Category: Writing

I got Alex by myself for three whole house the day before yesterday and it was amazingly…. tiring.

I’m continuing to work on the Alex Jumping song. The expression on his face when I start to sing it is worth a bucket of gold.

He finally got to play Xenon for as long as he wanted to, which was at least half an hour. He used to be scared of it but now he loves it. I took video of him playing but the file’s so big I haven’t been able to email it anywhere, I’m probably going to have to stick it on Google drive or something.

I also took him out to the park and pushed him almost as much as he wanted in the swings and got an idea for a poem while I was pushing him.

Jeff and I are going to be working on final cuts and then posting Upsun. I’d be more excited if my eyelids weren’t stuck shut.

Stellar meal at Mike’s last night, cod with smashed potatoes and onions and bok choi. NOMz.

Not much writing… I’m sort of in a strange mood.

My most important interaction with him was getting him back onto the sofa when he partially fell off it in his sleep (feet down, like a sensible chap). Packed 7 boxes for Sue, which sounds trivial, but they were knickknacks, so kinda not.

Paul was apparently a true champ yesterday. I got to help with the last move so I dodge this one, works for me, this is viz Katie’s move. Frequent moves are horrible.

I did shit and wrote words yesterday but mostly what I did was wander around in the sun, bedazzled. Thirty years from now that’s the glint I want, the sun that finally penetrated my flesh and got into my bones after this stupid winter, which only just felt like it stopped. That is the remembrance. That and thinking I’d lost my sunglasses when they were on my head, and oh my.

about 100 words on HOTM. It’s okay, I’m thinking about Lara and her mom in the background.

IT WAS AN ALEX DAY YESTERDAY. Katie’s moved in, temporarily, with her papa. Paul barbecued halal chicken and it was so clucking good it would BLOW YOUR MIND. Watching Keith play with Alex filled my heart up. Walked back home with Paul, laughing and talking as one does when one has had a family evening. Hour and a half on the phone with a friend as well… it’s always lovely when you don’t run out of things to talk about, but sleep impinged…

I was terrified (bowels loosening scared) by a noise around the house this morning and it was just a flicker banging on the roof right above my window.

Took out the trash, with Jeff being gone and all, it won’t take itself out. There’s a joke in there somewhere, maybe.

One of my favourite actors just put up a website for the first time and the bio section is so cute, so incredibly cute. He fell in love with his wife when he was sixteen, and he’s in his forties now, so when he says “I wish I’d fallen in love with her earlier” it just makes you think about things like … well I think about my fOlks, who’ve said similar things. Happily married people make me happy, cause there’s just so damned little of it.

Something nice happened to me that I can’t talk about. I am very lucky in my friends.

The family buffet is going to live here for a while; it means rearranging the LR somewhat.

I’ve written 2500 words today, but don’t worry, there’s some HOTM in there.

One to get schnacks around three in the morning, and the other with Paul in Robert Burnaby Park just before sunset. We sat on the back deck and drank beer after, and I played him what I’ve worked up of the Zevon tune “My Shit’s Fucked Up” which I personally think I do a fucking amazing job on.

2500 words yesterday but it was a fan fic. It is of the genre slow burn and this one is not going to have much sex in it, it’s more a character study. Fortunately I’m just editing up the 2K on HOTM I’m sending mOm.

Margot is clingy as hell these past few days. Jeff’s door is always open, but she’s not snoozing on his chair like she usually does when he leaves.

TOO MUCH INFORMATION, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY DISGUSTED

I just tooted, and Margot purred louder to try to drown it out. SUCH IS MY LIFE.

1201 word so far on a new chapter and I suspect there’s more to come. brO got stuck in a ferry lineup according to a terse communiqué.

Called Dave, ran the dishwasher, read some more of the library books. John Scalzi is a most entertaining writer. Played Otto – Here They Come and In The Lineup for the Ferry, since both seemed apropos. Or aproposterous. Possibly both.

later

I napped! I am such a rebel. I hope to write some more as soon as I hit publish.

For some reason my squirrel brain is very unhappy with me pantsing my most recent book, so I’m going to take a day to sculpt some straws into a load-bearing object. We shall see.

Mike invited me out for a lamb dinner and I of course said YES PLEASE ME HONGRY.

Every once in a while I flash on Alex laughing while I sang him a song. MEMORIES can be very beautiful things, rather than the scabbed set of assholes usually besetting me.

View post on imgur.com

A horrifying picture, right? Right pOP????

So this is what my friends said IN RESPONSE TO THE ABOVE NOTED PIC (Shirley is a writer among many other things I know through fandom and Kevin and Rob are (as memorialized here for YEARS) former coworkers.)

Shirley Meier Oh HELL no!

Kevin MacDonald Wrenching photo

Rob Prior It doesn’t turn my crank.

Kevin MacDonald Rob Prior shocking!

Rob Prior Don’t be short with me…

Kevin MacDonald Rob Prior Just ratcheting up my humour

Rob Prior Socket to me!

Kevin MacDonald Rob Prior I am currently working on that

Rob Prior I am powerless to stop you.

Kevin MacDonald Rob Prior Its not a deal breaker

Rob Prior It might be grounds for complaint.

Kevin MacDonald Try to remain neutral in the issue

Rob Prior I’m sensing a little resistance.

Allegra Sloman Well my ohmies I hate to break the circuit here but these electrifying puns are really fusing my attention.

Rob Prior Uh-oh… It’s a re-volt.

Kevin MacDonald It hertz to hear you say that

og og og make it staaaahp!!!!

This weather is rude… overcast and yet humid.

Worked on something else instead.

I’m supposed to give blood around noon today, hurrah.

I can feel that there will be more later. I am happy about my level of productivity, it is increasing, with little gaps, but no problems. I am pantsing it. I have no idea what is going to happen next, or even what the major conflicts are going to be. I am perfectly fine with this. I have invented lovely, competent, kind characters, with lots and lots of character flaws, and they will get into plenty of trouble without any help from me, merely navigating an ordinary day.

Someone on facebook said that with autonomous cars soon there will be country songs including that your truck left you along with your girlfriend and dog. To which someone added My truck left me and ran me over, and then I said:

My truck left me, run me down, cleaned out my bank account, trashed me virally and indelibly on social media, and then texted me about maybe having a threesome with Thomas the Tank engine on pay per view.

total word count for the day 949. Quite pleased.

Very hard for me to be productive when I spent so much time with the fam yesterday – and I crashed early again. Staying awake after 6 pm requires stern measures.  

Also, when I’m not making Alex laugh his face off while waiting in the car, I’m filled with anger and sadness about something I can’t talk about in public. I am very glad I have friends who respond to my phone calls. Some of you know already what’s going on, and the situation continues, it’s non-trivial — but also non-fatal — and I imagine I’ll suck it up eventually.

I wrote a little ditty for Alex:

Jumping on the bed/Jumping on the bed/Here comes Alex jumping on the bed

Don’t fall down and bump    your    head! (Everything slows down)

Here comes Alex jumping on the bed!

 

So he was stuck in the car seat and I sang

Jumping on the seat/Jumping on the seat/Here comes Alex jumping on the seat

He wants something      goood     to      eat! (Everything slows down, we bang out the rhythm on the doors and then go slurp slurp  slurp shoving our hands in our mouths and making faces)

Here comes Alex jumping on the seat!

 

 

Longing doesn’t butter parsnips, so I’d better get back to writing. I’m in the mood for angsty fanfic rather than progressive settlement of the solar system, doe; brain damage as a plot bunny (how jolly.)

 

TLDR Fuck my life at least I have a grandson.

Nothing like typing 540 words and backspacing over them. I could turn the post private, but as I discussed with mOm the other day the ability to forget things is actually a feature, even though it frequently doesn’t feel like it.

Writing proceeds. Went for a nice long walk into New West in the rain yesterday. Quite warm and not windy, but not the most pleasant of days for June in Vancouver, although complaining about that won’t help either.

I’m finally spinning up to speed again (I’m also parallel writing a fanfic which is a technical exercise on re-using story elements, stacked differently, a sort of Cloud Atlas-style porny ice cream sandwich, which I’m enjoying. And it, too, is problematic, but hey, disabled people have sex lives and representation matters.)

Sixers who ‘live original’ have conversations once — and then stop. Sixers who’ve been hanging around human beings tell the same stories over and over again. and…. I just wrote another 500 words. Inbound, mOm. Nereus gets some help….

I’m leaving the opening words in a big pile hoping the strongest will come to the top.

Off for brekky and then a quick shop. I NEED MOAR CHEESE.