|In An Effort To Get Things Done
||[Mar. 5th, 2014|09:47 am]
Not much to post about here lately, at least not much I want to - house loan is still up bouncing in the air and mocking me from above, car is still dead and waiting for the mechanic to be able to get to it - and a myriad of great and sundry things have otherwise been commandeering my attention from writing both here, on the novel, and elsewhere. As it is, the Progress Report I'm posting below is four days old - I've only been averaging writing one or two days a week, though at least the word counts are higher to make up for it when I do get to banging away at the keyboard. Volcanic eruptions and all that.
And by the way, if you didn't see this in the numerous other places I posted it, Lest Camelot Fall is the current giveaway on the awesome, fun, and informative English Historical Fiction Authors website. You can enter it by posting a comment with your e-mail address here.
And just because, here is a picture of Tucker the Big Dog rocking out to our recent blizzard.
PROGRESS REPORT FOR 3/1/14
New Words: 3900 on chapter 4 ("The Renegades, 1885") of Copper Heart. Geronimo decides to do his (final) final surrender.
Total Words: 158850. "Yes, the danger must be growing / For the rowers keep on rowing / And they're certainly not showing / Any signs that they are slowing . . . "
Reason For Stopping: The Writing Room is still only heated passively by whatever heat bleeds in from other rooms, so I was kinda frozen.
Book Year: 1886.
Mammalian Assistance: Hayes the Baby Cat (splayed across lap, chest, and shoulder) wanted to guard me from...pretty much anything that wasn't her.
Exercise: Walked around the neighborhood with Laurie and the dogs.
Stimulants: Peach cider.
Today's Opening Passage: Gus was back in the desert, back in Mexico…but this time he felt stronger and more vital than before. Than ever before. It was as if he drew his strength and sustenance from the sun and the wind themselves, as he, Lieutenant Gatewood, and only a handful of others rode alone through the wastes to convince Geronimo to surrender one final time.
Darling Du Jour: There was the passing thought in the back of his mind that he was using up everything he had, all the rest of the years of his life, pushing forward with this effort. That once Geronimo was caught and shipped off to prison in Florida, Gus’ last breath would leave him and he would drop dead where he stood. It didn’t matter. He knew this was exactly where he was meant to be, and that he must see this through, for the span of his life had wholly been urging him to this last ride into Mexico and back.
Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: The Black Fire Concerto by Mike Allen / time_shark; The Pagan Lord by Bernard Cornwell.
I am glad Tucker is enjoying the winter weather. I am rather not pleased by ours. Jack Frost needs at least one fan after all this hard work.
He's a fickle fan, though. Some of the snow days when he got enough snow packed between his toes, he was just DONE. From that moment on he'd want to run inside to his comfy chairs and either chew the snow out or have us do it for him.
Still hoping the loan works out for you!!! Sorry to hear about the car. Hope the mechanic can get to it soon.
Tucker looks quite happy. Wouldn't it be nice to feel that way all the time?
I don't need to feel that way all the time, I guess, but lately I would like to feel that way more often. :)
That whole real life writing life balance is a hard nut to crack, isn't it?
It is, though normally not this hard. I managed to write a novel the last time we spent months thinking we were going to lose the house, for instance. I wrote half the Shenandoah Saga without a car. It's just the perfect storm combination going of everything hitting at once, including stuff I haven't mentioned here since while they affect me, they're not my Stuffs to tell.
I wish I liked snow that much. Winter might not seem so interminably long, if that were the case.
I do like snow that much. But we tend not to get very much of it. This was the most snow we'd gotten since 2009; some years we don't get any.
In that case, I wish I could send you some of ours. We're generally covered in it from December through March, at least, but usually starting in November and occasionally a little in October. It also often extends to at least part, of not all, of April.