August 27th, 2009

criminal minds reid runs like a girl

i want to walk away start all over again

My virtue is untrammeled unequalled.

Or something.

In just a minute here I am going to go upstairs and take a shower, and then I am going to come back down and get another five or six pages on The White City, come hell or high water, even though I have no clue what the hell is going on here, before I go to archery at six. But so far this morning I did get up and take the dog for a three-mile run (there were breaks with walking bits in there) during which we almost got hit by some asswipe who couldn't respect the crosswalk while making a left turn from a stop sign and then she had the termerity to give ME the hairy eyeball, as if you know, being in an expensive car and wearing too much makeup somehow automatically gives you the right of way over the pedestrian in the crosswalk with the Shakespeare T-shirt and the hairy dog. So what, you ask, makes that so virtuous?

Reader, I did not flip her off.

But oh, I thought about it.

In other news, I'm not wearing any pants.
rengeek player king

hey dad can I have the keys to the kingdom?

Leverage's John Rogers is sane about fanfic:

1.) I think fanfic is the sign of a healthy show. Here's what it boils down to: you're telling me that in today's crowded media space, our show made someone love it so much they take time out of their own life to talk about it? Holy. Crap.
More. (Scroll down.) Or hell, read his whole post. He's funny, and I like his show.

Also, I pretty much agree with him. Fanfic is a sign of love. I mean, I'm not going to read it. But I'm totally cool with it.

And now I have another page or two to write before lunch.
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writing plot octopus

you can't start it like a car. you can't stop it with a gun.

1316 words on The White City today, tot a total of  16,801. Apparently if I let my brain describe setting, build narrative structure, and provide character snark for long enough, it'll start developing a plot in self-defense, as I figured out a bunch of things today which will prove useful when it comes to actually giving the current amorplous blob of story some shape and tension.

I've just kind of been thrashing around writing down stuff as I think of it and trusting that the part of my brain that takes random bits of stuff and turns them into a story would eventually wake up from its nap and find uses for all the things I was providing it to play with. It's not how I write everything, but it does seem to be a trending process of mine currently, and hey, it works.

For example, when writing Bone & Jewel Creatures, I wrote a draft of the whole damned novella except the last twenty pages and then more or less ignored it for half a year or so. And then bang, figured out how it all had to hang together.

I dunno how this brain works. I just live in it. I'm sure it will be something else next novel. I never do manage to write any two books or stories the same way.

My favorites are the ones that fall out of my head pull-formed and perfect, but those are rare. By the Mountain Bound. "Lucifugous." "The Chains that You Refuse." "Sonny Liston Takes the Fall." Nice when it works out that way, though. Like story eggs dropped from God's hand into my head, requiring only some but in chair to turn them into works of art.

Those days, I really could believe in the Muse, except for the part where I can probably tell you which bit of my life or reading or rampant information-gathering each detail comes from.  

Now, having fulfilled my quota, it's time to knock off, eat something, and watch last night's episode of Leverage. And maybe answer an email or two before I practice guitar and get ready to go to archery.

Or maybe I'll just fall asleep on the couch. I tell ya. The weather has broken, and I love living in New England. It's 72 and gorgeous.
criminal minds fate

my baby's leaving town on the 2:19

I'm boosting signal for gehayi, a disabled fellow Connecticut resident who stands to be seriously affected by proposed changes to Connecticut's social services.

Having lived in Nevada, which has much worse social safety nets than Connecticut does, I can tell you up front what the results of cutting such programs are: increased homelessness and mortality rates, to put it quite simply.

If you live here and consider yourself a compassionate human being, I urge you to contact your state legislative representatives.

Remember, they work for you.

(Handy form to tell you who they are and how to get ahold of them is here.)