September 11th, 2006

bear by san

You can't get to heaven on roller skates

Yesterday, I had lunch and dinner with Marie and Trevor, two old friends. In between, Trevor and I went geocaching. Which is to say, we girded our loins, he loaned me a GPS device, and we ventured into Gay City State Park to use (as his t-shirt said) multi-billion-dollar military satellites to locate tupperware hidden in the woods.

The idea is that one uses one's GPS (there are apparently people who do this with compasses and topo maps and sextants and so forth, but I for one am really not that dedicated to anything, and I do write my books mostly on computers) to get into the general location of a cache, and then one resorts to observational skills and a fine-honed knowledge of human psychology to figure out where somebody might have hidden a plastic container full of toys. In practice, this means that one blunders through mosquito-infested swamps until noticing the glint of plastic. *g* (There are refinements, but this is the basic idea.)

When [IF!] one finds the cache in question, one makes a note in its logbook, and swaps one of the objects within for something one has carried in.

...and the reason we do this, as my mother once said to me when I was quite young and she was explaining why people might drink to excess, is under the supposition that it is fun.

(Guess where I get my sense of humor from.)

I am now richer by one plastic shark, a deck of playing cards, and a resin dragon with a repaired wing. And boy does my lower back hurt.
bear by san

You say just let go. You say come back home. I say I'm just falling from grace.

And with a gurgle and a swish, the CEM for Whiskey & Water goes under the bridge. So to speak.

I really like this book a lot. Oh, yes I do. I caught myself rereading bits of it for fun as I was working on it.

I particularly liked this bit:

She snorted and picked up a knife.

"Aren't you supposed to reassure me now?"

"Man," she said, "let me reassure you. This is going to hurt like hell."


*pets book*

Pretty book.

Just the galleys left to worry about now.

bear by san

Because I'm revamping my web page (slowly but surely) and needed to put this list somewhere:

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In addition, here is my to-do list for the long fiction:

Undertow revision (when the notes arrive)
By the Mountain Bound revision (ongoing)

Dust proposal (soonish, like)
The Stratford Manrevision (if it sells and there are notes)
All the Windwracked Stars rewrite (ongoing, will become a priority if it sells)
The Sea thy Mistress revision (low priority)

A policeman's work is never done.
bear by san

Bobby says it's fine. He don't consider it cheating.

Ten more ways in which writing is just like life:

1. Car crashes are interesting, especially when they're happening to somebody else.

2. Getting up is easier than getting down.

3. If you act like you meant to do that, sometimes people will believe you.

4. Cut to suit, hammer to fit, paint to match.

5. You can lift more than you think.

6. Swing for the fences.

7. Latent learning is essential, but

8. Practice habituates.

9. It's not as hard as it looks, unless it's harder than you think.

10. The accelerator is more likely to get you out of trouble than the brake.