January 28th, 2014


where have all the flowers gone?

Item: I was actually in tears this morning when I heard of Pete Seeger's death. Just saw him in 2011, I think, at a fundraiser for church in Middletown. It was raining like a son of a gun.

pecunium is right. Pete would say: "Don't mourn; organize."

Still, an American hero has left us. And I feel like that demands a moment of recognition.


Item: (The following possibly triggery for weight and fitness stuff; skip if that bothers you.)

Fitness is a lifetime commitment...

...and I will keep telling myself that. I had made a pretty good comeback after slacking during all that travel last fall--was back up to an 11 mile run for my long day, and was climbing regularly and working on getting back into yoga two or three times a week.

And then the cold snap and the book deadline hit. -20 wind chill is a real disincentive to get out and run, let me tell you.

Anyway, I have been managing to get to the climbing gym. And last night I stuck around after climbing and hit the elliptical for some hard intervals. AND did a little kettlebell. I was doing swings with the 40 pounder, and they were hard, but I didn't kill anybody! (My friend ashacat and I also played catch with a 14-kilo medicine ball. That was fun. And heavy.)

I've been more or less maintaining weight despite somewhat lackadaisical discipline, which is encouraging, but I've been claiming for two years now that I'm going to get this last thirtyish pounds off for the sake of my climbing and my joints and--hell--my vanity.

(I got rid of fifteen of it at one point, and then ten of that crept back. And then I got rid of ten, and five has crept back. It's the long stints of traveling that my job entails that do me in. Hotel food is the devil.)

Still, I've been stable in the low 190s despite holidays and cold and only intermittent exercise and occasional Restaurant Incidents and the Hobbit-related alcohol consumption.

I think I can knuckle down and make this happen. I have a size 10 dress that I want to wear for fancy this summer, and I can get it on, but I can't zip it--so now it's hanging by my bedroom mirror. Inspiration!

Also, I'm running in my second half-marathon in June. So I'd better make sure I get back into training and stay there. It's the Sour Grapes trail run in Brainerd, Minnesota.

My climbing-related goals are to climb 5.10 consistently and start work on 5.11s, and to take a sport lead climbing class. Those are trickier, because my time in Wisconsin leads to much less climbing. But since my new climbing gym also offers weights and cardio stuff... Thursday I plan to hit the rowing machine and do weights after climbing. Whee!

And Friday or this weekend, depending on weather, a six mile run. Before I lose the ability to do six mile runs. :P

I can't wait. *g*


And now I am going to finish this fucking book.

writing plot octopus

i huff to the store and i puff my way back

77000 / 80000 words. 96% done!

Surprising no-one, this isn't going to be done in another 3,000 words. But at this point, I just have to get everybody to the site of the climactic space battle, and get the climactic space battle to happen, and then there's some other stuff, and some denouement. I might be done in another 10,000 words. That's the plan, anyway.

It's not getting finished before Friday, either, I don't think, since try as I might I can't seem to get the damned thing to start rolling downhill and dragging me along behind it. It's been level-and-fulcrum work the whole way: It's going, and it's solid, but it could be a bit less hard.

Oh well. It's going. And that's what matters.

And it feels like a good book. It feels fun and playful and sharp, and there keep being bits of narration or dialogue that make me smirk while I'm writing them. That's always a good sign.

A lot of it is Karen's voice. My favorite sentence of hers today: "I don't know if it was the colors on his airship and his uniform that made me think Mister Captain Minneapolis Colony If That Was His Real Name Which I Doubt might be sympathetic, but I remembered Priya pointing them out, and that they'd made her homesick."

She's as much fun to write as Jenny was. She just doesn't run off at the mouth quite so much. More's the pity.