Mar. 21st, 2006

Have been struggling with Broken Internet all day. I chronicled my Struggles As A Network Technician over on my Elmwoodstrip journal (I should get a syndicated feed of that on my flist, eh?): Home Networking.
[ profile] z0bar's link works, but he hasn't updated since I made it, so, it doesn't have anything in it. V. annoying: I want to see how it works.

I wrote an entry to go here while the Internet was instead the Inertnet (HA I am funny), so I guess I'll paste that in now.
Man. Internet's busted. Composing this in Word, trying to think of Eternal Truths instead of spur-of-the-moment declarations. Amazing how time puts pressure on you.
Am irritated, as I was in the midst of researching agents and the publishing biz, thanks to some faboo links from [ profile] sartorias who has no idea who I am but I love her entries.
Not that I need an agent yet. Not that I'm ready to be published yet.

But I have been making tremendous progress the last two days, at least wordcount-wise. So there's that.
I'm actually really impressed with my progress of yesterday-- I didn't have my usual wait-10-min-for-bus, ride for an hour, sit in airport undisturbed 2 hours stretch, but I still managed an incredible wordcount, in the hours between interruptions. In fact I wrote nearly a thousand words more yesterday than I did during my 8 hours in the Club. So I'm really impressed with myself.

Naturally I'm overwriting like whoa. The first round of edits will probably cut a third of the length (you're right, [ profile] tehta) just in excessive dialogue and tangential action. But. I won't need any plot rewrites. At most a scene here or there. So. I am drawing nigh to the end of the book and I'm psyched.

When I finish I should have a party.

Thought: Is it true that nonfiction is written on proposals? Like, polar opposite to fiction, which you write and then shop around, for nonfic you shop your idea around and only once you've got a buyer do you write it?
Hm. Holy hells is that ever convenient. Cuz it's not like someone's going to steal my great idea.
Should I tell you my great idea?
If you steal it I shall be most put out. )

And if nonfiction is written to proposal, then I could shop the proposal around while I let BarbariansNovel stew a while and edit VikingsNovel, and so hopefully by the time I (witness the mindless optimism!) get started writing Nonfiction Blockbuster, I will be done enough with VikingsNovel to either put it away to let it start maturing, or be shopping it, in turn, around to agents or publishers.

But that could be my internet-deprived brain shorting out. Who knows.

Meanwhile, stay tuned for me to throw a party to celebrate my finishing the writing of my manuscript. it's a pity that nobody who lives nearby in meatspace would understand what a simultaneously huge and trivial thing that is. Finishing it is essential to the forward progress of the rest of the process, and yet... the rest of the process may well take another decade. It will certainly not be on shelves this year, not even if God Himself likes the manuscript so much he comes to my house to pick it up.
In case anyone was curious, this is one of those songs that's to the same tune as Rosc Catha Na Mumhan. It appears to be of Civil War vintage (Irish Civil War), and refers to a sort of ragtag British force of ex-military bullyboys who did all sorts of wonderfully awful things. Etcetera. So no, not about drinking.

Not to say that I think Jackdaw's great yet, but I'm giving them a real shot. They can't be that awful.

Which is not what I was going to post about. I actually forget what I was going to post about. I am in the midst of making dinner. I'd considered going out, but then, nothing struck me as all that tempting, and I know Z already ate lunch out today, which means if we go out again it'll be sort of too much for him, and honestly, I haven't washed my hair and don't really think leaving the house is that great an idea.

Proof of how very housewifely I really am is in the fact that I just found a tiny shard of broken glass in my iPod case. I was trying to deal with the Sink Full Of Fucking Dishes Jesus Christ (Z made dinner last night, and it involved using Almost All Of The Outsize Pots And Pans That Don't Fit In The Sink Let Alone Dishwasher-- not that I didn't appreciate the grilled shrimp and rice noodles, I just can't actually get into the sink to do any dishes) and dropped a glass onto myself trying to unearth the faucet. Oops. At least it was one of the little ones. I have an assload of those damn little ones.

In other news I have done some Cleaning today and now have my computer back on my desk. We'll see how long this lasts.



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