Let’s see, what’s been going on.
I turned 32 on Sunday. I celebrated Saturday with a cake and some Rock Band and some friends. Kevin plays the drums, Kirby the bass, Raymond the guitar, and Michelle and I take turns singing.
I haven’t done much on my sock knitting. I’ve been busy. Writing. Apparently if I come to terms with the fact that it often takes me an hour to write 400 words, and then mentally allocate 4-5 hours a day to writing, I can get decent output. When I was expecting more of myself, and allocating the same amount of time, or expecting less of myself and allocating only an hour,Â I always got all stumbly. The Alphasmart I’m borrowing from Michelle helps, which is I guess why Kevin has ordered me a brand new one as a birthday present. If I can’t see more than a few lines of what I’m writing, I can’t be overcome with despair at how awful it is!
Kevin and I have also (just) started a weightlifting program. Through lots of patience and shopping around we’ve finally acquired a pair of barbells, weight plates, and even a bench, all set up in our library. It’s fun. I hope it’s as productive as Kevin thinks it will be.
I’ve read a lot of words about blogging publication-seeking writers lately, from the perspective of agents and publishers. Apparently if a writer is going to haveÂ a webpage, it should be professional– really professional, as in, you paid a designer to do it. As for having a blog, I’m only supposed to have one if it really shows off my writing and style.
So, yeah, how about them Mariners?
But seriously, I don’t think my blog is very indicative of my fiction writing. Well, okay, I know how to use periods for both practical and artistic effect. And I can capitalize with the best of them! But while I’ve never mastered the truly entertaining blog post, I think my fiction IS entertaining.
All the capitals are in the right place. all right?
Ahem. I’m also not supposed to give a blow by blow accounting of the trials and tribulations of manuscripts flung to the wolv– undergoing the query process. So I won’t.
Now to get the fuck out of this chair, which is the only chair in the house that apparently breaks my back. It’s the office chair. What the hell?