they must need bears

[21:56] matociquala: Dear Herr Professor Egon Schroeder, please do not resort to B-movie dialogue.
[21:56] matociquala: Love, Bear
[21:57] stillsostrange: P.S. Don't cross the streams
[21:58] matociquala: Heee
[21:58] stillsostrange: P.P.S. If someone asks you if you're a god, you say yes.
[21:59] stillsostrange: I want a short story
[21:59] matociquala: P.P.P.S. Have a plan.
[21:59] matociquala: Better than "Grab him."
[21:59] cristalia: heeee
[21:59] katallen: ::resigns to the earworming::
[21:59] cristalia: someone blog that?  *g*
[21:59] stillsostrange: Where is a short story that will love me?
[21:59] katallen: under the couch cushions
[21:59] matociquala: Well, it's my story. I guess it should be me.
[22:00] stillnotbored: your story is with the end of my novel
[22:00] stillnotbored: somewhere in the South of France
[22:01] cristalia: ooh.
[22:01] cristalia: we could chase it in Minis.
[22:01] cristalia: through twisty highways.
[22:01] stillnotbored: and policemen in funny hats could blow whistles

1005 words on "The Red in the Sky is Our Blood" today, by the skin of my persistence, to a total of 5013. And I think I'm stuck, at least until I figure out what the revolutionaries want with the Russian mobster's ex, and why on earth she would agree to help them.

So tomorrow, in the interests of making progress on something with a looming deadline, I'm going to give the Sebastien Novella Still In Need Of A Title some rope, and see if it will write me an opening.

Excelsior!

Our Heroine: Okay, Brain! It's time to write a novel!
Our Heroine's Brain: You have got to be kidding me.
OH: Nope! Let's get cracking! Deadline is looming!
OHB: You realize my last day off was March 9th?
OH: The deadline waits for no brain!
OHB: You realize that I have written an average of 2,194.176 words a day for you every day since March 9th?
OH: So? There's still one hundred eighty pages of book we need to write. And today is that scene in Engineering, where you get to introduce what's-her-name.
OHB: So, I have needs, you stupid selfish neocortex. And besides, you can't make me. I'm on strike.
OH: Just one little sentence?
OHB: Not on your life. Wheedling won't work. I'm taking the day off. This is not negotiable.
OH: ...
OHB: We are, you know, on schedule. Even a little ahead.
OH: ...
OHB: And you are a scary obsessive personality who needs to lighten up.
OH: You're only just noticing that now? Besides, most of that is your fault.
OHB: Besides, you have to run errands this afternoon. And then you have a dinner date. So as soon as you got started you would have to quit and go do something else.
OH: ...well, I guess we could do laundry. We really need to do laundry.
OHB: See? You have been working on the novel so much that you don't even have clean socks. Also, you need to go to the post office and the bank.
OH: Well...
OHB: Yes?
OH: ...what if we take the day off, and try again after dinner?
OHB: ...I'll think about it.

It amuses the heck out of me, how much it annoys me when I can detect my own auctorial voice heavily present in a sentence or a paragraph. And then I want to go back and edit until I can get the tics and characteristic phrasings out.

Hello, Bear? Developing an identifiable style is part of what this is all about. Just, you know, try not to turn into Heinlein.

[14:46] matociquala: we forgive the Christians many trespasses for the annual influx of jelly beans
[14:46] matociquala: especially the licorice ones
[14:47] cristalia: We forgive them for the paid day off right in the heart of essay-deadline season.  *g*
[14:47] matociquala: Hee
[14:48] matociquala: Good Friday isn't a formal holiday in the US
[14:48] cristalia: It's a stat here.  Everything closes.
[14:48] matociquala: *nod*
[14:48] cristalia: Alas, the Monday is optional and they're making me go to school.
[14:48] matociquala: Alas.
[14:48] matociquala: other people's holidays are nice
[14:49] matociquala: You get a day off without obligations
[14:51] cristalia: Yes.
[14:51] cristalia: Although the closing the grocery stores is less fun.
[14:51] matociquala: yes
[14:52] matociquala: mostly grocery stores do not close here
[14:52] matociquala: Or just in the afternoons on major holidays
[14:52] matociquala: because we are a soulless capitalist society that worships only convenience and the greenback dollar.
[14:52] matociquala: But we do get mail on Saturdays.

1 AM:

Cat: *sits on manuscript*
Monkey: *removes cat*
Cat: *sits on manuscript*
Monkey: *removes cat*
Cat: *sits on manuscript*
Monkey: *removes cat*
Cat: *sits on manuscript*
Monkey: *removes cat*
Cat: *sits on manuscript*
Monkey: *removes cat*
Cat: *sits on manuscript*
Monkey: *removes cat*

(etc)


2 AM:

Monkey: Cat, the CEM is done. I'm going to bed.
Cat: *sleeps on couch*


3 AM:

Cat: *wakes up alone in the living room. wanders around the apartment crying in distress*
Monkey: Grah? Wha? Cat, I'm in the bedroom!
Cat: *wanders around the apartment crying in distress*
Monkey: Cat! I'm in BED!
Cat: *wanders around the apartment crying in distress*
Monkey: Cat! I'm in! The bedroom!
Cat: *wanders into bedroom, crying in distress*
Monkey: Cat?
Cat: Oh! There you are! You should have told me you were going to bed!
Cat: *settles in beside monkey, purring*
Monkey: ...


4 AM:

Cat: *walks on monkey's hair*
Monkey: *swipes at cat*
Cat: *walks on monkey's hair*
Monkey: *swipes at cat*
Cat: *walks on monkey's hair*
Monkey: *swipes at cat*
Cat: *walks on monkey's hair*
Monkey: *swipes at cat*
Cat: *walks on monkey's hair*
Monkey: *scruffs cat, picks her up, shakes her gently, and tosses her off the bed*
Cat: *huff*


5 AM:

Cat: *sleeps*
Monkey: *sleeps*


6 AM:

Cat: *sleeps*
Monkey: *turns off alarm*
Monkey: *sleeps*


7 AM:

Cat: *sleeps*
Monkey: *sleeps*
Cat: *wakes*
Monkey: *sleeps*
Cat: *pesters*
Monkey: *sleeps*
Cat: *pesters*
Monkey: *sleeps*
Cat: *pesters*
Monkey: *swipes*
Cat: (brightly) As long as you're up, I can haz brekfest????
Monkey: No more computer for you.


8 AM:

Cat: *pesters*
Monkey: *washes dishes*
Cat: *pesters*
Monkey: *waters plants*
Cat: *cries*
Monkey: *flicks water at cat*
Cat: *cries AND pesters*
Monkey: *sets bread dough to rise*
Cat: *cries*
Monkey: There is food in your bowl, you little monster.


9 AM:

Monkey: *plugs in Crock Pot*
Cat: 0.0 !
Cat: *nowhere to be seen*
Monkey: Right. Guess I'd better actually try to get some work done....
Cat: Huh. You're not busy? Well, I guess you can pet me. Move that laptop, please?

I'm up, and the email is shoveled out, and the birds are singing, and the cat decided to sleep in the exact middle of my pillow all last night, so my neck is less than happy. Plans for today include a long hot shower, putting on some pants, making some tea, and settling in the the *&%(& page proofs until about 1:30, at which point I am meeting ashacat at the gym. We will then join netcurmudgeon for tea and whatever, and eventually archery and supper. And then I will come home and attempt to finish the page proofs tonight. If I can do that, then tomorrow, I can either take a vacation day (the only thing scheduled is a visit to my massage therapist) or I can start writing Chill, if the antsiness has gotten unbearable by then.

I'm totally geeked that I am in fact starting to feel the book-antsiness. It means my boredom with not creating is starting to overwhelm my mental exhaustion. And I know what the next two scenes I need to write are, which is good: it means that if I am lucky, I will be able to keep one scene ahead of myself in the planning process. So, watch this place for resumed writing metrics shortly, and thrashing and whining. And all the good things that come with book-production.

One reason I keep metrics is that it keeps me honest about how much work I am doing and how much time I need to do it in. And not in the sense of "I need to be reminded that I need to keep working," but "I need to be reminded that when I work I accomplish things, and that these tasks are not insurmountable." Because I tend to underestimate the amount of work I'm doing, and get very mad at myself if I'm not producing consistent large blocks of completed pages. But then I look at my tracking list, and realize that what seems to me the spotty and intermittent work I did on Dust actually resulted in a book in very short order. And I think, come on, Bear, this is not as hard as you make it out to be.

Speaking of which, it's 17 degrees out, and it's 7 am, and it's time I got myself cleaned up and got to work. Beware the page proofs! Beware!

Yes, I have successfully wasted the last two hours.

Okay, not exactly wasted. I showered, and made breakfast, and made tea, and made orange juice. And caught up on whatever internets regenerated overnight.

And now I need to go work on the page proofs, because that tea ain't drinking itself. But I'm stalling.

Page proofs. Do not want.

So here, have a link to the pre-order page for Fast Ships, Black Sails, a pirate-themed SFF anthology edited by Jeff and Ann VanderMeer, in which truepenny and I have a story called "Boojum," and which also includes stories by folks like Kage Baker, Michael Moorcock, Howard Waldrop, Garth Nix, and Naomi Novik.

[15:51] cristalia: I really need the good Thai restaurant to deliver.
[15:51] cristalia: I have the beginnings of a cold in my ears.
[15:51] cristalia: I require tom kha.
[15:52] matociquala: tom kha cures all
[15:53] cristalia: O Green Mango, why do you forsake me?
[15:54] chrisbillett: Oh, Thai. Yes.
[15:59] stillnotbored: gah...I need more aspirin and sudafed
[15:59] stillnotbored: brb
[16:00] stillnotbored: *tries not to die loudly*
[16:01] stillnotbored: I think Bea gave me her internet flu
[16:02] matociquala: She was blaming Chaz's fictional flu as patient zero
[16:02] matociquala: so your flu isn't real
[16:02] stillnotbored: I'll inform my sinus cavities they are fictional
[16:02] chrisbillett: You have fictioned it!
[16:03] cristalia: *yells THE END at sinuses*
[16:03] stillnotbored: thank you
[16:04] matociquala: *sinuses produce beas*
[16:04] stillnotbored: that should do it
[16:04] matociquala: er, bears
[16:04] cristalia: *bears eat neighbours*
[16:04] matociquala: and bring back tom kha
[16:04] matociquala: everybody happy
[16:04] chrisbillett: Epilogue: Sinuses holiday in the south of France

I got up this morning at 6:15 or so.

Since I decided to try to re-read Dust and start thinking about what I need to do for Chill, I have:

Put a chicken in to roast
Made tea
Eaten breakfast
Started a loaf of corn bread with sweet corn and chilis in it
Realized that the loaf was too big and sticky for the bread machine, so taken it out and hand-kneaded more flour in, subdivided it, frozen half, and stuck the other half back in the machine
Started chicken stock
Fed the cat
Cleaned a pen
Found my notebook
Washed a sink full of dishes (I typed "sing full of juices," first time. Ladies and gentlemen, my brain.)
Made orange juice
Taken my vitamins and parted out the next three days' doses of same into the thing on the counter
Thought about what to eat with the chicken, later, besides corn bread

Yup.

Only thing left is scrubbing the tub and hitting "refresh" on livejournal and the Shadow Unit BBS a couple more times....

I think my brain votes for more vacation.
Silly brain.

The really no I mean it this time unexpurgated re-expurgated director's cut of Bladerunner, no shit this time for sure.

[07:43] jmeadows: you could think about the novel and flirt with it
[07:43] matociquala: That's a good plan.
[07:43] jmeadows: maybe it'll ask you on a date
[07:43] matociquala: Maybe!
[07:44] matociquala: I think I might be ready for a new relationship.
[07:44] matociquala: Maybe I should reread Dust.
[07:44] matociquala: I could take a copy and mark it up. *g*
[07:44] matociquala: That might be fun.
[07:44] jmeadows: hee
[07:44] matociquala: And it would be like work.
[07:44] jmeadows: just imagine the changes are being made in everyone else's copy too
[07:45] matociquala: and less like being a giant slug.
[07:45] matociquala: hee
[07:45] jmeadows: some poor fan out there is reading, and suddenly words rearrange themselves, whole sentences vanish....
[07:46] matociquala: ooo. It would be like being George Lucas.

Okay, definitely in That State. Which is to say, I have the itch to write, and the deadline loometh. But none of this stuff is ripe yet. So I walk around like a pregnant cow, lowing plaintively, searching for something I'm sure is just around here somewhere except I don't know what it is.

I will, however, know it when I see it.

Current plan may be some recharge time: climbing tonight, then a new episode of Criminal Minds (the second to the last one). Tomorrow, maybe gym and archery. And Friday there's a John Gorka concert at the Iron Horse, and Saturday... nothing. Somewhere in there, my brain will generate some story out of sheer self-preservation, I'm sure of it.

One of the hardest things for me as a writer is knowing when I need some fallow time. And being willing to take it, even when there's a naggy voice in the back of my head saying butbutbutbutbutbut you have a book due April 15.

Well, technically June 1, because I asked for an extension. But it would be nice to finish by April 15 anyway. You know? (And a novella due also, sometime in the first half of the year. Oh, and a couple of short stories.)

Here's the thing, though. I can try to push through, and it will be blood and swearing and guts on the floor. Or I can sit back, relax, and let my brain have the down time to stop pacing like that expectant cow-mommy, and the book may slide into existence easily and with maximum fun. And wouldn't that be nice?

Because I don't get health insurance or a pension plan. So I might as well get fun.

463 words on a Shadow Unit DVD extra last night, and that means I can stop fussing with that stuff for a while except for the part where I have to polish it before it can be posted, and eventually revise "Overkill" for web-pub.

Oh, and today I need to pay bills. Like really, no kidding. I wonder where I hid all my envelopes.

Maybe I should just go buy some.

Heh.

warblogging the CEM continues....


[12:58] matociquala: (Why this is hell, nor am I out of it.)
[13:05] matociquala: My god, I have only sixtyfive pages to go
[13:05] cristalia: it's full of stars?
[13:05] matociquala: well, buggery
[13:06] matociquala: which is like stars
[13:06] cristalia: heeeeeeeee
[13:06] cristalia: blog that one.
[13:06] matociquala: you're on.