Today is the last day of August, which means it’s the eve of a new year. My years always start in September, my favorite month. The weather is perfect, there’s excitement in the air, and you can hear high school bands practicing in the distance. Also, that’s my birthday month, so yay me (waving to all you Virgos out there).
It’s also Trail Mix Day, if you want to be picky, but for me, it’s New Year’s Eve.
I’m reading Krissie’s work-in-progree (working title: “34th St. Time Travel”) and enjoying it tremendously (while I take apart the structure, of course). She’s reading the latest draft of Nita, while taking apart the characterization, of course.
So what are you reading? Taking anything apart?
This week, Krissie and I are working on our books. SO much more fun to work with a friend.
What are you working on, friend?
I was getting ready for Krissie’s visit (she’s here!) and scrubbed my dirty floors with spray cleaner with bleach. Then I noticed I was breathing funny and coughing. I’m still coughing and hacking today because I poisoned myself with bleach fumes. Awful. And now, because of that bastard Tom Hiddleston, I have to drive Krissie to Rockaway to catch the bus to NYC so she can see him in a Pinter play. (I like Hiddleston, Pinter not so much.) Also in Rockaway, the Genius Bar and Panera for bread, although I may just come back home and try to breath. All of which is to say, I may not be around much until Saturday when Krissie heads home in Labor Day traffic and I should have my lungs back. Fortunately, you guys are self-sufficient. Regular posts will go up automatically so no worries. And now I must go cough some more.
Feel free to use the comments to discuss your own cleaning mishaps so I don’t feel like such an idiot. (It’s normal to breath in bleach in cleanser!)(No, it’s not.)
No, not my puppy, Pat Gaffney’s, but I am an aunt. Every time I look at Claudia’s pictures, I feel joyful. Lucky Pat. Lucky Claudia to belong to Pat. Lucky Aunt Jenny to get puppy pictures in e-mail. Puppy-happy all the time.
How were you happy as a new puppy rolling in the fresh-cut grass this week?
Today is Knife Day.
One of the things I did in revamping my kitchen was to buy four good knives, which was probably one more than I needed. My daughter suggested CutCo knives which are pricey (to say the least) so I bought a paring knife and a chef’s knife, figuring those were all I’d need. Then I realized I needed a good bread knife and Epicurious suggested Mison and I bit and bought their bread knife, which is great and about half the price of CutCo (although still pricey). Later I went back and added a Sanku which I also love but which is probably so close to the chef’s knife that it wasn’t necessary. And of course I still have a full panoply of cheap knives which I use to open boxes and bags and do general utility stuff, pitching them as they break or dull because really, CutCo and Mison have me covered. Broke, but covered.
A good kitchen knife is a wonderful thing. Happy Knife Day!
I’ve finally got Nita’s soundtrack down and realized that I soundtrack in acts and arcs, too. The first pass (discovery soundtrack?) is just songs that seem to fit, not sure where or why, so there are usually a couple of dozen. But the more I zero in on the characters and the plot, the more songs fall off the list, and I start looking at what’s left in terms of character and plot arc.
Continue readingMy head is full of my own books–another WiP just popped up in my brain and is demanding attention–so I haven’t had a chance to read this week. Except my own stuff and Krissie’s, which is pretty damn good, even if we do have structure problems. Well, I have structure problems.
What did you read this week, structure problems or not?
This is one of those I’m-working-on-everything weeks: book, collage, Krissie’s book, shawl, laundry, kitchen, living room, guest room, bathroom, getting the trash out, clipping Mona, dogs to the vet . . . I don’t see it all getting done. But bird by bird . . .
What birds are you working on this week?
Krissie just posted about her own revision turmoil. Her story parallels mine, except she is convinced of her own vision (as she should be) and I keep second-guessing mine. Well, she’s Anne Stuart, Drama Queen and Romance Legend; I’m the slut peasant in the kitchen, thinking about bok choy and Tamari with a side of strawberry ice cream. Still, it’s heartening to know she’s gung ho, and her book is really good, so now I’m feeling better about mine.
Conclusion: Friends are important in a writing career. Krissie is essential.