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bear by san

March 2017

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rengeek kit faustus commodorified

Alert and oriented. After a fashion.

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!

Comments

*yawn*
Mornin' Bear.
*headdesk*
Are you headesking because of being up so damned early, or some other reason?
That's a remarkably helpful observation -- that connexion between metrics and honesty and even more in terms of accomplishment. I'm prone to see the holes and failings first. Thank you for such a -- to me, anyway -- stunning and surprising and *good* insight.
May Chill go well.
You're very welcome.

I need something concrete that I can show the guilt gorilla, so it will SHUT UP and leave me alone.

GG: "You haven't done hardly anything all week! U SUKK!!!!"

Our Heroine: "Not so! Look, I wrote 1200 words yesterday and 800 today!"

GG: "That's not enough! You'll never hit your deadline! You'll STARRRRRRRVE! U SUKK!"

OH: "Not so! This is the same pace I kept writing Dust, and look, I finished that in two months! BIT ME GG!"

GG: "..."
GG: "Bitch."
If it helps, I thought that both Dust and Undertow were extremely awesome, and I hold you up as an example of good writing, with concrete examples of your skills, to folks here.
Thank you very much. It does help: I have a tendency to be quite hard on myself.

Though I did just find a sentence in Ink & Steel that made me smile and go "I wrote that?!"
I am both amused and charmed that "putting on some pants" is an explicit part of your to-do list. Because there are days when, in the throes of Interesting Stuff To Do, I could completely skip that step without even realizing it.
Pants are totally overrated.
Before we got the enormo-bed, Uhura had a tendency to try to sleep pressed up against, or practically on my head. After one too many time of waking up to the wrong end of her pressed into my face *ahems* I decided to buy one of those little soft saucer beds and stick it between my pillow and the nightstand, which only required me shifting a few inches to one side. She took to it pretty immediately and loved it right up until we moved to a new place, and then she mysteriously stopped trying to sleep next to my head.

Cats are weird, we all knew that.
When my thermometer reads 17 degrees, it means I am in the wrong city. Gak.
It's warming up! It's getting on towards spring!
So the Story Goon gets treats soon? He's been very patient, but he's starting to drool on the floor under my desk, which is kind of gross.

Hee. Tell him to wait until next friday, and we'll see what we can do.

(Anonymous)

Dust

I bought it, started reading in the bath, and then climbed out 2 hours later with wrinkly toes. I blame you. I blame you and your fantastic book.

Re: Dust

Thank you!

Encouragement is muchly appreciated at this juncture.
I just actually watched your icon all the way through. There is now chai on my screen. It's your fault!
commodorified made it for me, because she has a similar one that nearly made me spit coffee.

At least working on The Stratford Man again is letting me break out the rengeeky icons.
I think your day needs more tea.
All days need more tea.