Don is the second-least forthcoming POV character I've ever had. Page 500, and NOW he tells me about the sprawling extended family and the heart condition.
(The first-least-forthcoming was Jackie. I was on draft three of that sucker before he put out.)
Meanwhile, I've spent the morning researching the creolization of water spirits, because apparently the African snakes have realized that the European and Australian spirits are involved and Mami Wata and Aida Wedo want in on the game. Which means, I think, that on the second draft, poor recently-divorced Don is moving out of his walkup apartment and home with his sisters and his mother.
What a come-down. Forty-five, and living with your mom. I can tell I'm getting to the end of the draft, because the major "Oh, I need to make this huge wonking change that will alter the whole structure and feel of the book!" ideas are percolating in.
Progress notes for 9 June 2005:
Whiskey & Water
New Words: 1,286, and I'm very pleased with these words.
Total Words: 112,651 / 126,500
Notecards annihilated: Two
Mammalian Assistance: Poor Mith. Mebd is allowed back yard access, for she is wily and has claws. Mith, who is clever and clawless and sweet to all living things, is not allowed outside unsupervised. When Mebd came in this morning, Mith walked over to her and started to wash her ear... and she bopped him.
He looked so very affronted.
Stimulants: lime passion tea and lots of water. Summer is here!
Mail: nolove from SCIFICTION. Story good but too weird. *Stares thoughtfully in the general direction of Gavin and Kelly, while trying to remember whether the theme for the next "Say..." has been announced and when Flytrap re-opens.* I never have a damned story that fits Say.... Damn themes. Maybe Fortean Bureau? Damned weird stories. Maybe I should send it to Asimov's and give them a laugh.
Also, speaking if SCIFICTION, I hear a rumor that "And the Deep Blue Sea" got a nice review in Locus this month, but I haven't seen it yet. I think my nomailman is still reading my copy.
Today's words Word don't know: oxytocin, spatha, misremembered
Tyop du jour: cold fingers and outsides hands
Darling du jour: Ripples wiped away the dapple of raindrops on the surface until the raindrops pattered over the ripples again.
Really stupid plot points contemplated, and then averted because cooler heads prevailed:
[08:50] matociquala: Oh, look, Matthew's going to take another bath. Cleanest POV character around. You think he suffers OCD?
[08:50] matociquala: Of course, he is all over emo brains.
[08:50] stillsostrange: those might itch
[08:52] stillsostrange: eek
[08:53] matociquala: he's lost a lot of blood. He might doze off and drown.
[08:53] matociquala: That would be okay with me.
[08:53] stillsostrange: that would be the lamest character death ever
[08:53] matociquala: *blames it on the Bunyip*
[08:53] matociquala: Get Kelpie in there! Water spirit bathtub smackdown!
Books in progress, but not at all quickly: Dorothy L. Sayers, The Unpleasantness At The Bellona Club;
Interesting research tidbits of the day: Dorothy Parker
You will be frail and musty
With peering, furtive head,
Whilst I am young and lusty
Among the roaring dead.
Other writing-related work: three submissions lobbed!