Mar. 3rd, 2006

yesterday's progress )
And today I've added only dribs and drabs, but a few gapfills here and there, and some good resolutions to ragged scenes that had ended because i didn't know what else to do, rather than because they were done.

I started a list of loose ends I've left waving, though, and they're formidable. I mean, extremely. A few small things-- I mention that he's worried about his horse, but then later have the horse be fine, with no bit where his worries are laid to rest. Don't know where to work it in either, because, well, he finds out that his horse is fine but his father is dead, not to be spoilerish. I think one rather eclipses the other.
Another loose end: I have a minor character rather badly wounded, but I never make anything of it. POV char expresses concern, but then moves on and I haven't got time to mention him again.

Other loose ends, however, include red herrings about plot aspects I have since changed, and then there are issues raised by reusing from earlier drafts. And then there's the thought I've just had that I'm poorly reflecting my own feelings of overwhelmedness into the POV character, who's consistently overwhelmed by every event in the book and it's probably painful to read, not that I've noticed...
*dies*

There is too much information in this book. I have too much invested in it and it's too poorly-organized. I'm a bit overwhelmed. I'm just trying to get through and have everything happen that needs to happen. But I revisited the climax last night and realized that while I have a lot written of the leadup, nothing of the actual ending is done. That's kind of painful, as it means I'm nowhere near as done as I thought.

Not that I don't think I'll finish it and it'll be great somehow. I don't, surely. But Jesus, I could be doing a lot better.


I look back at when I thought I could get this thing knocked together by mid-February and I just laugh and laugh.

Somewhat relatedly, I feel like I owe a lot of people a lot of comments and emails. I feel like I'm far behind and not keeping up my end of communications a lot. But I just don't have the time or the brainspace to figure out who, what, or when. I am sorry. Someday I will have a brain again.

stupid

Mar. 3rd, 2006 03:07 pm
I brewed a whole pot of coffee. "I'll reheat it and have some later," I said to myself, as I sat down to sip my first cup.

Three cups later I've realized I've just got no idea when to stop.

It's like my heart is beating three beats at once.


Just kidding.

Whooo.
Maybe.

Trying, for a change of pace, to write a synopsis of my novel. So far it basically goes:

Martins is a young captain in the army of the Letts, a small independent nation ruled by his father Galjis. An honest and upright soldier proud to be bound by duty, Martins has only the slightest inkling that the world is a dark and complex place. But then he rescues a mysterious woman, Callonia, from the bandits at his country's border. She brings with her an awareness of the dirty ways of the world, and Martins begins to see the flaws in his own society.
Then, like, a whole bunch of stuff happens and he's like all badass and the bad guys are like "Nooo!" and then there's some good sex scenes and violence and it's just awesome!!!! You totally have to read this book.


Can you tell when the coffee kicked in?
Worse still is the fact that I currently think this is the funniest thing ever and I can't stop giggling, out loud.
Saw Juno and the Paycock at the Irish Classical Theatre Company down on Main St.
turn our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh )

Sigh. I almost tried to get into Trinity to study Irish Literature at the graduate school level. But then I realized that while I love it, I also hate it. It's beautiful but it's a mess and a pack of lies and a slip of moonbeams and a big suitcase of dirty money. Fie.
I used to be on Sinn Fein's electronic mailing list. We ourselves-- we ourselves alone. I'd probably be on an NSA watchlist if I were on it now. Except we're not so scared of the white terrorists.


Oh, a humorous side note is that beforehand we went to a place called Ulrich's downtown for a fish fry. It's an old German tavern, continuously in operation since 1868. Cool of cools, they actually had a framed declaration on the wall, that someone had saved from the door, proclaming that the establishment had been shut down for illegal dispensation of spirits in defiance of Prohibition.
Inexplicably, amid all the German-American memorabilia, there were old posters of Kennedy on the wall, an old framed record cover of a (rare, coveted) Clancy Brothers album, and the hifi was playing songs like "The Irish Volunteers", the one that goes "come now boys, now take my advice, to America I'd have ye's not be comin' / there is nothing here but war" (you know the one or you don't, but I don't think I ever knew the name), and a bagpipe medley that included not only The Boy From Killarn but also The Wearing O' the Green. I theorized that it was in honor of the upcoming St Patrick's Day, but Z said he thought maybe some Irish people had bought the place. I don't know, but as we were leaving a band with an upright bass and a banjo was setting up.

So it ended up being a very Irish evening, I guess.

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