, was the most spectacularly bad day I have ever had at a job. It was busy, I lost my cool, I did stupid things, but I will endeavour to persevere and they can fire me on Thursday, when the new MOA starts, if they take a mind to. In the meantime I’ll keep plugging.

I’m not officially participating in Nanowrimo, the writing contest/encouragement/accountability event which gets people to write novels, but I am working on a destiel fic and I’ve started up on HOTM again so that’s good. Also I’ve managed to retcon my internal fanfic so it now all makes sense, what happened between Jesse and Slider BEFORE Jesse ran off to be a sex worker. It’ll be clunky as hell but real life unfortunately doesn’t come with a great soundtrack and bangin’ dialog…

walkies

soft good brO brO banged on my door when I was napping at 11 yesterday morning to tell me that if I wanted to see my grandson I should get up, so I did. Me and Poppa Paul and Katie and Alex mall walked at Lougheed; I found some more of my favourite soap and some extremely bright safety lights for Katie and Alex. I pushed him around in a little red car that you can get from guest services at Lougheed.

He was really antsy, but we watched some violent racist transphobic Warner Bros cartoons with him and for about ten whole minutes he leaned up into me and cuddled and MY BOCKIT ISS FULLLLL NOW.