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dragonlady7In case this morning's post wasn't boring enough, I continue.
12:24 pm 44,506 words. I begin to believe this is possible. However. Five hours until Z comes home, and I have to squeeze in some errands, on foot because I have no car, in the snow. Bah. Have switched to randomly listening to classical music: Mozart is supposed to make you better at math, but can he help with wordcount? We shall see.
12:46 45,180 words. Hee hee, Alexander looks so funny when he goes into his tube. (Each of the three fooshes has a tube made from a plastic film canister with the bottom cut out, and they go in there to hide and rest.) He's such a big fish, his nose pokes out one end and his tail hangs out the other, but he seems to like it in there. He goes in there a lot. I have my back to the fishtank but I keep turning to look at it. I should just give up and turn back that way. Sitting on couch now-- nice thing about the living room is that there are a lot of sitting surfaces now. Am cold; considering lighting a candle so I can hold it in my hands and be warmer.
Classical music holding up well. It is Haydn now, who suffers from a paucity of vowels I think, but does strings very well.
1:00 pm 45,468 A brief mention of a character being pregnant necessitates a field trip to babycenter.com for fact-checking. Why, God, why is that site such a time-suck? Reminded of how last week when I came in to work and said I hadn't been feeling well one of my coworkers immediately said "My God, you're pregnant!" "Uh... what?" "Oh, you're not?" "No, I have a cold." "Oh." Jesus, it's like it's a crime to be nubile.
1:15 pm 45,893 words
Snowing very hard now. Pause to feed fishes, who are all watching me intently for some reason, possibly ravening hunger, although with them there's really no difference between real and feigned hunger.
Must soon come up with more music to listen to. Anything interesting is too interesting.
1:31 pm 46,026 words. Creeping along. Leaning heavily on dialogue. Nothing plumps out wordcount faster than dialogue. Skip unnecessary descriptive passages: takes too long to describe things. Talk about things instead. Repetitive dialogue tags inflate wordcount. As do stammering. Am I that bad? Yes I am. Is this readable? Barely. Do I care? Not really.
Have still not put on more music. Am getting distracted by ticking clock. Replaced its battery, so it works now, but haven't set the time, so it's wrong. Great. Useful. Very "me".
2:07 pm 47,079 words On track. I'm on track. Yes. Track. That's the word. Gah! I think it's stopped snowing but I'm not sure. Ravel's "Bolero" is oddly conducive to productivity. I'd like to be listening to something more interesting but I fear to mess with success.
2:25 pm 47,462 words. IMing with Z: chaos at his workplace, as usual-- the magazine goes to press on Wednesday afternoons. Snow coming down hard here. Have inane urge to start drinking wine. Listening to Mendellsohn. Oddly hungry. How did I not gain a zillion pounds when I was unemployed and doing pretty much this every day? I wrote a million words, and managed to remain under 200 pounds, and it must've been a miracle or something.
2:45 48,102 words. God, I am descending into cloying sentiment. Regardless, I soldier on! Oh Mendellsohn, stop with the goddamned wedding march. It's not a happy scene! Bah. I have to take a potty break and run around the house because my hands are so very, very cold. Not that i don't have the heat turned up to a ridiculous temperature-- I do-- it's just that idleness makes the fingers grow very, very cold and, sadly, typing is idleness.
12:24 pm 44,506 words. I begin to believe this is possible. However. Five hours until Z comes home, and I have to squeeze in some errands, on foot because I have no car, in the snow. Bah. Have switched to randomly listening to classical music: Mozart is supposed to make you better at math, but can he help with wordcount? We shall see.
12:46 45,180 words. Hee hee, Alexander looks so funny when he goes into his tube. (Each of the three fooshes has a tube made from a plastic film canister with the bottom cut out, and they go in there to hide and rest.) He's such a big fish, his nose pokes out one end and his tail hangs out the other, but he seems to like it in there. He goes in there a lot. I have my back to the fishtank but I keep turning to look at it. I should just give up and turn back that way. Sitting on couch now-- nice thing about the living room is that there are a lot of sitting surfaces now. Am cold; considering lighting a candle so I can hold it in my hands and be warmer.
Classical music holding up well. It is Haydn now, who suffers from a paucity of vowels I think, but does strings very well.
1:00 pm 45,468 A brief mention of a character being pregnant necessitates a field trip to babycenter.com for fact-checking. Why, God, why is that site such a time-suck? Reminded of how last week when I came in to work and said I hadn't been feeling well one of my coworkers immediately said "My God, you're pregnant!" "Uh... what?" "Oh, you're not?" "No, I have a cold." "Oh." Jesus, it's like it's a crime to be nubile.
1:15 pm 45,893 words
Snowing very hard now. Pause to feed fishes, who are all watching me intently for some reason, possibly ravening hunger, although with them there's really no difference between real and feigned hunger.
Must soon come up with more music to listen to. Anything interesting is too interesting.
1:31 pm 46,026 words. Creeping along. Leaning heavily on dialogue. Nothing plumps out wordcount faster than dialogue. Skip unnecessary descriptive passages: takes too long to describe things. Talk about things instead. Repetitive dialogue tags inflate wordcount. As do stammering. Am I that bad? Yes I am. Is this readable? Barely. Do I care? Not really.
Have still not put on more music. Am getting distracted by ticking clock. Replaced its battery, so it works now, but haven't set the time, so it's wrong. Great. Useful. Very "me".
2:07 pm 47,079 words On track. I'm on track. Yes. Track. That's the word. Gah! I think it's stopped snowing but I'm not sure. Ravel's "Bolero" is oddly conducive to productivity. I'd like to be listening to something more interesting but I fear to mess with success.
2:25 pm 47,462 words. IMing with Z: chaos at his workplace, as usual-- the magazine goes to press on Wednesday afternoons. Snow coming down hard here. Have inane urge to start drinking wine. Listening to Mendellsohn. Oddly hungry. How did I not gain a zillion pounds when I was unemployed and doing pretty much this every day? I wrote a million words, and managed to remain under 200 pounds, and it must've been a miracle or something.
2:45 48,102 words. God, I am descending into cloying sentiment. Regardless, I soldier on! Oh Mendellsohn, stop with the goddamned wedding march. It's not a happy scene! Bah. I have to take a potty break and run around the house because my hands are so very, very cold. Not that i don't have the heat turned up to a ridiculous temperature-- I do-- it's just that idleness makes the fingers grow very, very cold and, sadly, typing is idleness.
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-30 08:26 pm (UTC)Too bad about the errand running. I was just up at Home Depot, had I known ...
Fingers *do* get cold while typing. I considering cutting fingers off old gloves.
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Date: 2005-11-30 08:34 pm (UTC)I think the errand-running will wait until Z comes home with the car. I just cannot be arsed, not in this snow. It's not urgent, I'd just told myself i had to do it. But I don't really.
> fingers off old gloves
Used to do that. When I was a kid, in my parents' 55-degree house, the computer room was right next to the door to the uninsulated back porch, so I'd be sitting in there for all-night writing binges and it'd seriously be like 45 degrees in there. (They turned the heat OFF at night, downstairs.) And we always had these stretchy "one size fits all" knit gloves, all the rage in the early 90s-- well, anyone with any fingernails at all would poke right through those. And I'd take the ones with the fingertips all busted up, and would poke openings in the ones that hadn't busted, and would do all my typing with gloves that exposed just the fingertips. It worked passably well-- I was a novice typist back then, and did a lot of hunt-and-peck. I don't know how I'd do now, now that I'm ten-fingered 100 wpm, but it worked great then. Although my pinkies still got cold.
Another good approach is putting the keyboard on a hot water bottle or heating pad. Then your wrists are warmed. Laptops that vent heat through the keyboard (the newer Powerbooks do) are nice too because they're actually warm under your hands, although that's not very much. My problem at the moment is that I tend to push my sleeves up when I concentrate, and I wind up with bare arms, which are cold even at 65 F when you're just sitting on your ass. The rest of me is slightly too warm, but my toes and my fingers-- brr!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-30 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-30 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-01 03:12 am (UTC)