- Mood:
amused
Still rattling away. Under the banner of research, Molly now has a collection of bartender t-shirts. My favorite slogan so far is “I can do it a number of ways; straight up, on the rocks, or, if you’re flexible, with a twist.”
- Mood:
cheerful
Yeah, I tend to be optimistic at the beginning, No doubt something will come along and piss in my cornflakes. But, until then, onward and upward!
Crossposted to The Pen Whore
Progress meter found at Writertopia
- Mood:
excited
Finish my book and bust ass to get it published, hoping it sells well. I have a lot of debt.
What's that on the horizon?! Yet another month of writing insanity, called National Novel Writing Month! I 'won' last year, by writing 50,000 words in 30 days. That story, my werewolf idea, has gone nowhere since, but that's probably because I've concentrated on the myriad of other stories that harass me at any given moment.
What to write this year? Well, I have a couple of choices. One is expanding on that dream that so captured my attention last month, tying together dreams, alternate universes, the concept of One True Companion for another, and Shakespeare. This might require me to become much more of a Shakespeare scholar in the long run, just for details or, since this is specualtive fiction, I can just make shit up. Probably the latter.
Tentatively titled Downtown Babylon, after a Paul Thorn song, my next choice is another non-supernatural, non-fantasy, non-weirdness story about normal people. Molly (have I picked a last name for her yet? It'll be an Irish name, to take full advantage of the Irish-owning-a-bar thing) owns a bar in a Navy town in Florida (might as well say Jacksonville or vicinity.) It sits across the street from a church. She and the members of the church have a policy of mostly ignoring one another. Her place is more of a family place and she tends to mother-hen her clientele in her own way, tossing them on their ear when they're too loud and obnoxious being part of the policy. Therefore her patrons tend to be pretty well-behaved. She is challenged by a young man who works at the church across the street, as to her lifestyle, which is not at all as decadent and sinful as he would like to believe. Typical for her, she pushes right back. Did I mention the on-again, off again musician boyfriend that comes around once in awhile just to shake things up? Or the homeless man she helps out? Or the dog?
Then there's A Single Self, an idea I've had for ages, about a person who is the result of a single birth, in a world where identical twins is the normal way of things. Probably mostly psychological.
And I could always write on New Tricks, the sequel to Old Dogs that I'm writing right now. There's plenty of material there and the characters won't shut up, but I may give Valerie and Daniel a rest for the time being, just so I can come back to them fresh and with new ideas.
So, what're you planning to write for NaNoWriMo 2009?
C'mon, spill.
*Crossposted to The Pen Whore*
- Location:my office
- Mood:
creative - Music:the voices in my head
- Mood:
amused
Thank you Danielle, for introducing me to this video. Absolutely hilarious, and so very true!
- Mood:
giggly
- Mood:
amused
My short trip to North Carolina was great! DH and I would like to go again on our own sometime and just kick back. (My in-laws are great people, but they were trying to cram as much sightseeing-type stuff in while we were there as they could and it got a little stressful. "We'll do whatever you want to do. You just tell us what you want to do." I got a little tired of hearing that. I know they were just trying to make sure we had a good time and saw as much as we could, but damn... Does this mean I'm going to hell?;-)
The cabin was an A frame, tucked right into the side of a hill/mountain (aren't they all mountains at that elevation?), surrounded and pretty much covered with trees, very quiet and peaceful. I can totally see myself going back and just hanging out. The steep and winding roads were an eye opener to me. I wasn't prepared for how weirded out I got, and I wasn't the one driving. I think it is a combination of a few things with me: control issues, especially with driving, my dislike of heights (well, fear of falling is more like it, I used to climb trees as a kid, but I got myself up there. I could get myself back down, Control issues again)and essentially being a flatlander. I was born and raised in Florida all my life, people, what passes for a hill around here is the slight roll the land takes in parts of Ocala.
The little town of Franklin was nearby, very cute, pretty obvious that they are a tourist town, but that's okay; I live in Florida, most of the state is that way. Went to the Scottish Tartan Museum, it was interesting, but not that spectacular, a lot of old department store mannequins with fake beards glued on in the kilts, a few weapons, but hey, it only cost $2 to get in (paid for by my sister in law. Thanks!). The gift shop above was very nice, I almost bought an Irn Bru, but I remembered how incredibly sweet it was ten years ago and my tolerance has gone down since then. The gift shop went unmolested, though they had some great t-shirts ( a lot of Jen Delyth designs), very pretty jewelry, and a huge oiled canvas storm cape my sister in law fell in love with. But, in Winter Garden, when do you get to wear something like that?
The train ride was loads of fun, made even more fun by the church group on our car with us. Hooting and hollering at the kayakers and rafters on the Nantahela River below the tracks was a major source of entertainment for one particular young woman. It was funny.
So, I didn't write a word, but I've got the four days ahead of me to get some writing in, got confirmation that my copy of 'Echo' is on its way and I'm good to go.
Link to all my pictures is: http://www.flickr.com/photos/debikayem/
The Model Train Museum, Franklin, the Gem Museum, Around the cabin and the Great Smoky Mountains Railway are all from the trip. Enjoy!
The cabin was an A frame, tucked right into the side of a hill/mountain (aren't they all mountains at that elevation?), surrounded and pretty much covered with trees, very quiet and peaceful. I can totally see myself going back and just hanging out. The steep and winding roads were an eye opener to me. I wasn't prepared for how weirded out I got, and I wasn't the one driving. I think it is a combination of a few things with me: control issues, especially with driving, my dislike of heights (well, fear of falling is more like it, I used to climb trees as a kid, but I got myself up there. I could get myself back down, Control issues again)and essentially being a flatlander. I was born and raised in Florida all my life, people, what passes for a hill around here is the slight roll the land takes in parts of Ocala.
The little town of Franklin was nearby, very cute, pretty obvious that they are a tourist town, but that's okay; I live in Florida, most of the state is that way. Went to the Scottish Tartan Museum, it was interesting, but not that spectacular, a lot of old department store mannequins with fake beards glued on in the kilts, a few weapons, but hey, it only cost $2 to get in (paid for by my sister in law. Thanks!). The gift shop above was very nice, I almost bought an Irn Bru, but I remembered how incredibly sweet it was ten years ago and my tolerance has gone down since then. The gift shop went unmolested, though they had some great t-shirts ( a lot of Jen Delyth designs), very pretty jewelry, and a huge oiled canvas storm cape my sister in law fell in love with. But, in Winter Garden, when do you get to wear something like that?
The train ride was loads of fun, made even more fun by the church group on our car with us. Hooting and hollering at the kayakers and rafters on the Nantahela River below the tracks was a major source of entertainment for one particular young woman. It was funny.
So, I didn't write a word, but I've got the four days ahead of me to get some writing in, got confirmation that my copy of 'Echo' is on its way and I'm good to go.
Link to all my pictures is: http://www.flickr.com/photos/debikayem/
The Model Train Museum, Franklin, the Gem Museum, Around the cabin and the Great Smoky Mountains Railway are all from the trip. Enjoy!
- Mood:
content
Movie theatre. I sunburn in ten minutes, so conceivably I could say 'both', but shivering with sunburn in a movie isn't any fun...
I just had a mild confrontation with two neighborhood boys. I'm digging in my yard, letting the dog roam a bit in the yard. Not two minutes since I dug something from one side of the driveway to put in the front flower bed, I hear a scuffle. I look up to see a boy of about 8 or 9, IN MY YARD, and my dog is running the other way, toward the house. Clifford isn't sure what to make of kids and so is a little afraid of them. This kid appeared to have him cornered on the other side of the truck. I really couldn't see, but when the dog ran, the kid hurried the other way. I waited, because I could hear them on the other side of the trees, still going along the street, laughing to themselves. When they were back in my range, I confronted them.
"You don't go into someone's yard and mess with their dog!"
They giggled, the intruder pointing to the bigger kid with him. Maybe he was dared to go in my yard?
"You don't go in someone's yard and you don't approach a strange dog!"
This time I got a 'yes ma'am' out of them.
"Thank you."
But then they laughed again, which pissed me off further.
"If he had bitten you, would it still be funny?"
"No ma'am."
I'm sure they're not bad boys. Yet. But if my dog were to bite one of them, even through their own stupidity, it would end up being my fault. Even though the dog was in his own yard, minding his own business, their parents would rightfully be angry with me. I can't afford to be sued, especially over somebody's stupid kid.
Don't parents teach their kids not to tresspass and harrass people and animals? I would have never thought of doig such a thing when I was a kid, and I have always loved animals; I would have been tempted to try and touch someone's dog. But I didn't.
Because my mama taught me some manners. Get a clue people. If you don't teach your kids some manners, I will.
"You don't go into someone's yard and mess with their dog!"
They giggled, the intruder pointing to the bigger kid with him. Maybe he was dared to go in my yard?
"You don't go in someone's yard and you don't approach a strange dog!"
This time I got a 'yes ma'am' out of them.
"Thank you."
But then they laughed again, which pissed me off further.
"If he had bitten you, would it still be funny?"
"No ma'am."
I'm sure they're not bad boys. Yet. But if my dog were to bite one of them, even through their own stupidity, it would end up being my fault. Even though the dog was in his own yard, minding his own business, their parents would rightfully be angry with me. I can't afford to be sued, especially over somebody's stupid kid.
Don't parents teach their kids not to tresspass and harrass people and animals? I would have never thought of doig such a thing when I was a kid, and I have always loved animals; I would have been tempted to try and touch someone's dog. But I didn't.
Because my mama taught me some manners. Get a clue people. If you don't teach your kids some manners, I will.
- Mood:
grumpy - Music:my own growling
Only had it once, ten years ago in Scotland. Whiskey Mac. Nothing beats it. Can't find Stone's Ginger Wine in the States. I can't afford to fly to the UK just for this drink so I guess I'm to remain bereft the rest of my days.
No over-the-road playlist is complete without Golden Earring's Radar Love, though listening to it, especially late at night could leave to a speeding ticket. The whole Eagles "Desperado" album is a must, some Led Zeppelin, some Paul Thorn and maybe a little Bonnie Raitt to round things out.
*A group of people sit in a circle in some cavernous community hall. A forty-something woman stands, tucking auburn hair behind one ear. She clears her throat.*
Hi, I'm Debi, and I'm a writer.
*The groups choruses, voices with varying degrees of sympathy, "Hi, Debi."
She continues.*
I've been a writer most of my life. It started with fanfiction, like many of us. *nods all around the group*
Then, I thought, 'There's no harm in this, I can write my own, original fiction. *Some grimaces of understanding, more nodding*
So I do write my own stuff. And I like it, I think it's good. And then another idea comes to me; so I write that. And another.
*Sympathy mixed with horror now suffuses the group. One of them gets up qith quick, nervous movements to get another cup of anemic coffee.*
But I never finish anything. I try, I set goals to have a certain word count by a certain time; sometimes it works. I join groups like NaNoWriMo, *gasps from some in the bunch; one voice says quietly "I hear you."* but it just adds more stories to the bunch I already have. So I try just writing one, letting the others alone.
*She swallows with a nervous giggle.*
Then, last night, just before I woke up, I had a dream. *Wide-eyed stares greet her latest confession*
I dreamed a new storyline. A really good one, I think. I want to write it, really bad. I think this could really be the one.
*Cries of "No! Don't listen to the dreams! Just let it go!" echo around the dank meeting hall. She nods.
I know what you're all thinking: 'She can't handle another story.' She can't finish what she has; why the hell does she want to write another one?' Well, I don't know. But I woke up this morning with that idea in my head and it won't leave me alone. So, you know what? I'm going to let it stay. It can play with the rest of my stories, and I'll think about it and write on it whenever I want to!
*Amid shouts of sympathy and protest, she turns and walks out the door.
I can do this, I can write this story. And it will be good.
So there, pppbbbttt!!! ;-)
Crossposted to The Pen Whore
Hi, I'm Debi, and I'm a writer.
*The groups choruses, voices with varying degrees of sympathy, "Hi, Debi."
She continues.*
I've been a writer most of my life. It started with fanfiction, like many of us. *nods all around the group*
Then, I thought, 'There's no harm in this, I can write my own, original fiction. *Some grimaces of understanding, more nodding*
So I do write my own stuff. And I like it, I think it's good. And then another idea comes to me; so I write that. And another.
*Sympathy mixed with horror now suffuses the group. One of them gets up qith quick, nervous movements to get another cup of anemic coffee.*
But I never finish anything. I try, I set goals to have a certain word count by a certain time; sometimes it works. I join groups like NaNoWriMo, *gasps from some in the bunch; one voice says quietly "I hear you."* but it just adds more stories to the bunch I already have. So I try just writing one, letting the others alone.
*She swallows with a nervous giggle.*
Then, last night, just before I woke up, I had a dream. *Wide-eyed stares greet her latest confession*
I dreamed a new storyline. A really good one, I think. I want to write it, really bad. I think this could really be the one.
*Cries of "No! Don't listen to the dreams! Just let it go!" echo around the dank meeting hall. She nods.
I know what you're all thinking: 'She can't handle another story.' She can't finish what she has; why the hell does she want to write another one?' Well, I don't know. But I woke up this morning with that idea in my head and it won't leave me alone. So, you know what? I'm going to let it stay. It can play with the rest of my stories, and I'll think about it and write on it whenever I want to!
*Amid shouts of sympathy and protest, she turns and walks out the door.
I can do this, I can write this story. And it will be good.
So there, pppbbbttt!!! ;-)
Crossposted to The Pen Whore
- Mood:
amused
I think that everything potentially has a scientific explanation, but there are levels we aren't ready/mature enough as a species to understand.
I still remember all the words to the song...
Like things aren't a pain in the ass enough right now. It's hot (can't do anything about it), things at work are SNAFU (as always), still don't have my car on the road because I can't afford to put new tires on it, the element is burned out in the oven, the outelets and lights along one wall of the house still don't work (and I can't afford an electrician) and a friggin' COP rear-ended DH this afternoon in the Scion.
Yes, I did say a cop. I guess if you get hit by someone it's not a bad choice, since it was his fault, he admitted to it and we have their (self) insurance information. But it's still a pain in our ass to have to go and take the vehicle in, have the bumper replaced, see if anything else was jarred loose by the impact...blah, blah, blah.
The good news; it doesn't look bad at all. It's drivable and you really have to look to see the visible damage. My concern is there is hidden damage, in the undercarriage, in the exhaust, somewhere. I guess that will be something else we'll have to arrage to do this week sometime. DH is staying home from work tomorrow, already feeling the muscle tension and soreness setting in. He doesn't need to be trying to move patients like that.
I'd like a break now, please. Something needs to go right for a change. A sudden upturn in the economy that results in getting a pay raise (that I haven't had one of in about 3 years), some crazy philanthropist decides that I'm the next lucky recipient of their help, I have a sudden epiphany about this story I'm trying to finish that aloows me to write just the right amount of brilliant prose to make the novel work, be accepted by an agent/publisher and be a success... something's got to give.
Yes, I did say a cop. I guess if you get hit by someone it's not a bad choice, since it was his fault, he admitted to it and we have their (self) insurance information. But it's still a pain in our ass to have to go and take the vehicle in, have the bumper replaced, see if anything else was jarred loose by the impact...blah, blah, blah.
The good news; it doesn't look bad at all. It's drivable and you really have to look to see the visible damage. My concern is there is hidden damage, in the undercarriage, in the exhaust, somewhere. I guess that will be something else we'll have to arrage to do this week sometime. DH is staying home from work tomorrow, already feeling the muscle tension and soreness setting in. He doesn't need to be trying to move patients like that.
I'd like a break now, please. Something needs to go right for a change. A sudden upturn in the economy that results in getting a pay raise (that I haven't had one of in about 3 years), some crazy philanthropist decides that I'm the next lucky recipient of their help, I have a sudden epiphany about this story I'm trying to finish that aloows me to write just the right amount of brilliant prose to make the novel work, be accepted by an agent/publisher and be a success... something's got to give.
- Mood:
frustrated






