Progress notes for 29 November 2005:
New Words: 602
Total Words: 3562
Reason for stopping: Unfortunately, this book appears to need some antagonists in addition to a plot. Demanding things, books.
It's suffering from Slow Character Development Syndrome. Some days, the characters show up clamoring to be included. In this case, however, I'm having to send out to Central Casting and troll neighborhood soda counters for likely prospects.
Mammalian Assistance: Paladin is giving me back for some reason. I suspect he wants pizza.
Exercise: walked about three and a half miles.
Mail: The Agony Column comments on the Jenny books. It's not so much a review as an analysis of the form, but I'm pretty geeked about it.
Today's words Word don't know: neoteny
Words I'm surprised Word do know: n/a
Tyop du jour: vestigial winds
Darling du jour: n/a. This is going to be another one of the books where most of the darlings are dependent on context.
Mean things: a frognapping!
Books in Progress: The Adams-Jefferson Letters;
Spam name du jour: Conks H. Humiliate
Other writing-related work: Staring at the introduction for the Katrina chapbook.
Interesting tidbits: Via one of the many fannish mailing lists I lurk on (I think it was Channel D, but I archived the email and am too lazy to look it up now) The Box O' Truth, a really fantastic site devoted to researching firearms penetration of various media. Or, in layman's terms, shooting stuff up.
Moral: If you want to shoot a lock off something, carry a shotgun.
Basically, if you want to bust anything up, carry a shotgun.
See? PODS was right. (A joke that four people reading this will get, and no, I'm not explaining it.)
Shotguns! They have a million helpful uses!
This sight is sort of a combination Mythbusters and Mail Call, only exclusively concentrating on firearms.
Meanwhile, museum of minims does not review Angels and Demons. It's not a review, she says, because: reviews should be thoughtful and informative.
"I did finish "Angels & Demons," though at the time the nearest bookstore was 30,000 miles below me, and obtaining the only other viable reading material — a Wired magazine — would have required a brief scuffle with the passenger clutching it."
That's the funniest thing I've read all week.