Truly, I have used my power for good.
Progress notes for 12 March 2008.
New words: 1197
Things Chaz/Hafidha ate/contemplated eating/threatened to eat: No food for them!
New words: 1920
Total words: 17728
Deadline: April 15
Mammalian assistance: elderly complaining cat is elderly and complaining
Reason for stopping: Falling asleep in my chair
This entire book is middle, I swear. The damned thing is like pulling teeth. My own teeth. With jeweler's pliers. Where is the fun?
I did hit a state of flow yesterday for a little--in the afternoon, after I had gotten about 800 words, the next four hundred came fluidly. However, it seems deeply unfair that I should have to hack through three pages of misery to get a page and a half that goes sort of well.
Darling du jour: the limbs sprung and swayed as if gravity luffed for a moment in the vicinity, and when they sagged again a patter of unripe olives struck the earthen deck.
Jury-rigging: "Saints be praised! The cook survived!"
Other writing-related work: Revising the Zombie Rock Stars. Writing a thing for Green Man Review. Copyedits on "Dexterity." Started critiquing "A Handful of Dust." And read over a revision request for "King Pole, Gallows Pole, Bottle Tree," which revision I need to try to do tonight after climbing.
Exercise: Climbing Monday, and for the first time ashacat came with me.
I finally sent that 5.8 on the slab wall that I have been floundering at for a week It's my first 5.8, and while it was tricky it was not undoable. Which tells me that my problem is yes, strength/weight ratio, not balance. We're shocked. (Why am I not losing weight? Damned if I know. It's not caloric intake or lack of exercise. Ah well. My body will get with the program eventually. It can't invent calories, even when it seems like it is. Law of motherfucking thermogoddamits, Meat Puppet. I win.) In addition, I did a 5.6 I'd done before (almost gracefully this time), got about fifteen feet higher on a 5.7 than last time (stuck on a tricky move getting around a corner now) and climbed an overhang the gym alleges is a 5.5 but I think is really a 5.6. It may be a 5.5 if you're a boy and can just haul yourself over the lip by being strong at it.
My right elbow has been bothering me. Stupid elbow. It's the one I gave myself tennis elbow in by hyperextending it on my 35th birthday, which I celebrated by helping netcurmudgeon tear the roof off a shed with sledgehammers. (Only I would give myself tennis elbow with a sledgehammer.) Anyway, it took six months for that to fix itself, so I'm (a) going to talk to my massage therapist about it next Friday and (b) try not to fuck it up any further between now and then.
ashacat, of course, sent a 5.6 on her second climb ever. I've created a monster.
Also, I went for a walk Tuesday, which leads to:
Miles to Lothlorien: 251.4.
Guitar practice: Duncan, Hallelujah, finger-picking
Mail: I sold the Zombie Rock Star story. I'm not sure I'm allowed to tell you where yet, however.
Today's words Word don't know: irising, wingbeats, stagily, luffed,
Words I'm Surprised Word Do Know: oleaginous, singsong
Sustenance: Chili, which didn't come out very well. Eggplant parm, which did, but my body seems unhappy with it.
Mean Things: Necromancers do not always tell you everything they know. Tricksy necromancers.
The Internet is Full of Things: Tanita Tikaram live, on youtube.