Yes, I need to edit this more (I've only been rewriting it for half an hour (ugh!).
"There's always been ships lost to the void. Blamed on navigational error, micro-meteoroids, solar flares... in the days of ships in water they wrote "Here There Be Dragons" at the edges of the maps, and once men made it to the edge, they moved the tag to the in-between the known areas. The big back is all in-between."
This is why I need to write out the crappy first draft and then go back to edit, instead of edit while you go along. Not happy with it, love the feeling behind it. Need to merge the two more.
Oh, and there's a bit about insurance and co-payments. If that shouldn't strike fear in the modern reader, I don't know what could.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
What I Did Friday Night
First off, we didn't get home until around 1:40am. I'm old, that's way too late for an old fogey like me. It's taken me most of the weekend to recoup.
As some of you know, we went to see Jeff Dunham down at the Stambaugh Auditorium in wonderful, scenic, Youngstown.
It was a good show. We went to the 10pm (by the time we found out the 7pm show was mostly sold out). We were up in the gallery, which they hadn't changed the seats from the original wood ones (just a little too short, but at least they had room from side to side, on the floor and in the Balcony they had nice cooshy seats). The show was pretty good. The warm-up guy (The Guitar Guy) took some warming up to, but he ended his set strongly. Then Jeff came out and did his shtick. About half was material we had already seen, another 40% was material he was working on for his Xmas Special (of which, in case you don't know, to be available in late November, early December, must finish shooting sometime in July) or stuff he changed slightly. There were times he brought the Guitar Guy back on stage. And that's when the fun other 10% happened, when the wheels fell off the bus. There were some planned "unplanned" moments, and then there were the real unplanned moments. Which were, IMHO, the most hilarious parts of the show. As Jeff went off script and the show broke down as they both cracked themselves up. Some of the jokes wouldn't make sense unless you were there in the moment, like how Peanut saying, "We'd have to replace him with a midget playing a banjo," brought the show to a screaming halt. Also, having Ackmed talk about how he got tested for Scoliosis, but not for Polio. Hilarious in context. Although there seemed to be a missing bit, and Jeff rushed the final 15 minutes, it was all in all a good show.
Now for the other side. Parking sucked. Well and truly sucked. I figured we'd arrive around 9:10 or so and catch all the people heading out from the first show and be able to score a spot. No luck. The first show didn't let out until around 9:40 or so. All the parking was filled. There were plenty of cops on hand, most of them blocking the entrances to parking lots. Not one of them directing traffic or aiding pedestrians crossing the very congested four-lane road in front of the Stambaugh. So we ended up parking along the road about a 10 minute walk to the Auditorium. Then there was dealing with the usual drunken idiots who think they're God's Gift to the World (why yes, they were mostly in their twenties, how could you guess). And finally the complete lack of planning, crowd control, and way finding. Serious problems, ones that delayed the 10pm show to about 10:35 (and even then many people were not seated yet). I can appreciate that the early show ran long, but really, how hard is it to have people directing the crowd (say like having the ticket takers say, "Oh, you're in the Gallery, that's all the way up, try the back-stairs over on the far opposite side of the building"), watching what's happening, and then making sure everybody gets to their seats? You use volunteers (some of whom were scouts)? It's called a fifteen minute training session. It ain't hard. Then as we left, same numbers of police, and I appreciate them all patrolling around in their cars, still didn't help me not get hit up by the homeless panhandlers (fortunately I still have the skills of having worked downtown Cleveland for five years, yes, that means having ones in my front pocket for easy access, another sign of the bad economy and inflation, they're now asking for $3 and $5), still no directing traffic across the again busy four-lane road.
So it was good fun, but I'll probably not go back to see a show at the Stambaugh again.
As some of you know, we went to see Jeff Dunham down at the Stambaugh Auditorium in wonderful, scenic, Youngstown.
It was a good show. We went to the 10pm (by the time we found out the 7pm show was mostly sold out). We were up in the gallery, which they hadn't changed the seats from the original wood ones (just a little too short, but at least they had room from side to side, on the floor and in the Balcony they had nice cooshy seats). The show was pretty good. The warm-up guy (The Guitar Guy) took some warming up to, but he ended his set strongly. Then Jeff came out and did his shtick. About half was material we had already seen, another 40% was material he was working on for his Xmas Special (of which, in case you don't know, to be available in late November, early December, must finish shooting sometime in July) or stuff he changed slightly. There were times he brought the Guitar Guy back on stage. And that's when the fun other 10% happened, when the wheels fell off the bus. There were some planned "unplanned" moments, and then there were the real unplanned moments. Which were, IMHO, the most hilarious parts of the show. As Jeff went off script and the show broke down as they both cracked themselves up. Some of the jokes wouldn't make sense unless you were there in the moment, like how Peanut saying, "We'd have to replace him with a midget playing a banjo," brought the show to a screaming halt. Also, having Ackmed talk about how he got tested for Scoliosis, but not for Polio. Hilarious in context. Although there seemed to be a missing bit, and Jeff rushed the final 15 minutes, it was all in all a good show.
Now for the other side. Parking sucked. Well and truly sucked. I figured we'd arrive around 9:10 or so and catch all the people heading out from the first show and be able to score a spot. No luck. The first show didn't let out until around 9:40 or so. All the parking was filled. There were plenty of cops on hand, most of them blocking the entrances to parking lots. Not one of them directing traffic or aiding pedestrians crossing the very congested four-lane road in front of the Stambaugh. So we ended up parking along the road about a 10 minute walk to the Auditorium. Then there was dealing with the usual drunken idiots who think they're God's Gift to the World (why yes, they were mostly in their twenties, how could you guess). And finally the complete lack of planning, crowd control, and way finding. Serious problems, ones that delayed the 10pm show to about 10:35 (and even then many people were not seated yet). I can appreciate that the early show ran long, but really, how hard is it to have people directing the crowd (say like having the ticket takers say, "Oh, you're in the Gallery, that's all the way up, try the back-stairs over on the far opposite side of the building"), watching what's happening, and then making sure everybody gets to their seats? You use volunteers (some of whom were scouts)? It's called a fifteen minute training session. It ain't hard. Then as we left, same numbers of police, and I appreciate them all patrolling around in their cars, still didn't help me not get hit up by the homeless panhandlers (fortunately I still have the skills of having worked downtown Cleveland for five years, yes, that means having ones in my front pocket for easy access, another sign of the bad economy and inflation, they're now asking for $3 and $5), still no directing traffic across the again busy four-lane road.
So it was good fun, but I'll probably not go back to see a show at the Stambaugh again.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Desktop Funnerie
So, I finally got to load up that Glen Cook cover as my background. And you know what, whomever did the retouching for the background, learn 1) how to photoshop by the numbers, 2) calibrate your screen. The touch-up was bad. Jumped out at me immediately. I could see your brush strokes. Really. A little color selection, a little level adjustment, rebrushing, correction for JPG artifacts, and we're in business. Okay, I shouldn't be so harsh, they're probably the graduate from many official Photoshop courses (hint, 24% of what they teach in those are bogus and lead to errors and unprintable documents - I know because I had to take some of them, even the masters courses, I should say that the majority of classes by people who actually use Photoshop in the wild were excellent, it's the commercial courses that suck).
And just for giggles, here's my old desktop. That's my back yard last winter.
And just for giggles, here's my old desktop. That's my back yard last winter.
Friday, March 28, 2008
The Wreck of the Marie Fitzpatrick
"At the Space Maritime Rescue they knew they would be second to make first contact, but they would be the ones to report it. There was a running office pool on what they would find; ships on fire, all out war, or interrupt some pomp and circumstance. Nobody had money on the alien eating the ships they would be called to rescue."
Yeah, had a half day, so as I'm driving home at 11:30, the story starts coming again. I really gotta get a voice recorder. As it was I had to pull over a few times to write out lines and ideas. Like how a creature could live in the void (like birds that get their water from their food, it would get it's breathable gases from it's own food).
Yeah, had a half day, so as I'm driving home at 11:30, the story starts coming again. I really gotta get a voice recorder. As it was I had to pull over a few times to write out lines and ideas. Like how a creature could live in the void (like birds that get their water from their food, it would get it's breathable gases from it's own food).
Fanboy Moment of the Day
I know I've linked to it before, if not, here it is again. Tor is developing something new for a second website and have been giving away e-books as a way of luring people in to see what's happening. Previous weeks have included some of my favorite people, Tobias Buckell (Crystal Rain) and John Scalzi (Old Mans War).
This week's offering is Lord of the Isles by David Drake (no writing slouch himself, met him at Marcon a few years ago, but I had fully grasped that writers were people you could have a drink with). Next week’s book is Through the Wolf’s Eyes by Jane Lindskold (whom I've never read).
In addition to the books, the new site is also giving away wallpapers of their covers (art directed by the incomparable Irene Gallo, as a fellow art director I feel qualified to say that). One of this weeks offerings (and both are good) is painting by Raymond Swanland for Glen Cook's A Fortress in Shadow. Which leads me to my fanboy moment of the day.
Glen Cook's books rock. I go on about many of the cool writers I like and collect as much as I can (-not a full list- Clarke, Bradbury, Brust, Bisson, hmm, there seems to be a lot of B's there, especially if you add Buckell). But one of those writers that get short shrift from me, and from much of the literati chatterers is Mr. Cook. And it's a horrible shame. Glen's books, the Black Company series specifically, were recommended to me by a good friend, the same one who got me hooked on Brust (Jim Dugger, if you're out there, I miss talking with you). This was then there were only three books (there are nine now, with an extra in the same world, the series is at an end, it was a good end, not one I foresaw, but very satisfying).
Really, this guy has been as much a formation experience for me, as a writer, as has Bradbury and Brust (I like to think of myself as a mixture of the two, when I'm flattering myself, that is). The first novel I "had" to write (must write, words will eat me) was a direct homage to Cook. It's the one that I posted the first chapter on (see link on right-hand bar). It's the one I definitely want to go back to and finish (and the one that I agreed I had to set aside until I was a better writer).
I haven't read his "hard boiled fantasy detective" series, yet. I have some of the Instrumentalities of the Night books on my shelf waiting to be read (they speak to me, yes my precious, they do whisper in the dark).
So, when I saw that I could download the art that covers his books, I just giggled. My inner fanboy got to come out and play. The Black Company series is military fantasy, and he does it well. It is not for the faint hearted, his writing has a strong musculature underneath it. It ain't Tolkein or Brooks (there's those "B" authors again, what's up with that?). Why hasn't this guy won a Grand Master award yet, I don't know. Everybody I've talked to that have read his books, when his name is mentioned gets a smile in their eyes. He's that good. When he shows up at conventions, there's a whisper that runs through the crowds online, "He's going to be there." If you like Sword and Sorcery, with a focus on the Sword part, go read him. His characters and characterizations are very strong.
This week's offering is Lord of the Isles by David Drake (no writing slouch himself, met him at Marcon a few years ago, but I had fully grasped that writers were people you could have a drink with). Next week’s book is Through the Wolf’s Eyes by Jane Lindskold (whom I've never read).
In addition to the books, the new site is also giving away wallpapers of their covers (art directed by the incomparable Irene Gallo, as a fellow art director I feel qualified to say that). One of this weeks offerings (and both are good) is painting by Raymond Swanland for Glen Cook's A Fortress in Shadow. Which leads me to my fanboy moment of the day.
Glen Cook's books rock. I go on about many of the cool writers I like and collect as much as I can (-not a full list- Clarke, Bradbury, Brust, Bisson, hmm, there seems to be a lot of B's there, especially if you add Buckell). But one of those writers that get short shrift from me, and from much of the literati chatterers is Mr. Cook. And it's a horrible shame. Glen's books, the Black Company series specifically, were recommended to me by a good friend, the same one who got me hooked on Brust (Jim Dugger, if you're out there, I miss talking with you). This was then there were only three books (there are nine now, with an extra in the same world, the series is at an end, it was a good end, not one I foresaw, but very satisfying).
Really, this guy has been as much a formation experience for me, as a writer, as has Bradbury and Brust (I like to think of myself as a mixture of the two, when I'm flattering myself, that is). The first novel I "had" to write (must write, words will eat me) was a direct homage to Cook. It's the one that I posted the first chapter on (see link on right-hand bar). It's the one I definitely want to go back to and finish (and the one that I agreed I had to set aside until I was a better writer).
I haven't read his "hard boiled fantasy detective" series, yet. I have some of the Instrumentalities of the Night books on my shelf waiting to be read (they speak to me, yes my precious, they do whisper in the dark).
So, when I saw that I could download the art that covers his books, I just giggled. My inner fanboy got to come out and play. The Black Company series is military fantasy, and he does it well. It is not for the faint hearted, his writing has a strong musculature underneath it. It ain't Tolkein or Brooks (there's those "B" authors again, what's up with that?). Why hasn't this guy won a Grand Master award yet, I don't know. Everybody I've talked to that have read his books, when his name is mentioned gets a smile in their eyes. He's that good. When he shows up at conventions, there's a whisper that runs through the crowds online, "He's going to be there." If you like Sword and Sorcery, with a focus on the Sword part, go read him. His characters and characterizations are very strong.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Cattle Call
All around cool guy Nathan is setting up a round robin writing exercise. And he's lassoing as many people as he can. Sorry, Nathan, I can't do it (I have too many other invites waiting for my attention, like Matt W's), but I can evangelize for it. He has some interesting twists to the standard shared story meme, like changing one major plot element. That could make for an interesting reading/writing thing. Although, most of those stories tend to end up with an "and then the dinosaurs ate them all" kind of conclusion.
At the last Confusion there were a few writers who had recently completed collaborations (hey, Tobias). Those kinds of projects have always thrown me. I have no compulsions about sharing ideas (see name of blog or "Da Rules" if you don't know), but writing together right now is way far out of my skill set. I guess as a ersatz art director from back when titles in my day thing used to actually mean something, I'm used to assigning work that I've thought I've been pretty damn precise about my instructions (here's a damn sketch, follow it), but have always been surprised at what comes back. At first it was pretty hard to accept others interpretations of both the project and my "exacting descriptions and instructions on what I want to see, damnit." But then I mellowed out, although I'm a stickler for production values (really, I'm a rat-assed bastard for them. When I say use style sheets, I mean uses the fargin' style sheets). So I was really interested in how they handled it. For some it was a "I write one line, they write the next" kind of thing. It still confuses me.
At the last Confusion there were a few writers who had recently completed collaborations (hey, Tobias). Those kinds of projects have always thrown me. I have no compulsions about sharing ideas (see name of blog or "Da Rules" if you don't know), but writing together right now is way far out of my skill set. I guess as a ersatz art director from back when titles in my day thing used to actually mean something, I'm used to assigning work that I've thought I've been pretty damn precise about my instructions (here's a damn sketch, follow it), but have always been surprised at what comes back. At first it was pretty hard to accept others interpretations of both the project and my "exacting descriptions and instructions on what I want to see, damnit." But then I mellowed out, although I'm a stickler for production values (really, I'm a rat-assed bastard for them. When I say use style sheets, I mean uses the fargin' style sheets). So I was really interested in how they handled it. For some it was a "I write one line, they write the next" kind of thing. It still confuses me.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
To Thine Own Self Be True
One of the things that keeps repeating in much of the writing advice is to find the time of day you're best at (for writing, natch). Unfortunately for me my major times are at 6:30 am (when I'm in the middle of the commute), 10:30am to 1:00pm (which might work to write over lunch, if I actually had a lunch, that was negotiated away by our union many years ago), and then at 10:30pm to 2:00am (when I'm trying to sleep).
For the 6:30am I mostly get single lines. So I try to remember the things I think of on the way into work, and write out the notes when I get there. Mostly things like, "a roosting flock of lights create an oasis of harsh day." Goes with a story that's been long in the formation stage about drilling on the arctic circle. This story started with the line, "It starts in the back of your head, in the far autumn corners where the dry wind rustles November leaves of forgotten things."
Then this mid morning my brain starts working on what it must have been grinding on for the past few days, from a report about a ship lost at sea in the Bearing. So what about ship wrecks in space? Of the crew, 46 were picked up, 44 are expected to survive (two have already died) and one person was lost at sea. What do you call a person lost in space (that phrase it too close to the show name)? Lost to the void. While it's a SF trope to have rescue pods, doesn't it seem more likely that it'll be individual survival suits, just like those who ply the deathly cold waters for their trade? So imagine bodies in bright red environment suits, floating against the stars. And just like sailors in the suits, how long can they survive. Depending on the temperature of the water, those sailors don't have long.
So how would an "Space Coast Guard" function? What's the space equivalent of "losing your rudder" and "taking on water"? Hence a full page of scribbleings. What are ships doing? Where are they? How could the space coast guard get there fast enough? And just what disabled the ship?
Ah, here there be dragons.
(said like the old commercial, "Oh, it's a Subaru") Oh, it's a Cthulhu story!
"It was a bad day, waiting for the tunnel to finish. Opening a custom worm hole, even a short travel one, even with their top of the line equipment, was hard work. A rescue worm hole couldn't afford to be placed in the safe zones, far outside any known mass. EWHs were always danger close operations. You might open the other end right through a survivor or in the only pressure zone on a wrecked ship.
"There were 48 men and women eight light hours out. Each in their own survival suit, touching the void just six inches from their skin. Or that was the hope. It would take another (?) hours to drill the hole, if they were lucky. It was a week until the closest ship could arrive on station. Their suits were good for 26 hours. They had already used eight and a half hours of that.
"They were using data that was eight hours old. "
That's just a sample of the notes I wrote out.
Another Cthulhu story.
"The station bugaboo/myth was that the space coast guard would probably be the initial team to make first contact. They have scenarios about how it would be, ships on fire, war, pomp and circumstance, vulcan mind melds. Nobody expected it would be an alien eating the entire ship and making human-sicles out of the crew."
For the 6:30am I mostly get single lines. So I try to remember the things I think of on the way into work, and write out the notes when I get there. Mostly things like, "a roosting flock of lights create an oasis of harsh day." Goes with a story that's been long in the formation stage about drilling on the arctic circle. This story started with the line, "It starts in the back of your head, in the far autumn corners where the dry wind rustles November leaves of forgotten things."
Then this mid morning my brain starts working on what it must have been grinding on for the past few days, from a report about a ship lost at sea in the Bearing. So what about ship wrecks in space? Of the crew, 46 were picked up, 44 are expected to survive (two have already died) and one person was lost at sea. What do you call a person lost in space (that phrase it too close to the show name)? Lost to the void. While it's a SF trope to have rescue pods, doesn't it seem more likely that it'll be individual survival suits, just like those who ply the deathly cold waters for their trade? So imagine bodies in bright red environment suits, floating against the stars. And just like sailors in the suits, how long can they survive. Depending on the temperature of the water, those sailors don't have long.
So how would an "Space Coast Guard" function? What's the space equivalent of "losing your rudder" and "taking on water"? Hence a full page of scribbleings. What are ships doing? Where are they? How could the space coast guard get there fast enough? And just what disabled the ship?
Ah, here there be dragons.
(said like the old commercial, "Oh, it's a Subaru") Oh, it's a Cthulhu story!
"It was a bad day, waiting for the tunnel to finish. Opening a custom worm hole, even a short travel one, even with their top of the line equipment, was hard work. A rescue worm hole couldn't afford to be placed in the safe zones, far outside any known mass. EWHs were always danger close operations. You might open the other end right through a survivor or in the only pressure zone on a wrecked ship.
"There were 48 men and women eight light hours out. Each in their own survival suit, touching the void just six inches from their skin. Or that was the hope. It would take another (?) hours to drill the hole, if they were lucky. It was a week until the closest ship could arrive on station. Their suits were good for 26 hours. They had already used eight and a half hours of that.
"They were using data that was eight hours old. "
That's just a sample of the notes I wrote out.
Another Cthulhu story.
"The station bugaboo/myth was that the space coast guard would probably be the initial team to make first contact. They have scenarios about how it would be, ships on fire, war, pomp and circumstance, vulcan mind melds. Nobody expected it would be an alien eating the entire ship and making human-sicles out of the crew."
Whispering it from the roof tops
Received something very nice in the mail today. Something that I'm not sure I can share yet. Not a sale, or an invite, but good news none-the-less. It certainly made me dance a little jig.
I'm pretty sure the person involved read this blog at least once before and left a comment about "readin' my blogroll and stealin' all my 's'es." You know who you are, you know what you said, thanks for the info. It made my week. It really did. Thanks.
Another step. Another milestone passed.
Soon the world will be mine! Oh, wait, that's the other plan.
I'm pretty sure the person involved read this blog at least once before and left a comment about "readin' my blogroll and stealin' all my 's'es." You know who you are, you know what you said, thanks for the info. It made my week. It really did. Thanks.
Another step. Another milestone passed.
Soon the world will be mine! Oh, wait, that's the other plan.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Novel Up, the new catch-phrase
So, this guy in the writers group I belong to sent this email out with this subject line. He was saying that he had uploaded his fresh novel to our site and we all should go read it, but it got me to thinking. Sure, the novel is up, go get it. Kind of like "Batter Up!" (pictures in my mind of little league, playing outfield on the dusty fields of Gibbsboro, NJ, singing, "hey, batter, batter, swing, batter, batter, SWING!" - hey , Rog, thinking about you right this minute)
Then there's also the version of "Lawyer Up." I think I've done that already, or do I need to post another picture of my bookshelves to prove it? Yes, I've got more books to read that I have time (typed that first, "life left" but figured that was too pessimistic). I've got lots o' books, and I want lots more. There's the new Elric novel, Jim Hines is pushing out books and I'm falling behind, Glen Cook has both reprints and new stuff, and then Steven Brust will have a new one soon as well. Heck, I may have to get fired from the day thing to just get caught up.
I'm going to take it as a mantra, though. Novel Up. As in "Cowboy Up." Maybe put that on tape on the front of my notebook. Time to Novel Up. Put your big-boy pants on and saddle up (there's another version) to the keyboard and just friggin' type the thing.
At first I thought it was the crazy schedule that knocked me out of writing, and it probably was. But I think I have a handle on that, and the day job has cut back a lot (yes, there's still overtime, but not stupid overtime). The night thing has calmed down (I think, I still have my suspicions about long simmering issues and under-currents) to a manageable fire drill (there' still outstanding issues, but I think I'm in front of the ball now). The freelance stuff I need to get working on, but that's also manageable (for the moment). Early this year I think it was the depression and my not being willing to face the gremlins one more time during the day. Now it's the fear. The fear that I'm wasting time, or won't be good, or just won't be able to pull it off. I will face my fears (I have before). "Fear is the mind killer..." (sure, it's cliche and Herbert over uses it, but it's still true).
I've pulled out my stories that I need to edit, and I look at them, and they stare me down. I would just let them be, but I think there's some gold in that pile. Maybe I need to start with the small "Interview" (need better title, first edit). It's less than 1K words. I can do that.
So, time to Novel Up. All you all (or most of you all) are doing it. Maybe this is just me in my little-boy pants running after the crowd yelling, "Wait up, guys, come on, wait up."
edit I have been writing this post on and off since this morning, I've just re-edited the previous paragraph, and here are my thoughts about it... But I've wanted to do this, I need to do this. This is just part of the fear, the gremlins getting more clever with their cutting remarks. They're saying, "why do you want this, is this just about ego, about wanting fame, about being better, about belonging." No, damn it, this is because the story will kill me if I don't get it out. This is a part of ending the "destructive behavior." Glad you could be along for it.
Novel Up, Buchheit. Time to get it going.
Then there's also the version of "Lawyer Up." I think I've done that already, or do I need to post another picture of my bookshelves to prove it? Yes, I've got more books to read that I have time (typed that first, "life left" but figured that was too pessimistic). I've got lots o' books, and I want lots more. There's the new Elric novel, Jim Hines is pushing out books and I'm falling behind, Glen Cook has both reprints and new stuff, and then Steven Brust will have a new one soon as well. Heck, I may have to get fired from the day thing to just get caught up.
I'm going to take it as a mantra, though. Novel Up. As in "Cowboy Up." Maybe put that on tape on the front of my notebook. Time to Novel Up. Put your big-boy pants on and saddle up (there's another version) to the keyboard and just friggin' type the thing.
At first I thought it was the crazy schedule that knocked me out of writing, and it probably was. But I think I have a handle on that, and the day job has cut back a lot (yes, there's still overtime, but not stupid overtime). The night thing has calmed down (I think, I still have my suspicions about long simmering issues and under-currents) to a manageable fire drill (there' still outstanding issues, but I think I'm in front of the ball now). The freelance stuff I need to get working on, but that's also manageable (for the moment). Early this year I think it was the depression and my not being willing to face the gremlins one more time during the day. Now it's the fear. The fear that I'm wasting time, or won't be good, or just won't be able to pull it off. I will face my fears (I have before). "Fear is the mind killer..." (sure, it's cliche and Herbert over uses it, but it's still true).
I've pulled out my stories that I need to edit, and I look at them, and they stare me down. I would just let them be, but I think there's some gold in that pile. Maybe I need to start with the small "Interview" (need better title, first edit). It's less than 1K words. I can do that.
So, time to Novel Up. All you all (or most of you all) are doing it. Maybe this is just me in my little-boy pants running after the crowd yelling, "Wait up, guys, come on, wait up."
edit I have been writing this post on and off since this morning, I've just re-edited the previous paragraph, and here are my thoughts about it... But I've wanted to do this, I need to do this. This is just part of the fear, the gremlins getting more clever with their cutting remarks. They're saying, "why do you want this, is this just about ego, about wanting fame, about being better, about belonging." No, damn it, this is because the story will kill me if I don't get it out. This is a part of ending the "destructive behavior." Glad you could be along for it.
Novel Up, Buchheit. Time to get it going.
Writings in the Wild
Hey look! Matt Mitchell is posting his novel, Modern Day Mythica on his blog (Edit Matt informs me he's posting his first five chapters as a proof of concept, so I suggest you go read and if you have comments and feedback to leave comments on his blog). Another Pixel-stained Technopeasant joins the ranks. And just like Nathan and Jim Wright, it's a serialization. (shout out to Dave for pointing out before I went and looked)
Time keeps on slipping into the future
A benefit of the time change is that I get to experience the wonders of the approaching dawn all over again. Today was an excellent commute into work. During a long stretch of rural 2-lane highway I was treated to seeing the first tentative rays of approaching dawn rub the eastern sky into a lighter blue. The first light clarion call for roosters to get to their positions. At the same time, on the other side of the road, the waning moon lit the snow with flowing blue light.
I was reminded of when I would fly for a former job (at least twice a week), one of the joys was flying right at sunset. If you were traveling in the right direction you could see the shadow of the earth bringing night to the ground. It could be bright sunlight in the cabin, but below was in darkness. In some places you could see the delineating line where the air was in day or night. I would frequently stop reading to observe its passage. So here I was, at least a decade down the line, and I was seeing it in reverse. The sky overhead was in daylight, but the ground I was on was still in night. The lingering snow and hoar frost on trees just added to the spectacle. Hope you all have moments like that.
I was reminded of when I would fly for a former job (at least twice a week), one of the joys was flying right at sunset. If you were traveling in the right direction you could see the shadow of the earth bringing night to the ground. It could be bright sunlight in the cabin, but below was in darkness. In some places you could see the delineating line where the air was in day or night. I would frequently stop reading to observe its passage. So here I was, at least a decade down the line, and I was seeing it in reverse. The sky overhead was in daylight, but the ground I was on was still in night. The lingering snow and hoar frost on trees just added to the spectacle. Hope you all have moments like that.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Medical Update
Had an appointment with my doctor today. Bad news, I'm up 4 pounds since Xmas. Well, that's one of the ways I knew I was in the big "D", I was over eating and drinking too much pop. I've worked down to less pop, and now I either can tell I'm over eating, or I'm able to stop myself.
The day thing is starting up their wellness program and I've been debating if I should start it. Last year was their first attempt, and I was just way too busy. Our human resources person has been bugging me about it, but then, that's her job (to get people in so our insurance doesn't cost us so much). Much of what they offer I've already been doing with my own doctors. So the decision is, should I just continue to do this on my own, or maybe more in the open and play for prizes?
Yes, we talked about medication for the big "D". He agrees that I am on the way up, that I am able to stop the destructive behaviors and I can identify what is happening. However he did say, that if I felt out of control or didn't see progress that I should call him or my main doctor.
So, another appointment in three months.
The day thing is starting up their wellness program and I've been debating if I should start it. Last year was their first attempt, and I was just way too busy. Our human resources person has been bugging me about it, but then, that's her job (to get people in so our insurance doesn't cost us so much). Much of what they offer I've already been doing with my own doctors. So the decision is, should I just continue to do this on my own, or maybe more in the open and play for prizes?
Yes, we talked about medication for the big "D". He agrees that I am on the way up, that I am able to stop the destructive behaviors and I can identify what is happening. However he did say, that if I felt out of control or didn't see progress that I should call him or my main doctor.
So, another appointment in three months.
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