Where I ramble on about writing and reading speculative fiction, baking and cooking, and anything else that strikes me.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
"Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail." - John Donne
As I seem to be trending blog posts on Tuesday, here we are, although I forgot to upload my pictures as I couldn't get up early enough for the gym - the goslings and the weekend trip will have to wait.
Another 1k words on the SF short today including a lot of deleting. Currently, it sits at 4,148 words. Both good and ugly things are happening in it, writing-wise, and I'm trying to let the ugly alone until at least the second draft; so far, the smoothing out I've tried to do has resulted in even more awkward dialogue and choppy, unhappy women. But there's a lot of firsts for me in this one: a same-sex relationship, a Lovecraft/Kiernan-inspired monster, and a barely-oxygenated planet, so I'm cutting myself some slack.
I started Barker's Books of Blood last night - I can't wait for more. Also, still working my way through the Datlow anthology, but spending the weekend in Houston took a good chunk of reading time away. The good news: more thyroid meds & progesterone, so hopefully that will help!
Yesterday I found a tick on my ribcage while I was changing for a run. I haven't had a tick on me since I was about twelve years old - us kids used to get at least one a summer, maybe more, from the woods, but I wasn't impressed at all, so I drove home as quickly as I could for John to remove it. As I tried to keep from panicking that there was a parasitic creature wedging its head inside me, I realized that I had plenty of blood. In fact, the little guy saw me as a warm, useful habitat that offered nutrition and safety (because if it had known what I intended for it, would it really have latched on?) What if I named it? It could be a fantastic story: the woman and her pet tick. (Although a more original title would be necessary.)
The story ended when John pulled it out with the tweezers and flushed it.
We watched the second season of Dollhouse : refreshing in that there were less "What is the Dollhouse?" and "Why does the Dollhouse exist?" questions, that drove me batshit crazy, and a few great oh shit moments that we didn't expect. The post-apocalyptic ending, though....meh. I felt a little let down.
Speaking of oh shit moments, I made the mistake (or was it?) of looking up what happens in Game of Thrones. Those are some big oh shit moments coming up.
I wish Clarion would get here faster.
Another 1k words on the SF short today including a lot of deleting. Currently, it sits at 4,148 words. Both good and ugly things are happening in it, writing-wise, and I'm trying to let the ugly alone until at least the second draft; so far, the smoothing out I've tried to do has resulted in even more awkward dialogue and choppy, unhappy women. But there's a lot of firsts for me in this one: a same-sex relationship, a Lovecraft/Kiernan-inspired monster, and a barely-oxygenated planet, so I'm cutting myself some slack.
I started Barker's Books of Blood last night - I can't wait for more. Also, still working my way through the Datlow anthology, but spending the weekend in Houston took a good chunk of reading time away. The good news: more thyroid meds & progesterone, so hopefully that will help!
Yesterday I found a tick on my ribcage while I was changing for a run. I haven't had a tick on me since I was about twelve years old - us kids used to get at least one a summer, maybe more, from the woods, but I wasn't impressed at all, so I drove home as quickly as I could for John to remove it. As I tried to keep from panicking that there was a parasitic creature wedging its head inside me, I realized that I had plenty of blood. In fact, the little guy saw me as a warm, useful habitat that offered nutrition and safety (because if it had known what I intended for it, would it really have latched on?) What if I named it? It could be a fantastic story: the woman and her pet tick. (Although a more original title would be necessary.)
The story ended when John pulled it out with the tweezers and flushed it.
We watched the second season of Dollhouse : refreshing in that there were less "What is the Dollhouse?" and "Why does the Dollhouse exist?" questions, that drove me batshit crazy, and a few great oh shit moments that we didn't expect. The post-apocalyptic ending, though....meh. I felt a little let down.
Speaking of oh shit moments, I made the mistake (or was it?) of looking up what happens in Game of Thrones. Those are some big oh shit moments coming up.
I wish Clarion would get here faster.
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