I definitely did something new today. I admit, I was kinda burned out from the fire - mwhaha - and the lack of routine and the total drudgery of the workout routine that I did have, so I didn't work out, like really workout, for two weeks. Sure, I played tennis once or twice, went for some long walks, went for a swim in Whistler, but unless the sweat is pouring out of me, and I feel like Guantanamo Bay would be a better fate than the one I'm imposing on my body by my workout, then I'm not working out. So by today, I was absolutely excited to workout.
Usually, when I workout, it's because a) I want to lose weight and b) I want to be healthy. Though I will admit I'm feeling lumpier than usual, and so recognize the need and desire to get back on the weight loss wagon, today, I worked out for neither of those reasons. Today, I kicked my own ass on the treadmill and the weight room because I wanted to. And no, that's not some messed up self-masochism. I wanted to feel my muscles exhausted, I wanted to pant for breath, I wanted to burn. Okay, that sounds kinda pervy. Or, like I'm too stupid to figure out that great sex would provide the effects described above. Nope, not stupid. But, unfortunately for me cause I'm lazy and sex is easier than a hard workout, sex and a hard workout just don't produce the same endorphins.
My workout today was everything I hoped it'd be. I was so damn happy to be able to work out, that I had the opportunity to do it. I ran harder than I've run in at least six months, my resistance training was challenging and kept my heart rate up in the training zone, and I had to walk home from the gym on wobbly legs. It was fucking awesome.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Getting away, just because we can/should/need to and not feeling guilty about it
Let me tell you, folks, that's a new one for me. Usually, when I get away, my life has gotten stressful to the point that if I don't go away, things in my brain will start to crumble and break. This time, I recognized the stress before it got to the stale-cookie-like crumbling level. See previous post regarding fire.
Our good friends Mike, Stacey, David and Jenny got us a weekend at their condo in Whistler for a wedding present, and Chris and I both agreed that now was the time to use it. We left after work on Friday, and had a kind of harrowing drive through the rain and construction-confused roads, but got to Whistler safely at about dinner time that night. We had a nice dead-animal dinner at the Keg, came back to the condo, and enjoyed the heated outdoor pool and jacuzzi. That was QUITE nice. Saturday we did some hiking, shopping, and brunching. It's absolutely gorgeous up there this time of year - the trees are all turning, and everything was green and yellow and red, against a bright blue sky. We got home early Sunday afternoon, and spent it putting our house back together. Between the mini-vacation and just having our living space back in order, my brain and body and soul felt a helluva lot better.
Usually, after a trip like this where I spent too much money eating out and gas driving and twice as much on a new memory card as I would have at home because I'm a moron and left my other memory card in the computer, I am wracked with guilt - I should have spent this money elsewhere, I shouldn't have wasted, etc. This time, I was like, "Yeah. We needed that. It was good."
So... we're going to Vegas in November. The Grand Canyon is kind of close to there. I really want to go, but since we're only there for four days, I don't want to drive. So a friend (a much wealthier friend) suggested a helicopter tour. Mike looked it up (he and Stace and a bunch of others are also going to Vegas in November) and couldn't find any for less than $300 per person. My eyeballs almost fell out of my head. I started making excuses for why it wouldn't work, which really boiled down to the fact that I'd feel guilty for spending the money. Then I thought... when will you ever get the chance to see the Grand Canyon from the sky, and land in the middle of one of the crevasses? What if you NEVER get the chance to do that again? And I decided in that moment that Chris and I are going to do it, without guilt, because experiences are worth a helluva lot more than material shit is.
Please remind me of this magical thinking mindset if I can't afford groceries in December. Thanks.
Our good friends Mike, Stacey, David and Jenny got us a weekend at their condo in Whistler for a wedding present, and Chris and I both agreed that now was the time to use it. We left after work on Friday, and had a kind of harrowing drive through the rain and construction-confused roads, but got to Whistler safely at about dinner time that night. We had a nice dead-animal dinner at the Keg, came back to the condo, and enjoyed the heated outdoor pool and jacuzzi. That was QUITE nice. Saturday we did some hiking, shopping, and brunching. It's absolutely gorgeous up there this time of year - the trees are all turning, and everything was green and yellow and red, against a bright blue sky. We got home early Sunday afternoon, and spent it putting our house back together. Between the mini-vacation and just having our living space back in order, my brain and body and soul felt a helluva lot better.
Usually, after a trip like this where I spent too much money eating out and gas driving and twice as much on a new memory card as I would have at home because I'm a moron and left my other memory card in the computer, I am wracked with guilt - I should have spent this money elsewhere, I shouldn't have wasted, etc. This time, I was like, "Yeah. We needed that. It was good."
So... we're going to Vegas in November. The Grand Canyon is kind of close to there. I really want to go, but since we're only there for four days, I don't want to drive. So a friend (a much wealthier friend) suggested a helicopter tour. Mike looked it up (he and Stace and a bunch of others are also going to Vegas in November) and couldn't find any for less than $300 per person. My eyeballs almost fell out of my head. I started making excuses for why it wouldn't work, which really boiled down to the fact that I'd feel guilty for spending the money. Then I thought... when will you ever get the chance to see the Grand Canyon from the sky, and land in the middle of one of the crevasses? What if you NEVER get the chance to do that again? And I decided in that moment that Chris and I are going to do it, without guilt, because experiences are worth a helluva lot more than material shit is.
Please remind me of this magical thinking mindset if I can't afford groceries in December. Thanks.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
2-? Lots of Stuff
So I haven't been posting regularly. That's what happens when you procrastinate. By that, I mean this: I procrastinated putting up new posts, thinking I could just get to it, you know, whenever, the next day or the next day. And then OUR FREAKING HOUSE CAUGHT FIRE. We are fine, and most importantly, our material possessions are fine, but it's been a damn stressful time dealing with the landlord's insurance company and blah de blah blah, I won't bore you with the stresses. I'm sure you can all imagine. Well, okay, maybe one thing. The stench of smoke and fire-killing chemicals was AWFUL for about 10 days. Better now. But I'm pretty sure I killed some healthy cells breathing in that shit air. That is all.
On to the new things I've tried since my last post. I have to admit, I haven't done something new every day, but close. Every other day, maybe? In no particular order of date, cause I can't remember dates anymore:
1. Hosted a wedding shower - it was made clear to me from this experience that you only ask people to be your bridesmaids if you hate them.
2. Made crafty little takeaways for said shower - which I sucked at, but did anyway.
3. Tried new pasta salad recipe - yeah, that was a mistake. It was a crappy recipe.
4. Ate at awesomely cool college-town restaurant in bellingham - OMG, best hash browns EVER!
5. Went to a Mindemporium, this place where a local geek built all these miniature science-world type exhibits and only charges people 2 bucks admission. It was pretty damn cool, actually, to know that someone cares enough about science to build all that shit and write the blurbs to explain wtf was going on to dummies like myself.
6. Tried new torture device in the dungeon, ahem, tried new exercise equipment at the gym. I think the closest approximation is the Gazelle, by that guy with the long pony tail. I wasn't a fan.
7. Convinced a border agent not to arrest my mother. Long story short, she was not arrested, but she did not come to Canada.
8. Thanks to Margarita, developed an obsession with True Blood. You must watch it if you enjoy wonderful writing, directing and acting. Best show on TV right now, period. Yes, even better than Project Runway, or that work of artistic genius, Hole in the Wall.
9. Was in a wedding party. New one for me. All my best girl friends are single! People should not drink and do emotional things on the same day. It leads to drama. I don't do drama, unless it's acted out by good looking people that I absolutely do not know and can be turned off when I get sick of it.
10. Tried a new... ah... erotic aid? Is that what they're calling them now? Anyway, we had a presentation at Nikki's stagette and I bought it cause I've been wanting it for a while now. I'm not selfish! I'm not! It's called a "We", so Chris likes it too. ;)
11. Went to a gourmet cheese store. Hard to believe I've never done this, given my love affair with hard, moldy cow's milk, but yet... it's true. The cheese was fabulous. I want to roll in it. And build an apartment in the shop.
12. Cleaned up after an upstairs fire. Learned A LOT about insurance companies. Dear reader, please please please check your policy to see what is covered and what is not in terms of alternative living arrangements, who gets to decide whether to replace or just clean, etc. My landlord is getting SCREWED.
I think there are more things, but I feel guilty typing because my husband is doing the dishes, and I feel useless. I promise, now that we are getting more settled after the fire, I'll be posting more often. I also promise that I have learned my lesson about procrastination - don't put it off cause you never know what will happen tomorrow!
On to the new things I've tried since my last post. I have to admit, I haven't done something new every day, but close. Every other day, maybe? In no particular order of date, cause I can't remember dates anymore:
1. Hosted a wedding shower - it was made clear to me from this experience that you only ask people to be your bridesmaids if you hate them.
2. Made crafty little takeaways for said shower - which I sucked at, but did anyway.
3. Tried new pasta salad recipe - yeah, that was a mistake. It was a crappy recipe.
4. Ate at awesomely cool college-town restaurant in bellingham - OMG, best hash browns EVER!
5. Went to a Mindemporium, this place where a local geek built all these miniature science-world type exhibits and only charges people 2 bucks admission. It was pretty damn cool, actually, to know that someone cares enough about science to build all that shit and write the blurbs to explain wtf was going on to dummies like myself.
6. Tried new torture device in the dungeon, ahem, tried new exercise equipment at the gym. I think the closest approximation is the Gazelle, by that guy with the long pony tail. I wasn't a fan.
7. Convinced a border agent not to arrest my mother. Long story short, she was not arrested, but she did not come to Canada.
8. Thanks to Margarita, developed an obsession with True Blood. You must watch it if you enjoy wonderful writing, directing and acting. Best show on TV right now, period. Yes, even better than Project Runway, or that work of artistic genius, Hole in the Wall.
9. Was in a wedding party. New one for me. All my best girl friends are single! People should not drink and do emotional things on the same day. It leads to drama. I don't do drama, unless it's acted out by good looking people that I absolutely do not know and can be turned off when I get sick of it.
10. Tried a new... ah... erotic aid? Is that what they're calling them now? Anyway, we had a presentation at Nikki's stagette and I bought it cause I've been wanting it for a while now. I'm not selfish! I'm not! It's called a "We", so Chris likes it too. ;)
11. Went to a gourmet cheese store. Hard to believe I've never done this, given my love affair with hard, moldy cow's milk, but yet... it's true. The cheese was fabulous. I want to roll in it. And build an apartment in the shop.
12. Cleaned up after an upstairs fire. Learned A LOT about insurance companies. Dear reader, please please please check your policy to see what is covered and what is not in terms of alternative living arrangements, who gets to decide whether to replace or just clean, etc. My landlord is getting SCREWED.
I think there are more things, but I feel guilty typing because my husband is doing the dishes, and I feel useless. I promise, now that we are getting more settled after the fire, I'll be posting more often. I also promise that I have learned my lesson about procrastination - don't put it off cause you never know what will happen tomorrow!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
2 - Sitting in a different chair at work-type meeting
Yes, it's a weak new thing. Especially since I didn't actually speak to any of the new people on the new side of the room. But, it did give me a different perspective on the meeting, and its dynamics. For one thing, I had less stuff to look at while I daydreamed. For another, I got to see different looks on the new people's faces while they daydreamed. All in all, not a bad experience, but not a particularly special one, either.
Tomorrow, I plan to try something new at the gym. And if something else new comes up, I'm trying that, too.
Tomorrow, I plan to try something new at the gym. And if something else new comes up, I'm trying that, too.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
1 - Tai Chi
Because I'm kind of mentally ill on a lot of fronts - lacking in both self-discipline and body awareness, being overly self-conscious - after some research, I decided that one of my new things would be to take a Tai Chi class at the local community centre. Practicing Tai Chi is supposed to increase your ability to position your body, breathing and posture, while also helping to develop a more disciplined mind. Chris signed up for the class with me, in spite of not being mentally ill, cause he's into the trying new things thing, too.
I gotta say, I think it's going to work out. Our teacher has been practicing for 18 years, and seems to be very capable and comfortable in the instructor role. She was good at pointing out mistakes without making anyone feel like a tool, and took things slow and easy for the first class. There are only 12 people in the class, and it's in a great big classroom, so no one was in danger of being whacked in the face by someone's (my) flailing arms. Just kidding. There were no flopping limbs. Just a lot of controlled movements (18 of them in fact - going to have to practice before next class, several times), and some breathing and stretching at the end of class.
I found the experience very positive, because
A) While I'm doing it, I'm not thinking about anything other than what my body is doing. And that feels awesome.
B) I felt more focused both while I was tai-chiing and afterwards.
C) I was definitely more in touch with my body, how it felt and how it moved.
Anyone looking to improve fitness through Tai Chi might want to consider a different martial art. From what I can tell so far, Tai Chi will improve balance, posture, and flexibility, but I could have worn a coat and long underwear and still wouldn't have broken a sweat. My heart rate probably peaked around 100 bpm, and other than a slow burn in my thighs while doing some front/back movement (not nearly as exciting as it sounds, though it could certainly end up that way if you found someone to stand behind you and follow your movements -- oh, inspiration!)
I didn't feel any strain on my muscles whatsoever, so it's unlikely to make any significant improvements to muscle strength. However, I do think it could cause significant improvements to the strength of a certain large and wrinkled organ, and said organ's ability to stop being such an isolated fucking snob, and connect with.... everything.
I gotta say, I think it's going to work out. Our teacher has been practicing for 18 years, and seems to be very capable and comfortable in the instructor role. She was good at pointing out mistakes without making anyone feel like a tool, and took things slow and easy for the first class. There are only 12 people in the class, and it's in a great big classroom, so no one was in danger of being whacked in the face by someone's (my) flailing arms. Just kidding. There were no flopping limbs. Just a lot of controlled movements (18 of them in fact - going to have to practice before next class, several times), and some breathing and stretching at the end of class.
I found the experience very positive, because
A) While I'm doing it, I'm not thinking about anything other than what my body is doing. And that feels awesome.
B) I felt more focused both while I was tai-chiing and afterwards.
C) I was definitely more in touch with my body, how it felt and how it moved.
Anyone looking to improve fitness through Tai Chi might want to consider a different martial art. From what I can tell so far, Tai Chi will improve balance, posture, and flexibility, but I could have worn a coat and long underwear and still wouldn't have broken a sweat. My heart rate probably peaked around 100 bpm, and other than a slow burn in my thighs while doing some front/back movement (not nearly as exciting as it sounds, though it could certainly end up that way if you found someone to stand behind you and follow your movements -- oh, inspiration!)
I didn't feel any strain on my muscles whatsoever, so it's unlikely to make any significant improvements to muscle strength. However, I do think it could cause significant improvements to the strength of a certain large and wrinkled organ, and said organ's ability to stop being such an isolated fucking snob, and connect with.... everything.
Reset
Third time's the charm?
I've changed templates again, which is a way to signal my brain that I've changed formats again. This time, though, I've also changed the title. My old title was past-oriented, and it didn't really reflect what I want to write about these days.
So without further nattering... may I present... a path to self-growth, self-improvement, and general self-something... the new blog! Here, I'm making a commitment to myself (and maybe to the occasional reader) to experience something new every day. I might not post every day - probably won't, in fact - but I'll DO something new every day, and write about it eventually.
Yeah. What do you think?
I've changed templates again, which is a way to signal my brain that I've changed formats again. This time, though, I've also changed the title. My old title was past-oriented, and it didn't really reflect what I want to write about these days.
So without further nattering... may I present... a path to self-growth, self-improvement, and general self-something... the new blog! Here, I'm making a commitment to myself (and maybe to the occasional reader) to experience something new every day. I might not post every day - probably won't, in fact - but I'll DO something new every day, and write about it eventually.
Yeah. What do you think?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
whatchoo gonna do?
for the sake of non-repetition, i'm just going to stop apologizing for sporadic posts and making promises for more frequent ones. what can i say? i'm streaky.
i have no idea what to write about. i'm only on here because i need to procrastinate with the book writing, and chris is glued to the new harry potter like i used to be glued to quarter pounders with cheese. that is to say, he is quite engaged. so, here's some random miscellanea:
-- i liked the deathly hallows, though not as much as some of the other books, which i think has a lot more to do with my newly discovered inner editor than any flaw in her imagination of the novel.
-- i registered for the surrey international writer's conference today, and i am alternating between moments of insane fury (WHY haven't they confirmed my fax registration by email yet???), rolling nausea (what am i thinking, believing i can successfully pitch my totally unfinished novel to kristin freaking amazing nelson?) and pure excitement (OMG, OMG, OMG, kelley armstrong, diana gabaldon and jack whyte might TALK to me!). luckily for me, and unluckily for you, i get to go up and down this emotional roller coaster for another three months. that means much blog-worthy angst and mania.
-- the exhaust support structure for the portable air conditioner i bought last week won't fit into our ridiculously small basement suite sized windows. i have to wait until tomorrow to call customer service for alternate suggestions because the fascist manufacturer is based in backwards ontario, and has been closed for the last three and a half hours.
-- the muscles in my abs, back and thighs are absurdly, whine-inspiringly sore, and i have no idea why. yes, i've worked out, but i haven't changed my workout's intensity or duration, so i don't know wtf.
-- my mom is sick with some sort of hitherto undiagnosed illness, and it's driving me nutso not knowing what's wrong with her. i live in constant fear of yet another person i love calling and telling me that they have the big c. fair warning: if my mom has the big c, you can just count on me to lose my shit. lose. my. shit. lock me up, give me a straight jacket, and padded walls. and then take me to visit my mommy so i can take care of her.
-- i'm not writing my book right now, and i don't know why. i can't say it's the publishing fear, really i can't. usually when i procrastinate, that's what it is. not this time. this time, i'm kind of scared that i can't write creatively anymore, that i spent so much time writing to please a potential publisher i don't remember the elements that made my writing unique back in the day. i'm hoping that writing this blog post will jump start the book writing, because it has in the past. fingers crossed.
-- i think i'm getting an out-of-the-house research job, and a very large part of me feels very 'eek' about that. however, it's time to wake the hell up and smell the burnt coffee that is life. the reality is that even if i finish the book, find an agent, and get the book published, i won't make enough per book to support myself financially. therefore, i probably need to get used to the very real world lifestyle of waking up early to exercise, getting ready, taking the bus downtown to work, coming home and hopefully having enough energy to write, because let's face it folks -- i'm not going to make enough money from writing to be materially comfortable, especially not with my boyfriend on strike. yet the prospect of facing this reality is most daunting, and frightening, because i have much at stake on other levels. i worry that this job will interfere with the book writing (what book writing? what?), with the healthy lifestyle changes i have made for myself (which are good for my health in so many ways i don't have enough fingers to count), with the largely stress free mental space i've got now. but alas, you never know until you try, and if i hate the job, i can always burn my bridges and quit, right? also, on the brighter side, the job might eliminate stress about finances, introduce me to new and nice people, and impose an external schedule that would actually force me to work on the things that are important to me rather than procrastinate by writing on my blog.
-- i should have hired a wedding planner.
-- i've decided on a honeymoon location, and i am freaking thrilled about it. can we just skip the wedding part and get on with the honeymoon part?
-- there's nothing good on tv this time of year.
-- i need some good book recommendations. anyone got any ideas?
-- i've been trying, and succeeding, at reading more. i think the more i read books, the more i am inspired to write books. the more i read publishing blogs, on the other hand... at any rate, just finished the year of magical thinking by joan didion and storm front by jim butcher. totally different books. magical thinking is a memoir about death and loss and grief, and it is both well-written and incredibly touching. i bawled at numerous moments because didion manages to communicate the intimacy of her relationship and the chaos of her loss in such a way that the reader can remember and imagine their own losses. it's a very good book, though certainly not happy reading. storm front is the first book in the dresden files series by butcher. i tried to read this series months ago, and totally hated it. i think i started with a middle book instead of the first book. anyway, for some reason -- i think because of butcher's inclusion in the urban fantasy pantheon along with hamilton, armstrong, harrison and harris -- i decided to attempt a re-read and boy, was i wrong the first time. i really enjoyed butcher's world building, and his main character, harry dresden, is funny and interesting. he's also a wizard listed in the yellow pages who consults for the police on the weird and whacky cases. butcher does a good job of melding back story with description and action, and he has great technical writing skills. there are times that the drama is a bit overwrought, but i'm willing to overlook that for all the other great things he brings to the table. page. whatever. the point is -- reading books is good for me. i should have a book on the go all the time. now, if only the publishing industry could manage to produce enough good ones for me to read. (did i mention that if i like a book, it rarely lasts for more than two days?)
-- it's getting hot again, and i don't like that at all.
i've got lots of other stuff to update, i could do this forever, but i'm bored, so i'm going to go try something else now. thanks for listening.
i have no idea what to write about. i'm only on here because i need to procrastinate with the book writing, and chris is glued to the new harry potter like i used to be glued to quarter pounders with cheese. that is to say, he is quite engaged. so, here's some random miscellanea:
-- i liked the deathly hallows, though not as much as some of the other books, which i think has a lot more to do with my newly discovered inner editor than any flaw in her imagination of the novel.
-- i registered for the surrey international writer's conference today, and i am alternating between moments of insane fury (WHY haven't they confirmed my fax registration by email yet???), rolling nausea (what am i thinking, believing i can successfully pitch my totally unfinished novel to kristin freaking amazing nelson?) and pure excitement (OMG, OMG, OMG, kelley armstrong, diana gabaldon and jack whyte might TALK to me!). luckily for me, and unluckily for you, i get to go up and down this emotional roller coaster for another
-- the exhaust support structure for the portable air conditioner i bought last week won't fit into our ridiculously small basement suite sized windows. i have to wait until tomorrow to call customer service for alternate suggestions because the fascist manufacturer is based in backwards ontario, and has been closed for the last three and a half hours.
-- the muscles in my abs, back and thighs are absurdly, whine-inspiringly sore, and i have no idea why. yes, i've worked out, but i haven't changed my workout's intensity or duration, so i don't know wtf.
-- my mom is sick with some sort of hitherto undiagnosed illness, and it's driving me nutso not knowing what's wrong with her. i live in constant fear of yet another person i love calling and telling me that they have the big c. fair warning: if my mom has the big c, you can just count on me to lose my shit. lose. my. shit. lock me up, give me a straight jacket, and padded walls. and then take me to visit my mommy so i can take care of her.
-- i'm not writing my book right now, and i don't know why. i can't say it's the publishing fear, really i can't. usually when i procrastinate, that's what it is. not this time. this time, i'm kind of scared that i can't write creatively anymore, that i spent so much time writing to please a potential publisher i don't remember the elements that made my writing unique back in the day. i'm hoping that writing this blog post will jump start the book writing, because it has in the past. fingers crossed.
-- i think i'm getting an out-of-the-house research job, and a very large part of me feels very 'eek' about that. however, it's time to wake the hell up and smell the burnt coffee that is life. the reality is that even if i finish the book, find an agent, and get the book published, i won't make enough per book to support myself financially. therefore, i probably need to get used to the very real world lifestyle of waking up early to exercise, getting ready, taking the bus downtown to work, coming home and hopefully having enough energy to write, because let's face it folks -- i'm not going to make enough money from writing to be materially comfortable, especially not with my boyfriend on strike. yet the prospect of facing this reality is most daunting, and frightening, because i have much at stake on other levels. i worry that this job will interfere with the book writing (what book writing? what?), with the healthy lifestyle changes i have made for myself (which are good for my health in so many ways i don't have enough fingers to count), with the largely stress free mental space i've got now. but alas, you never know until you try, and if i hate the job, i can always burn my bridges and quit, right? also, on the brighter side, the job might eliminate stress about finances, introduce me to new and nice people, and impose an external schedule that would actually force me to work on the things that are important to me rather than procrastinate by writing on my blog.
-- i should have hired a wedding planner.
-- i've decided on a honeymoon location, and i am freaking thrilled about it. can we just skip the wedding part and get on with the honeymoon part?
-- there's nothing good on tv this time of year.
-- i need some good book recommendations. anyone got any ideas?
-- i've been trying, and succeeding, at reading more. i think the more i read books, the more i am inspired to write books. the more i read publishing blogs, on the other hand... at any rate, just finished the year of magical thinking by joan didion and storm front by jim butcher. totally different books. magical thinking is a memoir about death and loss and grief, and it is both well-written and incredibly touching. i bawled at numerous moments because didion manages to communicate the intimacy of her relationship and the chaos of her loss in such a way that the reader can remember and imagine their own losses. it's a very good book, though certainly not happy reading. storm front is the first book in the dresden files series by butcher. i tried to read this series months ago, and totally hated it. i think i started with a middle book instead of the first book. anyway, for some reason -- i think because of butcher's inclusion in the urban fantasy pantheon along with hamilton, armstrong, harrison and harris -- i decided to attempt a re-read and boy, was i wrong the first time. i really enjoyed butcher's world building, and his main character, harry dresden, is funny and interesting. he's also a wizard listed in the yellow pages who consults for the police on the weird and whacky cases. butcher does a good job of melding back story with description and action, and he has great technical writing skills. there are times that the drama is a bit overwrought, but i'm willing to overlook that for all the other great things he brings to the table. page. whatever. the point is -- reading books is good for me. i should have a book on the go all the time. now, if only the publishing industry could manage to produce enough good ones for me to read. (did i mention that if i like a book, it rarely lasts for more than two days?)
-- it's getting hot again, and i don't like that at all.
i've got lots of other stuff to update, i could do this forever, but i'm bored, so i'm going to go try something else now. thanks for listening.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Gak!
has it really been 16 days since i posted? where does the time go? jeez. now i'm going to have to have a 3 posts week in the near future to make up for it. that won't be this week though because my mom is coming for a visit, yay!
i'm having a slight time problem right now. perhaps because i work at home and my hobbies are home-based (reading, writing, watching TV, downloading stuff to watch/listen to, exercising) and i don't have an externally imposed schedule, time has started to do weird things. days run together, yet hours can stretch into torturous segments as i check and recheck my favorite sites to see if anything new has been written/posted. i'm not working right now, so i don't even have my work reports to keep me grounded in today's date. the weather hasn't yet summer-fied, so sometimes it feels like may and other times september. the days of the week are determined by exercises performed -- monday = walk/jog, bike, abs; tuesday = bike, legs workout, abs... et cetera, et cetera. i think that's one of the reasons i've had some difficulty making the final push to finish the book -- when every day seems quite the same, it's hard to understand that yes, time is marching on without me. that's not to say i'm drenched in ennui like that horribly depressing nine inch nails song (every day is exactly the same). quite the opposite, in fact. i'm pretty dang happy with my life. i just need a reliable time keeper that beeps and talks to me every once in a while to remind me that my existence may be cyclical but the rest of the world works on linear time.
i'm having a slight time problem right now. perhaps because i work at home and my hobbies are home-based (reading, writing, watching TV, downloading stuff to watch/listen to, exercising) and i don't have an externally imposed schedule, time has started to do weird things. days run together, yet hours can stretch into torturous segments as i check and recheck my favorite sites to see if anything new has been written/posted. i'm not working right now, so i don't even have my work reports to keep me grounded in today's date. the weather hasn't yet summer-fied, so sometimes it feels like may and other times september. the days of the week are determined by exercises performed -- monday = walk/jog, bike, abs; tuesday = bike, legs workout, abs... et cetera, et cetera. i think that's one of the reasons i've had some difficulty making the final push to finish the book -- when every day seems quite the same, it's hard to understand that yes, time is marching on without me. that's not to say i'm drenched in ennui like that horribly depressing nine inch nails song (every day is exactly the same). quite the opposite, in fact. i'm pretty dang happy with my life. i just need a reliable time keeper that beeps and talks to me every once in a while to remind me that my existence may be cyclical but the rest of the world works on linear time.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
recommended reading: bad luck and trouble
margarita and i have coined a term for the urban fantasy mixed genre novels that we love and that we write in. they are known as Our Kind of Books. however, the urban fantasy genre is pretty saturated right now, and frankly, the content has become diluted. so if i waited for a great or even good Our Kind of Book to read, i would be reading about 6 books a year. as a result, i'd like to introduce a new genre: My Kind of Book. My Kind of Book includes Our Kind of Books, but the category also extends to thrillers, mysteries (hard-boiled and otherwise), romances (if decent, which is rare), and horror.
lee child has been writing My Kind of Book for a long time now. i read his first book, killing floor, about 8 or 9 years ago. i was immediately hooked. child's main character, jack reacher, is a former military policeman who wanders the united states, aimless, accumulating experiences of the country that he never had as a military brat and military cop living everywhere in the world but the good ole u.s.a. he is a true bad ass, and the way he is written makes him one of the best characters i have ever chanced upon, in any genre.
child's latest offering is titled bad luck and trouble. and let me tell you, it was neither bad luck nor trouble that had me reserving this title as soon as i heard it was on its way. sigh. the book is so good that i considered smoking a cigarette after, and i don't smoke. one of the members of reacher's old special investigations unit is found tortured and killed, so the remaining members of the team get together to hunt down the murderer(s?) because you do not mess with special investigations (that's their motto, not mine). though i have loved lee child since i was introduced to him, i find that i appreciate his writing even more now that i'm writing a novel. it's like a deeper, more mature love. ;) there is not one, NOT ONE, word or phrase that doesn't advance the plot or reveal character. reacher is about as proactive as it gets, yet he has to react to crazy shit happening to him or around him. the characters' actions are totally believable, and their actions are all you need to tell you who they are and what they are about. i think i've got to go buy the reacher novels that i was too poor to purchase during my immigrant years (i read them from the library instead, imagine that) so that i can read one every once in a while to remind myself of what great pacing, characterization and action look like. sigh. so dreamy. My Kind of Book.
lee child has been writing My Kind of Book for a long time now. i read his first book, killing floor, about 8 or 9 years ago. i was immediately hooked. child's main character, jack reacher, is a former military policeman who wanders the united states, aimless, accumulating experiences of the country that he never had as a military brat and military cop living everywhere in the world but the good ole u.s.a. he is a true bad ass, and the way he is written makes him one of the best characters i have ever chanced upon, in any genre.
child's latest offering is titled bad luck and trouble. and let me tell you, it was neither bad luck nor trouble that had me reserving this title as soon as i heard it was on its way. sigh. the book is so good that i considered smoking a cigarette after, and i don't smoke. one of the members of reacher's old special investigations unit is found tortured and killed, so the remaining members of the team get together to hunt down the murderer(s?) because you do not mess with special investigations (that's their motto, not mine). though i have loved lee child since i was introduced to him, i find that i appreciate his writing even more now that i'm writing a novel. it's like a deeper, more mature love. ;) there is not one, NOT ONE, word or phrase that doesn't advance the plot or reveal character. reacher is about as proactive as it gets, yet he has to react to crazy shit happening to him or around him. the characters' actions are totally believable, and their actions are all you need to tell you who they are and what they are about. i think i've got to go buy the reacher novels that i was too poor to purchase during my immigrant years (i read them from the library instead, imagine that) so that i can read one every once in a while to remind myself of what great pacing, characterization and action look like. sigh. so dreamy. My Kind of Book.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
under water?
well folks, between the rising waters of the fraser river and the final push to finish my reports for work, i'm looking around for an ark to either save me from sewage and bacteria infested flood waters or to take me the fuck away from it all.
some poor peeps in maple ridge have had to leave their homes, as well as peeps in other places in the fraser valley and the interior. as for chris and myself, we've purchased some bottled water, granola bars and dried fruit, just in case grocery trucks can't make it in. it might not get that extreme, but who knows? we'll eat the stuff, regardless of what happens.
as for work, well, this project is almost done. it's driving me whacky, though. i've been a very good girl and began writing my reports well ahead of the due date so that i could avoid my usual "i-regret-this-work-because-i-could-have-done-better-if-i'd-worked-harder" self-flagellation. the result? my reports are pretty dang good, but i miss my last minute adrenaline rush. i miss the clarity that comes with panic, the way my mind focuses completely on JUST GETTING IT DONE. i miss the kind of writing that i am capable of when all those stress hormones coalesce into some brilliant turns of phrase and sentence constructions because i am IN THE ZONE. so while my reports may contain better, more thorough research, they lack the tone that i am capable of producing only when freaked out and under the deadline gun. sniff. the grass is always greener on the other side, yes?
some poor peeps in maple ridge have had to leave their homes, as well as peeps in other places in the fraser valley and the interior. as for chris and myself, we've purchased some bottled water, granola bars and dried fruit, just in case grocery trucks can't make it in. it might not get that extreme, but who knows? we'll eat the stuff, regardless of what happens.
as for work, well, this project is almost done. it's driving me whacky, though. i've been a very good girl and began writing my reports well ahead of the due date so that i could avoid my usual "i-regret-this-work-because-i-could-have-done-better-if-i'd-worked-harder" self-flagellation. the result? my reports are pretty dang good, but i miss my last minute adrenaline rush. i miss the clarity that comes with panic, the way my mind focuses completely on JUST GETTING IT DONE. i miss the kind of writing that i am capable of when all those stress hormones coalesce into some brilliant turns of phrase and sentence constructions because i am IN THE ZONE. so while my reports may contain better, more thorough research, they lack the tone that i am capable of producing only when freaked out and under the deadline gun. sniff. the grass is always greener on the other side, yes?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
post-lite
can you blame me? i've got 60 pages of material due at work next week, and though i've got a lot done, i don't feel anywhere close to being done. i'm dying to work on the end of personal demons, and i just fucking found out that one my favorite authors in the genre that i write in is naming her next book PERSONAL DEMON, for god's sake. i'm also thinking a lot about the editing process, and where/how i'm going to tighten my writing and my story. i'm also thinking a lot about ghostkeeper, which will be my second books series. i'm also keeping up the exercise/eating right thing. i'm also managing to pay my bills on time, cook spectacular dinners, maintain my MSN-based chats, read two novels, hire a personal trainer, get the lenses in my glasses replaced, watch chris's team play softball, and sleep between 7-8 hours a night. poor chris is being ignored and deprived.
how in the hell did i get so busy? i don't like being busy. i am not a busy-type person. i am more a couch-potato type person who gets off on reading lots of books, preferably while watching TV and listening to music, yes, at the same time. i am one of those people who can literally sit in the same position without so much as a fidget for HOURS. so how did i get here, to this place where time to be a vegetable has been sucked up by the vacuum of work, social, and personal improvement projects? i am not this motivated! really, i'm not! maybe i've been possessed. yeah, that must be it...
sorry for the blog-lite post. it was a necessity, i'm afraid. i'll try for better next time, but the reality is that i prolly won't be able to do a thinky-thinky thing until after june 8. deadline, baby, yeah!
how in the hell did i get so busy? i don't like being busy. i am not a busy-type person. i am more a couch-potato type person who gets off on reading lots of books, preferably while watching TV and listening to music, yes, at the same time. i am one of those people who can literally sit in the same position without so much as a fidget for HOURS. so how did i get here, to this place where time to be a vegetable has been sucked up by the vacuum of work, social, and personal improvement projects? i am not this motivated! really, i'm not! maybe i've been possessed. yeah, that must be it...
sorry for the blog-lite post. it was a necessity, i'm afraid. i'll try for better next time, but the reality is that i prolly won't be able to do a thinky-thinky thing until after june 8. deadline, baby, yeah!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
RIP miss snark -- death of a blog
about five years ago (oh, my god, i am getting so old), my friend jenny had a political blog. back then, blogs were popular among the techno-savvy only. blogger was not yet around to provide those of us with the computer skills of pre-historic humans an opportunity to share our lives via the internet. hers was the only blog i read, and when she stopped posting, i missed it, but i always knew (because we speak on a near daily basis) that her blog would be back some day. hope remained alive. i stopped reading blogs then because, well, hers was the only one i read.
fast-forward five years. thanks to jason's suggestion that i start keeping a blog myself, and the blogs of friends including jason and margarita, and the massive depth and breadth of the blogging community as a whole, i am a blog addict. i check my regularly read blogs almost as often as i check my email. they have become as much a part of my day as brushing my teeth or deciding whether or not i want to watch a horrible season one episode of star trek: tng on spike tv. and several days ago, one of them died.
miss snark, the very BEST blogging voice out there on writing and publishing, retired. she said she'd answered all the questions she could, and she announced that she would no longer be making new posts, though thankfully, she will maintain her website so that we can partake of her famous 'snarkives.' after i confirmed that the date was not, in fact, april first and the announcement was not, in fact, a joke, i was just struck by this incredible wave of sadness, much more profound than any i've ever felt over the death of a celebrity, or even a distant relative that i only knew from the way they pinched my fat cheeks at bi-annual family get-togethers. miss snark was gone. i wasn't ever going to get to 'talk' to her again, 'hear' her witty voice, or 'witness' her amazing knowledge and seemingly endless patience for naive and inexperienced and generally stupid writers like me (which isn't really the case since she's leaving us her archives, but that was the overly-dramatic thought i had in the moments after reading about her retirement). i was so, so, so sad.
and then i was so, so, so surprised because i've never stopped to contemplate how much my daily blogs mean to me. the regulars -- those bloggers who are committed to posting at least three times per week -- are a source of stability, of constancy. they are reliable, and that is frankly unique. miss snark was great, not just because she is brilliant, but for a whole host of other, deeper reasons: she cared enough about her readers to read and reply to their emails, to put on contests for them so they could improve their hooks or queries, to post important information about what was going on in the world of publishing. and she did so with humor and grace and not a little snarkiness, like a beloved grandparent (in case miss snark somehow ever stumbles upon this post, i should note here that i have no idea how old miss snark is, so the grandparent reference has nothing to do with supposed age) lovingly teaching their grandchild some skill that modern sensibilities have overlooked and undervalued. bloggers like miss snark are the reason that some people believe, in contrast to technophobes who preach against the impersonal 'unreality' of the internet, that the relationships developed in the online world are real and important. with the death of miss snark's blog, i realized just how real and important they are to me.
so here's a shout out to all my regulars. you know who you are. thanks for stayin' alive.
fast-forward five years. thanks to jason's suggestion that i start keeping a blog myself, and the blogs of friends including jason and margarita, and the massive depth and breadth of the blogging community as a whole, i am a blog addict. i check my regularly read blogs almost as often as i check my email. they have become as much a part of my day as brushing my teeth or deciding whether or not i want to watch a horrible season one episode of star trek: tng on spike tv. and several days ago, one of them died.
miss snark, the very BEST blogging voice out there on writing and publishing, retired. she said she'd answered all the questions she could, and she announced that she would no longer be making new posts, though thankfully, she will maintain her website so that we can partake of her famous 'snarkives.' after i confirmed that the date was not, in fact, april first and the announcement was not, in fact, a joke, i was just struck by this incredible wave of sadness, much more profound than any i've ever felt over the death of a celebrity, or even a distant relative that i only knew from the way they pinched my fat cheeks at bi-annual family get-togethers. miss snark was gone. i wasn't ever going to get to 'talk' to her again, 'hear' her witty voice, or 'witness' her amazing knowledge and seemingly endless patience for naive and inexperienced and generally stupid writers like me (which isn't really the case since she's leaving us her archives, but that was the overly-dramatic thought i had in the moments after reading about her retirement). i was so, so, so sad.
and then i was so, so, so surprised because i've never stopped to contemplate how much my daily blogs mean to me. the regulars -- those bloggers who are committed to posting at least three times per week -- are a source of stability, of constancy. they are reliable, and that is frankly unique. miss snark was great, not just because she is brilliant, but for a whole host of other, deeper reasons: she cared enough about her readers to read and reply to their emails, to put on contests for them so they could improve their hooks or queries, to post important information about what was going on in the world of publishing. and she did so with humor and grace and not a little snarkiness, like a beloved grandparent (in case miss snark somehow ever stumbles upon this post, i should note here that i have no idea how old miss snark is, so the grandparent reference has nothing to do with supposed age) lovingly teaching their grandchild some skill that modern sensibilities have overlooked and undervalued. bloggers like miss snark are the reason that some people believe, in contrast to technophobes who preach against the impersonal 'unreality' of the internet, that the relationships developed in the online world are real and important. with the death of miss snark's blog, i realized just how real and important they are to me.
so here's a shout out to all my regulars. you know who you are. thanks for stayin' alive.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
this post is...
more filler, in a likely futile attempt to make sure that i post at least once each week on the blog so as not to lose my loyal readership. i know, today is wednesday, technically 9 days after my last post, but i figure as long as i do one today and one sometime next week, i am keeping with my pledge.
on one hand, it's a real bitch to start writing when you don't know what you're going to write about, but on the other hand, it's freeing. though i've written my book without an outline, i've always known the major plot points i want to hit on before i sit down to write the next chapter. there's a lot of constraint now in the way that i write personal demons. i think about how much i use the word 'that', how often i speak in the passive voice, how often i modify 'said' with a much-maligned adverb (i.e. she said sadly, angrily, throatily, wryly, etc. etc.). i think about how a character is going to be read. my characters aren't nearly dramatic enough sometimes. for the most part, they are intelligent, emotionally sound, reasonable people. at times this does not make for interesting interplay, so i have to try and create conflict between people who, like me, can certainly participate in a conflict successfully if they are thrown into one, but don't particularly relish instigating one because they are bullheaded, immature, or asshole-y. so, yeah, it's kind of different to sit down to blog, and not have any clue where i'm going with it or what i'm going to say. i'm glad i made this pledge to myself, because i think it will help my writing overall, and it will help me keep in touch with you, dear reader.
on a related topic, i was forced to pick up a copy of bill gates's latest money-making, fascist program -- otherwise known as microsoft office. maybe i wasn't forced, so much as coerced. i need to have a registered copy for my job, since some of my work is legal-like, and my employer's employers would no doubt look down upon a researcher who plies her trade on bootlegged software. i was at first quite miffed to see that microsoft outlook is not included in this year's student/teacher bundle. it was replaced by something called 'one-note.' i scoffed to myself, "what is this one-note?" and purchased it anyway because i need the word, excel and power point programs. just for shits and giggles, i opened the one-note program, and to my surprise, it was an over-organized virgo's wet dream. i've had it for weeks now, and still haven't figured out all the fabulous functions. (oh, god, i can't believe i'm plugging for microsoft! ew! someone stop me!) one-note is made up of, get ready for it.... notebooks! and within each notebook, there are pages. so for example, i have a personal notebook with pages for shopping lists, account numbers (password protected, of course, and none related to money, only things like chapters and amazon usernames), books and music to pick up, and recipes; i have a work notebook with pages for billing hours, project ideas, and notes; and i have a writing notebook with pages for personal demons revisions and notes, gagan's second book (as yet untitled, obviously), and ghostkeeper, a new idea rattling around in my head that i might write between personal demons and gagan's second book. the Very Best Function of one-note so far that comes in verra handy for work is that when you cut and paste text or pictures from a web page, one-note automatically records the website from whence it came! this is so fabulous! no more writing a quote in my reports and asking myself, "now where did you retrieve this from, and on what date?" it also does some desktop wiki stuff, i think, that i haven't played with yet. the tool bars are fancy pants, and have every imaginable tag or highlight, again, some of which i haven't tried out. all i know is one-note is a veritable playground for the person who'd rather organize their information than get down to business. who, me?
on one hand, it's a real bitch to start writing when you don't know what you're going to write about, but on the other hand, it's freeing. though i've written my book without an outline, i've always known the major plot points i want to hit on before i sit down to write the next chapter. there's a lot of constraint now in the way that i write personal demons. i think about how much i use the word 'that', how often i speak in the passive voice, how often i modify 'said' with a much-maligned adverb (i.e. she said sadly, angrily, throatily, wryly, etc. etc.). i think about how a character is going to be read. my characters aren't nearly dramatic enough sometimes. for the most part, they are intelligent, emotionally sound, reasonable people. at times this does not make for interesting interplay, so i have to try and create conflict between people who, like me, can certainly participate in a conflict successfully if they are thrown into one, but don't particularly relish instigating one because they are bullheaded, immature, or asshole-y. so, yeah, it's kind of different to sit down to blog, and not have any clue where i'm going with it or what i'm going to say. i'm glad i made this pledge to myself, because i think it will help my writing overall, and it will help me keep in touch with you, dear reader.
on a related topic, i was forced to pick up a copy of bill gates's latest money-making, fascist program -- otherwise known as microsoft office. maybe i wasn't forced, so much as coerced. i need to have a registered copy for my job, since some of my work is legal-like, and my employer's employers would no doubt look down upon a researcher who plies her trade on bootlegged software. i was at first quite miffed to see that microsoft outlook is not included in this year's student/teacher bundle. it was replaced by something called 'one-note.' i scoffed to myself, "what is this one-note?" and purchased it anyway because i need the word, excel and power point programs. just for shits and giggles, i opened the one-note program, and to my surprise, it was an over-organized virgo's wet dream. i've had it for weeks now, and still haven't figured out all the fabulous functions. (oh, god, i can't believe i'm plugging for microsoft! ew! someone stop me!) one-note is made up of, get ready for it.... notebooks! and within each notebook, there are pages. so for example, i have a personal notebook with pages for shopping lists, account numbers (password protected, of course, and none related to money, only things like chapters and amazon usernames), books and music to pick up, and recipes; i have a work notebook with pages for billing hours, project ideas, and notes; and i have a writing notebook with pages for personal demons revisions and notes, gagan's second book (as yet untitled, obviously), and ghostkeeper, a new idea rattling around in my head that i might write between personal demons and gagan's second book. the Very Best Function of one-note so far that comes in verra handy for work is that when you cut and paste text or pictures from a web page, one-note automatically records the website from whence it came! this is so fabulous! no more writing a quote in my reports and asking myself, "now where did you retrieve this from, and on what date?" it also does some desktop wiki stuff, i think, that i haven't played with yet. the tool bars are fancy pants, and have every imaginable tag or highlight, again, some of which i haven't tried out. all i know is one-note is a veritable playground for the person who'd rather organize their information than get down to business. who, me?
Monday, May 07, 2007
filler
i don't have anything in mind to write about now, i just feel like writing. i think it has something to do with work. i've been doing a lot of report writing today, and will be doing a lot of writing (not the research, that's done) in upcoming weeks, and i think with me, once i let my writing genie out of its bottle, it ain't gonna go back in willingly. i'm going to have to stuff the writing genie, fighting, down that narrow neck, and plug the cork. there is little doubt in my mind that i will be lying in bed tonight writing in my head. (sometimes i wonder why i don't just get OUT of bed and write the shit down already, just so i can sleep, but there's a war going on between my creative brain and my lazy i-like-my-comfy-sheets-and-my-cuddly-man brain and so far, lazy ILMCSAMYCM is winning. i have 500 thread count sheets.)
i confess that i haven't been reading as much news lately, so i've got no funny or quirky or horrible material to use as a muse. the weather here is lovely. it's finally starting to warm up, and everything is a verdant, vibrant green. the smell of fresh plant life in the air is just about intoxicating. the bad news? i can't hide under my winter coat and heavy jeans anymore. sigh. shorts season is upon us again. how white are my legs? blinding white. they reflect light like the purest black absorbs it. we got a new barbeque grill, and have been utilizing it to great effect (warning to all you vegetarians out there: graphic material about the consumption of animal flesh forthcoming). we christened it with new york steaks, and since that first usage have had flame-kissed chicken fajitas, barbeque pork chops, and hamburgers. i've purchased some beautiful pork loins that i plan to marinate, grill and serve with warm tortillas and homemade salsa (read: pork tenderloin tacos, one of the yummiest meat dishes EVER). i got my first sunburn at baseball on saturday, and it was overcast that day AND i wore sunscreen. guess i'd better buy a hat. one of those old lady wide-brimmed ones. how incredibly summer-y all this is. talk to me in a month when i'm so fucking hot i can't sleep and i'm bitching about how much i miss central air conditioning.
so, what else? the book. i've been learning lessons while writing personal demons, and that's a good thing. yet, the fact that i've learned these lessons during the process scares me into thinking that personal demons was largely a waste of time. yes, i think it has been a success as a learning tool, but i also think it might be a failure as a Good Book. as jean would no doubt point out, i am not finished with it yet, and it won't be until i do a real read through of the whole thing that i can say whether or not it is a book i'd like to purchase and read. i guess that should be a true test of how "good" it is -- did i like reading it? anyway, the point of this is not to crap on personal demons, but to say that i'm looking forward to starting the next one, a different series with different characters and a different cosmology. i'm even considering writing it in third-person omniscient, which i've never experimented with before. all the short stories and books (total -- 3 book starts, and 2/3 of 1 whole, heh) i've ever written have been in first-person. i plan to write this one according to the eight rules of writing fiction by kurt vonnegut, which are, unlike most rules, very helpful, and i think a succinct approximation of what, apart from an interesting story, makes for a great book. holy comma splices, batman! don't get me wrong -- i'm going to finish personal demons, and i'm going to do it the best i can, to make it the best book that i can given what tools i've provided for myself so far, to do the best i can for the characters i've created that i really, truly do like and respect. but i am looking toward the horizon, toward something that gives me an opportunity to stretch again, this time with the flexibility and grace i developed doing clumsy, fumbling moves in personal demons.
i think that's it. the genie has been squished into its bottle. i'm out.
i confess that i haven't been reading as much news lately, so i've got no funny or quirky or horrible material to use as a muse. the weather here is lovely. it's finally starting to warm up, and everything is a verdant, vibrant green. the smell of fresh plant life in the air is just about intoxicating. the bad news? i can't hide under my winter coat and heavy jeans anymore. sigh. shorts season is upon us again. how white are my legs? blinding white. they reflect light like the purest black absorbs it. we got a new barbeque grill, and have been utilizing it to great effect (warning to all you vegetarians out there: graphic material about the consumption of animal flesh forthcoming). we christened it with new york steaks, and since that first usage have had flame-kissed chicken fajitas, barbeque pork chops, and hamburgers. i've purchased some beautiful pork loins that i plan to marinate, grill and serve with warm tortillas and homemade salsa (read: pork tenderloin tacos, one of the yummiest meat dishes EVER). i got my first sunburn at baseball on saturday, and it was overcast that day AND i wore sunscreen. guess i'd better buy a hat. one of those old lady wide-brimmed ones. how incredibly summer-y all this is. talk to me in a month when i'm so fucking hot i can't sleep and i'm bitching about how much i miss central air conditioning.
so, what else? the book. i've been learning lessons while writing personal demons, and that's a good thing. yet, the fact that i've learned these lessons during the process scares me into thinking that personal demons was largely a waste of time. yes, i think it has been a success as a learning tool, but i also think it might be a failure as a Good Book. as jean would no doubt point out, i am not finished with it yet, and it won't be until i do a real read through of the whole thing that i can say whether or not it is a book i'd like to purchase and read. i guess that should be a true test of how "good" it is -- did i like reading it? anyway, the point of this is not to crap on personal demons, but to say that i'm looking forward to starting the next one, a different series with different characters and a different cosmology. i'm even considering writing it in third-person omniscient, which i've never experimented with before. all the short stories and books (total -- 3 book starts, and 2/3 of 1 whole, heh) i've ever written have been in first-person. i plan to write this one according to the eight rules of writing fiction by kurt vonnegut, which are, unlike most rules, very helpful, and i think a succinct approximation of what, apart from an interesting story, makes for a great book. holy comma splices, batman! don't get me wrong -- i'm going to finish personal demons, and i'm going to do it the best i can, to make it the best book that i can given what tools i've provided for myself so far, to do the best i can for the characters i've created that i really, truly do like and respect. but i am looking toward the horizon, toward something that gives me an opportunity to stretch again, this time with the flexibility and grace i developed doing clumsy, fumbling moves in personal demons.
i think that's it. the genie has been squished into its bottle. i'm out.
Friday, April 27, 2007
i waited all this time for THAT?
fair warning, dear reader, that will be your question when you finish reading this post which consists of a heaping helping of bitch with a side of aged whine (with a floral bouquet).
a person shouldn't post on their blog when they are feeling depressed, by the way.
am having, predictably (god, i hate how boring i am), and yet again, book publishing angst. sure, i'm not done yet, am only maybe 2/3 of the way done, but i am thinking about the quality of my writing a lot which leads to the question of getting an agent, and getting published, and finally, getting paid. i am not a deep person. i don't have deep writing. i write in a genre that is hot, hot, hot right now, but might be not, not, not hot by the time i finish. i'm not writing in the genre because it's hot, but because i love it. whether or not i love it does not matter to the publishing industry. sometimes, love just ain't enough.
so the question is -- how do i motivate myself to write through these doubts? i am a goal-oriented person. don't laugh. i really am. i need to have predictable outcomes, need to know that if i input a, i will get output b. and with this whole writing thing, it's driving absolutely fucking crazy that i don't know what the outcome is going to be -- i mean i know i will have a 300 page book manuscript on my hard drive, and that's something important... but the other stuff is important too. the recognition that what you have done is worth someone else's time. the fact that it's out of my control past a certain point makes me feel, to paraphrase frodo, like butter scraped over too much bread. or, alternatively, like my head is going to explode.
a person shouldn't post on their blog when they are feeling depressed, by the way.
am having, predictably (god, i hate how boring i am), and yet again, book publishing angst. sure, i'm not done yet, am only maybe 2/3 of the way done, but i am thinking about the quality of my writing a lot which leads to the question of getting an agent, and getting published, and finally, getting paid. i am not a deep person. i don't have deep writing. i write in a genre that is hot, hot, hot right now, but might be not, not, not hot by the time i finish. i'm not writing in the genre because it's hot, but because i love it. whether or not i love it does not matter to the publishing industry. sometimes, love just ain't enough.
so the question is -- how do i motivate myself to write through these doubts? i am a goal-oriented person. don't laugh. i really am. i need to have predictable outcomes, need to know that if i input a, i will get output b. and with this whole writing thing, it's driving absolutely fucking crazy that i don't know what the outcome is going to be -- i mean i know i will have a 300 page book manuscript on my hard drive, and that's something important... but the other stuff is important too. the recognition that what you have done is worth someone else's time. the fact that it's out of my control past a certain point makes me feel, to paraphrase frodo, like butter scraped over too much bread. or, alternatively, like my head is going to explode.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
self-pampering and well-being
most of you who know me now would likely be very surprised to learn that i used to be a foofy-girl. as a teenager, i was one of those girls who never had a bad manicure, whose toenails were either fire engine red, pearly pink, plum purple or flashy fuschia, who spent all of her extra spending money on hair care products, lip glosses, body treatments and polishes of various sorts. probably because i don't have nice boobs or a shapely body or a hot booty, i focused all my attention on maintaining a blemish free, smooth, buffed, almost perfect integumentary system. during that period in my life, leg and armpit hairs were never allowed to reach more than 24 hours maturity, manicures and pedicures were paint-chip, callous, dry skin and cuticle free, and the epidermis was soaked, exfoliated and lotioned with great ceremony and frequency.
sometime between being a care-free teen and a serious college student, i stopped painting my fingernails and wearing mascara and lip gloss every single day. sometime between being a serious college student and a not-so-serious master's student, i stopped soaking and exfoliating. sometime between being a not-so-serious master's student and a very poor immigrant working as a volunteer to keep the resume current, i stopped buying nice hair care products and face washes. somewhere between being a very poor immigrant and a low paid non-profit administrator, i stopped having my hair trimmed regularly and buffing the callouses off my feet (i NEVER wear shoes inside, and i wear shoes outside only in deference to the fear of having a hookworm burrow through the soles of my feet and find its way to my intestines, hence the persistent development of callouses).
now that i am a part-time research analyst and novelist with more free time and a bit more money on my hands, i am beginning to rediscover the sense of well-being that such self-pampering engendered. i am eating healthfully. i am exercising regularly (albiet resentfully). on thursday, i soaked, exfoliated, and lotioned my feet, and then painted my toenails a fabulous color (OPI's chica-go-get-a-manicure, if you're interested). my feet look and feel excellent. ;) i bought some nice shampoo to combat the effects of the bad highlight job that damaged the ends of my hair, and the curls are starting to bounce back. this morning, i shaved, exfoliated with the body shop's coconut scrub and lotioned with body shop coconut body butter. i smell good, my skin is soft as a baby's ass, and i feel awesome.
i feel so good in fact that i'm asking myself why i ever stopped my self-pampering routine. of course, part of reason is money, or a lack thereof for a long period in my life. but i realize now it's not about the type of 'product' you buy. it's about taking the time to care for yourself, to get in touch with what's going on with your body. it's almost a kind of meditation. you have to parce out a segment of time devoted just to your physical self. i don't have any problem giving that time to 'intellectual' or 'social' persuits -- i always make sure to spend time reading or writing, catching up on the news, catching up on my favorite TV shows, spending quality time with chris because these things are important to me. until recently, i've never made that kind of time to take care of my physical or material self -- i'll put it off, or not think about it all. i lived in my head so much that i forgot that my body needs just as much attention as my mind. today, i remembered.
sometime between being a care-free teen and a serious college student, i stopped painting my fingernails and wearing mascara and lip gloss every single day. sometime between being a serious college student and a not-so-serious master's student, i stopped soaking and exfoliating. sometime between being a not-so-serious master's student and a very poor immigrant working as a volunteer to keep the resume current, i stopped buying nice hair care products and face washes. somewhere between being a very poor immigrant and a low paid non-profit administrator, i stopped having my hair trimmed regularly and buffing the callouses off my feet (i NEVER wear shoes inside, and i wear shoes outside only in deference to the fear of having a hookworm burrow through the soles of my feet and find its way to my intestines, hence the persistent development of callouses).
now that i am a part-time research analyst and novelist with more free time and a bit more money on my hands, i am beginning to rediscover the sense of well-being that such self-pampering engendered. i am eating healthfully. i am exercising regularly (albiet resentfully). on thursday, i soaked, exfoliated, and lotioned my feet, and then painted my toenails a fabulous color (OPI's chica-go-get-a-manicure, if you're interested). my feet look and feel excellent. ;) i bought some nice shampoo to combat the effects of the bad highlight job that damaged the ends of my hair, and the curls are starting to bounce back. this morning, i shaved, exfoliated with the body shop's coconut scrub and lotioned with body shop coconut body butter. i smell good, my skin is soft as a baby's ass, and i feel awesome.
i feel so good in fact that i'm asking myself why i ever stopped my self-pampering routine. of course, part of reason is money, or a lack thereof for a long period in my life. but i realize now it's not about the type of 'product' you buy. it's about taking the time to care for yourself, to get in touch with what's going on with your body. it's almost a kind of meditation. you have to parce out a segment of time devoted just to your physical self. i don't have any problem giving that time to 'intellectual' or 'social' persuits -- i always make sure to spend time reading or writing, catching up on the news, catching up on my favorite TV shows, spending quality time with chris because these things are important to me. until recently, i've never made that kind of time to take care of my physical or material self -- i'll put it off, or not think about it all. i lived in my head so much that i forgot that my body needs just as much attention as my mind. today, i remembered.
Monday, March 12, 2007
frakkety frakking frak
as most of you know, i am a battlestar galactica whore. i gobble up BSG episodes like i've been known to gobble up dairy queen ice cream cake. as a result of my near total immersion in the BSG world of skin-jobs, toasters, the CAG and tyllium fuel, i have picked up a very useful new word: frak.
frak is how the brilliant writers of BSG manage to get past the FCC and let the main characters curse like the soldiers they are, and i have shamelessly incorporated it into my vocabulary. i walk around the grocery store wondering where they moved the frakking shake'n'bake, why that frakking lady at the meat counter cut in front of me in line, and whether or not i have few enough items to go in the frakking express lane. i've been known to utter, "holy frak, that's expensive!" while picking out curry paste.
the very very best thing about frak is that i can walk around cursing loudly as i am prone to do in the most mundane circumstances and feel not one iota of guilt! i am not cussing in public! my mother used to chastise me when i let loose with a string of swear words that would make little old ladies and suburban housewives look like they'd swallowed something nasty. i wasn't trying to offend, it's just that going to the grocery store is very stressful for me, and i am a firm believer in letting your stress out through a non-physical pressure valve: in my case, cussing. i'm not trying to be obscene. i'm just trying to keep from going postal. it really does make me feel better. with the help of frak, the little old ladies and suburban housewives still give me looks of disgust, but now they are primarily made up of confusion and "what a weirdo" rather than "how uncouth!"
frak is how the brilliant writers of BSG manage to get past the FCC and let the main characters curse like the soldiers they are, and i have shamelessly incorporated it into my vocabulary. i walk around the grocery store wondering where they moved the frakking shake'n'bake, why that frakking lady at the meat counter cut in front of me in line, and whether or not i have few enough items to go in the frakking express lane. i've been known to utter, "holy frak, that's expensive!" while picking out curry paste.
the very very best thing about frak is that i can walk around cursing loudly as i am prone to do in the most mundane circumstances and feel not one iota of guilt! i am not cussing in public! my mother used to chastise me when i let loose with a string of swear words that would make little old ladies and suburban housewives look like they'd swallowed something nasty. i wasn't trying to offend, it's just that going to the grocery store is very stressful for me, and i am a firm believer in letting your stress out through a non-physical pressure valve: in my case, cussing. i'm not trying to be obscene. i'm just trying to keep from going postal. it really does make me feel better. with the help of frak, the little old ladies and suburban housewives still give me looks of disgust, but now they are primarily made up of confusion and "what a weirdo" rather than "how uncouth!"
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
to all my fan(s?)
today, while chatting with margarita, i was very politely berated (it wasn't really a beration, it was more of an encouragement, but she called it that, so i must respect her agency in naming her words) because i don't post on my blog enough. she is completely right. totally and completely. it's not as though i don't have time. it's not as though i don't have shit to talk about -- i must, for all the time i spend chatting with you all on various chat programs. and then there's my own blog habit. my list of bookmarked blogs is now about as long as my very large flat panel computer monitor and i check them all at least once a day. so i am READING blogs. i'm just not WRITING my blog. (by the way, i'd be totally pissed if any of my blog peeps that i regularly read didn't post for as long as i go between posts. and yes, that's a threat AND a promise.)
now, on to our soon-to-be-regularly scheduled posting...
so i just re-read the entire harry potter series. fucking fabulous. i mean, jk rowling is a genius. i appreciate this even more now that i've been writing my own novel. she is able to weave together plot elements like magic (mwhaha), and when she does the big writing no-no -- including a scene that doesn't advance the plot or reveal something about the characters -- it is always so much fun to read that you don't care if it advances the plot or not, you could read her writing about opening a can of alphagetti.
now, i've been finished with HP and friends for a couple of weeks, so in bookless desperation, i cracked open one of chris's nelson demille books, called charm school. i like him and his stuff, generally. in fact, some of his books are downright fantastic -- see the lion's game, cathedral, talbot odyssey. this one, though... not so much. for one thing, he is writing in third person, and when the character thinks something to himself, it is put in quotation marks!!! i know it's a small thing, but it's driving me nuts, cause i keep thinking.... is someone else in the room that i missed? secondly, there are these incredibly long descriptive scenes. i know, it's the pot calling the kettle black cause i've been known to enoy writing the odd descriptive scene myself, but these are like.... about antique shops in moscow and shit. makes me wonder if he's cutting and pasting from his travel journal. oh, oh. and the sex scene! ugh! i don't expect wonders from male writers when it comes to sex scenes, but this one was just... why even have it in there at all? went something like this.... little bit of foreplay, insertion, and then... and i quote, "she grabbed his buttocks as she came." new paragraph. "he came." i do not lie, and i have not omitted anything. it was so ugh, ugh, ugh, from both a writer's perspective and a romantic's perspective. but mostly from a writer's perspective.
the point of all this is not to discourage you from reading the book, but rather to explain a VERY important realization i came to while trying to force myself further into the novel before putting it down for good. this was one of demille's first books. he's come so far as a writer and a novelist since that first one. the first one is always going to be somewhat less than perfect. it will probably have parts that are messy, parts that are awkward, parts that are anti-climactic. parts that are over-descriptive, parts where the dialogue is stilted and forced. so i don't need the first one to be perfect, i just need it to a) tell the story that's rattling around in my head and b) tell it well enough to get an agent and get that first publishing credit under my belt!
now, on to our soon-to-be-regularly scheduled posting...
so i just re-read the entire harry potter series. fucking fabulous. i mean, jk rowling is a genius. i appreciate this even more now that i've been writing my own novel. she is able to weave together plot elements like magic (mwhaha), and when she does the big writing no-no -- including a scene that doesn't advance the plot or reveal something about the characters -- it is always so much fun to read that you don't care if it advances the plot or not, you could read her writing about opening a can of alphagetti.
now, i've been finished with HP and friends for a couple of weeks, so in bookless desperation, i cracked open one of chris's nelson demille books, called charm school. i like him and his stuff, generally. in fact, some of his books are downright fantastic -- see the lion's game, cathedral, talbot odyssey. this one, though... not so much. for one thing, he is writing in third person, and when the character thinks something to himself, it is put in quotation marks!!! i know it's a small thing, but it's driving me nuts, cause i keep thinking.... is someone else in the room that i missed? secondly, there are these incredibly long descriptive scenes. i know, it's the pot calling the kettle black cause i've been known to enoy writing the odd descriptive scene myself, but these are like.... about antique shops in moscow and shit. makes me wonder if he's cutting and pasting from his travel journal. oh, oh. and the sex scene! ugh! i don't expect wonders from male writers when it comes to sex scenes, but this one was just... why even have it in there at all? went something like this.... little bit of foreplay, insertion, and then... and i quote, "she grabbed his buttocks as she came." new paragraph. "he came." i do not lie, and i have not omitted anything. it was so ugh, ugh, ugh, from both a writer's perspective and a romantic's perspective. but mostly from a writer's perspective.
the point of all this is not to discourage you from reading the book, but rather to explain a VERY important realization i came to while trying to force myself further into the novel before putting it down for good. this was one of demille's first books. he's come so far as a writer and a novelist since that first one. the first one is always going to be somewhat less than perfect. it will probably have parts that are messy, parts that are awkward, parts that are anti-climactic. parts that are over-descriptive, parts where the dialogue is stilted and forced. so i don't need the first one to be perfect, i just need it to a) tell the story that's rattling around in my head and b) tell it well enough to get an agent and get that first publishing credit under my belt!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
apostasy and confession
so.... it's been a while. again. i have no idea who still reads this blog. lord knows i'd stop looking for new posts if it were me. i'm going to do better, i promise. ;) have i promised that before? i'm going to have to look in my archives and see.
so here's the thing. i haven't been writing. christmas vacation in texas came up, then mom's visit, then a quick work deadline, then a break from work which i didn' take advantage of, now more work. i realized the other day that it has been almost two months since i wrote an original word. oh, i've been editing. yes, i have, almost every day. trading words for better words. correcting (i hope) grammatical mistakes. chopping up the occasional run-on sentence. you know what? that's not editing, it's an excuse.
i really do need to edit, though. when i started The Book, i had a rough idea of where i wanted the plot to go. that's it. i had three major plot points and a rather large group of main characters who i wanted to write about. now, i've got about 170 pages of rough draft, and 75,000 words. in december, it was already getting to the point that i had figured out that while my three major plot points remained, i needed some subplots and foreshadowing and whatnot. i became OBSESSED with the need to change what i had done already, to the point that i could no longer write forward. so i printed out my manuscript at the time, and started scribbling on it with a pen. didn't really do much else though. oh, i'd open word and open my files, but then i'd get distracted, or more honestly, i would avoid working on The Book. i told myself that if the files were open, i was working on it. snort. what an ass. anyway, i got depressed after that. someone told me they thought i had ADD, and i used that for an excuse for about a week -- i won't finish the book, i have ADD, i can't finish anything. i mean, i've never successfully dieted, why would finishing a book be any different? then i kicked myself in the ass because that is such a moronic excuse. writing is by damn sight a lot more fun than dieting, for one thing. so i got over the ADD thing, but then had more depression. every time i thought about editing the book, some really psychotic voice in my head would pipe up about throwing myself in front of a mack truck. that lasted for a bit. and then today, voila, i opened the fucking file and actually fucking edited. funny how when you tell your mind to shut the fuck up and just let yourself do what you need to do, life gets more simple. and more satisfying.
today, i decided to stop excusing myself and actually EDITED my first chapter, as in junked quite a bit of it and rewrote the sections i junked with my new ideas. i am VERY happy for several reasons. first, it felt so good to actually write again rather than just fiddle with words and phrases. it felt like sex after no sex for a really long time. ironically, other than sex, writing is the only thing i do that gets me completely out of my conscious mind. i know that doesn't make sense since writing requires quite a bit of 'higher' brain function, but that's how i feel. i really am one of those people who feels like they're in a fugue state when writing. i do my best work when i'm just sitting in front of the computer and letting it flow, out of 'my' control. second, i like the plot points i've foreshadowed and the bit of world building i've redone in this chapter. i have high hopes for my future editing endeavours, and for the first time in a while, i am actually looking forward to being able to write new chapters and finish the book. third, it's always good to have DONE something, rather than just thought about it to death.
and in celebration of this momentous moment, wherein i feel like i'm back on track and chugging along again, i'm announcing the working title of The Book. drum roll please. personal demons. wow. how anti-climactic.
so here's the thing. i haven't been writing. christmas vacation in texas came up, then mom's visit, then a quick work deadline, then a break from work which i didn' take advantage of, now more work. i realized the other day that it has been almost two months since i wrote an original word. oh, i've been editing. yes, i have, almost every day. trading words for better words. correcting (i hope) grammatical mistakes. chopping up the occasional run-on sentence. you know what? that's not editing, it's an excuse.
i really do need to edit, though. when i started The Book, i had a rough idea of where i wanted the plot to go. that's it. i had three major plot points and a rather large group of main characters who i wanted to write about. now, i've got about 170 pages of rough draft, and 75,000 words. in december, it was already getting to the point that i had figured out that while my three major plot points remained, i needed some subplots and foreshadowing and whatnot. i became OBSESSED with the need to change what i had done already, to the point that i could no longer write forward. so i printed out my manuscript at the time, and started scribbling on it with a pen. didn't really do much else though. oh, i'd open word and open my files, but then i'd get distracted, or more honestly, i would avoid working on The Book. i told myself that if the files were open, i was working on it. snort. what an ass. anyway, i got depressed after that. someone told me they thought i had ADD, and i used that for an excuse for about a week -- i won't finish the book, i have ADD, i can't finish anything. i mean, i've never successfully dieted, why would finishing a book be any different? then i kicked myself in the ass because that is such a moronic excuse. writing is by damn sight a lot more fun than dieting, for one thing. so i got over the ADD thing, but then had more depression. every time i thought about editing the book, some really psychotic voice in my head would pipe up about throwing myself in front of a mack truck. that lasted for a bit. and then today, voila, i opened the fucking file and actually fucking edited. funny how when you tell your mind to shut the fuck up and just let yourself do what you need to do, life gets more simple. and more satisfying.
today, i decided to stop excusing myself and actually EDITED my first chapter, as in junked quite a bit of it and rewrote the sections i junked with my new ideas. i am VERY happy for several reasons. first, it felt so good to actually write again rather than just fiddle with words and phrases. it felt like sex after no sex for a really long time. ironically, other than sex, writing is the only thing i do that gets me completely out of my conscious mind. i know that doesn't make sense since writing requires quite a bit of 'higher' brain function, but that's how i feel. i really am one of those people who feels like they're in a fugue state when writing. i do my best work when i'm just sitting in front of the computer and letting it flow, out of 'my' control. second, i like the plot points i've foreshadowed and the bit of world building i've redone in this chapter. i have high hopes for my future editing endeavours, and for the first time in a while, i am actually looking forward to being able to write new chapters and finish the book. third, it's always good to have DONE something, rather than just thought about it to death.
and in celebration of this momentous moment, wherein i feel like i'm back on track and chugging along again, i'm announcing the working title of The Book. drum roll please. personal demons. wow. how anti-climactic.
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