The Devil, you say!

I've done it. It's not often that I quit reading a book. I almost always finish the book. But reading Stephen King's Insomnia, I had to stop. I got about half way through the 600+ page opus, mind you. But it only took me that long to discover that it was about 200 pages longer than it needed to be. There were parts in the book that I felt like I was at the closing of a Bond flick.(You know, where the villain divulges his full plan complete with unnecessary details.) Like he was inserting little unnecessary trivias and factoids just for the sake of proving he researched insomnia. It was a bit much. So I had to stop.
I will confess, King's earlier works were a joy to read. But it's just kind of fizzled out. I realize Insomnia is from 1994 and not exactly one of his newest works. But it was only 11 years ago. My god. Only? I look at these numbers and remember that I graduated from High School a decade ago. Shit. That's amazing. Let's wait and see how I feel when there's 2 decades behind me.....

I went to see Milo this evening. He's literally skin and bone. He's starting to lose muscle now, and when he plops down on his side he has a hard time getting back up. And he no longer has the balance to walk the bannister like he used to. But he still purrs like mad. He was sleeping & made a beeline to me when he heard me start talking to him. Purring almost before his head hit my hand. The above picture is from Milo's healthy days. Talking to you, asking to be picked up: 'Maow!' He says.

I am to pound keys tomorrow. "Write baby sister!" I will. And I appreciate the Rooster Cogburn refrence. I'm sharp that way. Yessir. True Grit.

Writer's write. I'm a writer. Natch.

What is this sleep you speak of?

As suggested in my previous post, I did sleep and much to my own relief, I did wake up the next morning. I was just uber-tired that night and wasn't sure if the desire to snooze was going to defeat my desire to see the morning sun.

I've been a furiously dedicated little writer, now up to 26,000 words. Only 80,000 more to go.(Roughly) The revisions on the previous novel are slowly progressing, but the current novel's been moving so well I've ended up keeping my focus on it, rather than those god-awful revisions. I really shouldn't fear the revising process. It's really quite essential.
Maybe fear isn't the right word. Revising just seems tedious. I also understand that it's necessary. I've noted, too, that I'll revise as I go. Or make great, painstaking efforts to get it down on paper the way I want it the first time and not just spit shit out, figuring I'll fix what's broken later. This could be what slows me down some days. I have to let go of that and just do it. Just spill it. None of it's permanent. And it is often hoped that in the process of just spilling it, I stand a better chance of having a true gem pop out. Besides, it's exceptionally constipating to measure every sentence, trying to make sure it's perfect before it ever hits the page.
As I've just said this, I confess that the first 9 chapters of Aztec require a healthy make-over so that they're showing and not telling.

Having said this--
I must get back to work. I've gotten almost 3 of my daily 10 pages done so far, but with a little luck, a handful of inspiration, and a bundle of focus, I hope to exceed the daily 10 pages today. We'll see.

I'll never wake up at this point, but at least I'm having Fun.

Peanuts are wonderful. You just can't stop. But truly nothing beats the addictive power of bubble wrap! That's the devil itself right there.

I was about to do something. Then I ran off to be helpful. I think I was pretty much a success. But how selfish do I have to be to worry about whether or not I'm an asset when there's no juice in the truck & we can't get home!

I want to sleep but some little gremlin tells me if I sleep I may never wake up. This of course is a farse. A failed attempt to induce paranoia and fear-based activities. We've risen about this line of intimidation. We're ready! What was it now? Oh yes. Going to sleep and waking up. We can do it. I just know it.

It's actually kinduva gimme. The dog wants me to come to bed...Chicklette will protect me!
And I'll still save a bunch on my car insurance!

Not only that, but I also saved on my Car Insurance!

What've you got in your wallet?

I tried to set a goal for myself-- 10 pages a day. So far, it's only three days into it, but I'm managing to stick to it. If I turn out that much, give or take a page, I'll be done by Thanksgiving at the latest. Wow. Sounds simple, non? A little too simple if you ask me.
And who asked you?

Hey, I only work with what God gave me. Sometimes this isn't enough. But one must have faith in oneself. It's the whole point of 'FAITH'. I like to do, what I can do, when I can do it.




Where she's from, the birds sing a pretty song. And there's always music in the air.

Writing Fever

I wrote 10 pages today! My sister tells me with a wink that such an accomplishment deserves a reward(Playing Sims 2)

I agree, just sitting there staring at a blank page is tough. I still can't do it. Instead, I get up and pace back and forth stealing glances at the screen. Today was an exceptionally good day, though. The thoughts were there, the characters were awake and ready for me to manipulate them, and I just went for it. Once I got it set into motion I was looking good. I'm approaching a possible stumping block, but it's like a fork in the road and the movement has stopped, waiting for me to choose a left or right turn. Just a pause. Not a block. For sure.

I finished the Ueland book and am now reading Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bare Bones. She talks about the importance of writing everyday, regardless of whether or not it's gibberish. Which instantly made me think of how beneficial these blogs are!
The one thing that I find interesting is that she says when you sit down to write, don't decide what it's gonna be until after your knee deep into the writing. She's had students declare: "I'm going to write a Great American Novel" and never get any further than that. It makes them too careful about what they'll allow themselves to put down on the page.

ANYway,
The writing goes well. I may just finish this novel within a year if I keep focused. (The previous novel took close to 3. 4 if you want to count the 'baby stages' of trying to decide on its plot, premise, etc.)-- Which reminds me I still have to finish revising the previous novel.

WRITE ON!("That's right, and I'm cute, too." --James Dean as Jim Stark in Rebel Without a Clue)

Reading to Write-- Blank stares are good

I've taken control of my Sims 2 addiction, I think. I've pulled the CD out of the computer. And the last couple times I started up the game, I managed to restrain myself to just a couple hours before shutting it down.

I'm reading more now. I have so many books on writing that I've never read--I don't even know which ones have merit and which don't. Brenda Ueland's If You Want to Write s quite good. She becomes fond of showing the work of her students and telling us why the passage is good or why it sucks. Her basic criteria seems to be whether or not the writing is true, and if the writer is forcing it & trying too hard to sound uber-literate. She places a lot of emphasis on finding one's true voice and warns against writing for the sake of making a buck. She argues that writing a story based merely on its salability ruins the quality of the story.-- That you can't write a good story unless you're in your own true voice. Something like that. She also urges that the writer be willing to stare at the blank page for at least half an hour. The longer the better. Which flusters me. Staring at a blank page is the one thing about writing that drives me nuts.

I've worked out a system to try and keep myself disceplined and get much work done:

If I get stumped on Aztec, I turn to the revisions of Lunatic Lounge. Unless I'm divinely inspired, the revisions should be my focus. Also, I've got a couple short stories I'm trying to finish so that I'll have some lures out in the water while working on the novels. Sounds like a plan, eh?

As long as I don't blow an entire day with the Treacle Family.(Sims 2)

Author Battles Sims Addiction- Film at 11

"Fishing is actually a very good extended metaphor for writing", says the caffeine-addled bestselling author Karen Marie, "Your stories are your lures, the fish are publishing houses, and your pole is the postage. Particularly with fly fishing. Flies are decorative, intricate pieces of work that can take a long time to perfect. You also need to know the right kind of fly or lure for the right kind of fish. You'll want to put out as many lures as you can to increase your odds of getting a bite."

Marie had been consuming a lot of coffee and there were rumors that she was constantly working while 'under the influence'. Marie had been battling a Sims 2 addiction, which she now claims to have under control.

"It was awful," Marie concedes, "I was such a slave to that game. And it was ruining my writing. I knew I needed to get back on track and was willing to do what ever it took to clean myself up."

Marie enrolled herself in a 12-step program in an attempt to 'get clean', but sources say she still owns the CD and hasn't uninstalled it from her PC.

The Heroin that is Sims 2

It's awful. Horribly addicting. Especially with the new cheats. I must say it's yeilding some interesting families.... But I don't get any writing done.
I'll get flustered with my writing for a moment(it only takes a moment) And I'm in Pleasantview breeding genetic freaks and building insanely large houses.
This is awful, to say the least. It wouldn't be so bad if I were to manage playing the game for maybe an hour or two and then shut it down. But this seldom happens. As I type this I'm contemplating making some completely freakish new residents for the 'hood. Shame on me.

In other news--
Jim and I took a bike ride Friday to nowhere in particular. Ended up in Boaz. Came home through Soldier's Grove & Blue River. I squealgiggled everytime he hit a major bump. The weather was gorgeous. Even got some sun. I worked Saturday. We went to the mound Saturday night. We weren't alone for long, as an SUV full of kids pulled up with their ghetto-fabulous music. 4 boys and 1 girl-- up the hill they went. Jim made a joke about the girl being sore the next morning. I took 2 hours Sunday to write 2 chapters(thereabouts)-- got flustered and fired up the Sims. Shame on me.

I've got to stay better focused. And I'm also having fond memories of the summers I used to spend buried in a book. What happened? I miss it. Besides, I look for it to help motivate my writing.
Yes.

Junior Mints and French Roast Coffee

I wonder if it's possible to over medicate. Could this be reflected in my ability to find the right end of a roach to draw from? You have to be smarter than the roach, you see. For most people this is achingly simple.
The sugar and coffee medication is not to be overlooked either. The sugar and caffeine keeps you sharp. So what happens when you mix a sharpener with a duller.(is that a word?)

I'm trying to get back on my writing horse. I found a rubber stamp when we cleaned Bud's office that I think will be perfect for my rejection letters. It says: "You have failed again. Start over." It's funny, really. Because I don't see it as a scolding device, but rather a playful reminder. That "Wall of Shame" that almost every creative person has. A vast collection of "I'm sorry, but you're material just isn't right for us. Please look elsewhere."
Bud's office isn't completely clean yet, but we tended to the parts that Bud was most worried about--The reason he asked us to do it was so that these things weren't pitched. And they've been saved. The peculiar feeling of Bud not being in that office anymore....it's unreal. The feud was ended shortly before Bud got sick. And I'm glad. There's something about forgiveness. It's a powerful thing.

My poor Milo's still enduring. Skin and bone, with what my brother affectionately calls a "Buffalo Hump". It's getting to be more of a challenge for Milo to hop up on my lap, but he comes to me. He still purrs. Oh my poor little boy.