it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken
matociquala

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mama says you gotta go to the baptist fashion show

I wrote 1480 words on The White City this morning, finishing out a scene, setting up a frame job in an artist's studio (yeah, I couldn't resist), and bringing the page count to 16. This is progress. Oh, early days.

Murder mysteries are fun to write. For one thing, you don't have to come up with a Save The World plot. (I'm tired of Save The World plots. I think I have written too many, and the drive in SFF is always raise the stakes, raise the stakes.) For another, they're such tidy little machines, and you can hang all kinds of fun jewelry on them to make it sparkle and whirr.

Last night, I climbed. Alisa was off with her BF, so it was me and The Jeff. I'm pretty pleased with my performance. I have a little rotator cuff stiffness from a fall two weeks ago, when I popped both feet while I was at full arm extension at a funny angle, so I bailed early on the 5.8 (it's a really hard 5.8: another Prime Climb sandbag job) that is my current project wall.

I don't think I blogged it, but last Wednesday I got my other project wall, also a 5.8, which I have been working on for months. The move that had been stumping me somehow became more or less easy while I wasn't looking. Interesting how that works. It's still overhung, mind you, and there was a lot of arm-rubbing and crying afterwards, but I got it.

I also got a new 5.8 last week, which I repeated yesterday, and this time I managed to figure out a repeatable way to do it rather than clinging to a slopy crimper with my aching fingertips and scrabbling up to the next hold on tiny skiddy footholds before I popped off. Instead, I stayed under the crimper where it was more secure, brought my left foot over right in a hideously unbalanced move, and stood up and grabbed the next big jug right-handed while I was falling off. So full of hail-mary, as standuponit might say, that I had to get baptized. but at least it wasn't a dyno.

There's another new unrated climb on the same wall that replaces the 5.10- project wall I gave up on and never did send, which is also probably about a 5.8 or a hard 5.7, which I did send, and was pretty happy about. I also did a friendly old 5.7 I know well, and ran up and down a 5.6 for the downclimbing practice. Downclimbing, still hard. But it teaches you things about balance.

In other and unrelated news, Les Paul has died, aged 94. And Stew is on my radio, talking about Passing Strange. So now I am breaking for lunch and blogging, and then I'm going to go practice guitar and try to think up the first sentence of Grail while truepenny babysits the dire wolves. 
Tags: abby irene, falling off perfectly good rocks, jacob's ladder, the white city
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