February 10th, 2010

criminal minds reid bitchy

a lie will take a lot less time

A 1.6 mile run is starting to be become trivial, which is nice. (Except the big hill, which I should really force myself to at least jog up.) Except it's not really enough exercise anymore to interrupt the Crabbiness Cycle. *sigh*

Gonna have to push it to two miles, I guess. OTOH, I've been under sixteen stone for two days in a row, which is like encouragement. (Just under; just barely.)

Climbing tonight is cancelled due to snowpocalypse, which is actually kind of a relief. I'm feeling massively overbooked.

The first flakes of the latest snowpocalypse have started. In a minute here I'm going to go shower, dress, make tea, eat something, and get started on Grail. Yesterday I edited what I have of chapters 6 and 7. Today I need to add a scene to chapter 7.

Repair guy is supposed to come today for the washer/dryer, though they never did call to schedule a time. I got a confirmation email, though. Guess I better get that shower done, huh?
criminal minds bad shirt brigade

if you make your bed in hell I will be there

I am very sad that I just had to turn down an opportunity to speak at SXSW interactive, because I was already committed to the Tucson Festival of Books. Because dude, talk about awesome.

However! I will be one of the guests of honor at Gaylaxicon over the Halloween weekend in Montreal, and I hope to see some of you there. (And perhaps go gothing once more?)

Proof copies of the secrit projekt (Which is called, predictably, Veronique is Visiting from Paris) I did with kylecassidy just arrived. We're still working on distribution and packaging, but the actual content looks gorgeous. Now I need to send these out to people I mean to importune for blurbs...

It has been one of those mornings that's really quite productive, even though no words have gotten written. I'm at a point with the scene I need to write where I know what it needs to do structurally, but the actual narrative content is a mystery to me. ($subantagonist needs to make contact with $antagonist, provide information to same, receive instructions, and get sinister all over the page. But the mechanics of the scene--what happens, as opposed to what it must accomplish--elude me.)

However, I did answer a ton of business email, buy my plane tickets for the TFOB and Shadow Unit Staff Meeting (aka CupCakeCon), and eat way too much brunch.

And the Snowpocalypse has finally arrived, which is good, because I need to shovel off some of that toast if I'm going to earn hot cocoa and schnapps later on. Snow, little snowpocalypse! SNOW!

All right. Time to make tea and quit faffing about. At the very least, I should be staring at this scene if I cannot yet write it.

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rengeek fucking silence

i walked these streets before i ever knew your name

Well, I got the Missing Scene for Ch. 7 of Grail written to the tune of 580 words. This was all harder than it had to be because of a massive attacks of bad brain chemicals*. Now I am consoling myself with milkfat (hot cocoa) and booze (schnapps). And there is delivery Indian on the way. Sadly, I suppose the funny man with the lovely phone voice is not on the menu....

...yeah, that would be the schnapps on an empty stomach talking.

This is a sad, sad excuse for a snowpocalypse so far.

Left on tonight's to-do list:

Eat my weight in curry and poori
Front page thingy for SU
Edit next chapter
Blog post for Charlie's Diary
Sign and package books and postcards to mail (this is so getting bumped to tomorrow)
Watch Criminal Minds and Leverage.



*I'm out about this, but I don't talk about it much because it's boring. I'm ultra-rapid-cycling (ultradian) bipolar I with comorbid post-traumatic stress. However, I have been this way for a long fucking time, and it's old now. But I guess as some sort of Minor Internet Celebrity (who does she think she is?) it's incumbent upon me to represent for the Bad Brain  Chemical crowd.

Normally, my bad brain chemicals are pretty amenable to exercise as a treatment option, but today all the running and yoga did were change me from irritated, anxious, self-hating, and sad to sad sad sad. Of course, I've had so much cognitive training and self-training at this point that I am more or less capable of looking at that and going "Gee, that's totally neurochemical!" and then tracking down the trigger and intellectualizing the hell out of it.

Which does not actually make me less sad or triggery or whatever. But it does keep me from acting on it.

Bipolar has such a high suicide rate because it's so much fucking work.

criminal minds gideon and morgan gun

procreate and pay your taxes

5) Etsy unicorn porn shop. Do I have to say this is NSFW?

3) I think I'm cashing it in on work tonight. I have realized that part of what's wrong with me right now is post-novel ennui, pursuant to The White City and The Unicorn Evils. Fine, fine, I only have a hundred and fifty pages left to write. I can afford to ignore this for a little while and let my creative facility refill. 

4) Man, I fail alcoholic writer. I have to quit at three or I am up all night, and alcohol is not better than insomnia.

2) I just now realized that Benedick Conn as I am writing him is one part Chris Smither and one part Jamie Hyneman*.

1) I still miss wilfulcait



*Wikipedia tells me Mr. Hyneman is 53. I want skin texture and shoulder muscles like that when *I* am 53.

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