High Energy

15 August 2002

Here's how yesterday evening went:

"Five pages is perfectly respectable. It's not as much as yesterday, but you made the last major plot decision today. It's downhill from here. Five pages is enough. Now you should relax for the rest of the evening."

"Oh, hey, eight pages is good. Almost as much as yesterday. Plus the major plot decision. Good for you. Sit down. Finish Tales of Nevčr˙on."

"Ten pages! Great going. More than yesterday, even. And you're done with the Delany and some household stuff. Go watch Denis Leary. Relax."

"Twelve pages, woohoo! Good for you, girl. Now go back to bed."

So I've been telling a few people I ended up writing 12 pages yesterday. Problem is, I called up The World Builders this morning. I wrote 13 pages yesterday. I think when I counted 12 the last time, I was just too tired. Too tired to do anything but work coherently, evidently, because the prose looks good and the plotting makes sense from that section of last night.

I'm pretty manic right now. Fairly full of energy. I'm not sure what to do about it. Part of me wants to temper it a bit, to try to temper the downswing when it comes. Part of me figures, the manic, energetic mood will end, and I might as well use and enjoy it while I can. And while I'm writing this book.

I'm writing this book!


It has occurred to some people faster than it has to me, that I'm writing this book, and that I will need to edit it rather quickly, proportionately. Specifically, Thomas, bless him, has volunteered to do a quick read-through for me. Anybody else feeling the urge? Short novel, short time frame for edits. Let me know. I will not feel offended if you usually might want to help me edit and do not now because of the time frame involved.

(Usually I really mean to include total strangers in the questions I ask. I really, really do. Like yesterday's question: answer that! Why don't you answer that? But when it comes to doing a fast novel crit, I would prefer to have some feel for who in the world you are. Possibly a good feel for it, even.)

I've gotten some interesting answers so far on the question from yesterday (send me more!) -- robots, lepers, Tolkien and D&D standards, sentient stars, hive-mind bacteria, dragons, psychic animals, pixies, pegasi (pegasuses? pegases?), nature spirits on a lonely landscape...really interesting stuff. Thirteen is a fascinating age. Some kids (like the small cousins!) are interesting before junior high, but some wait until junior high before they show you how they're interesting. Of course, my characters aren't choosing exactly any of the above...but that's not why I wanted to know.

I'm wondering if the yoga tapes have anything to do with my high energy levels today and last night. I kind of hope not. I need more energy at times, but at times (like this morning!), it's a bit, well, more than I can handle comfortably. We shall see, I suppose.

I really am excited about this book. I need to let my characters have fun. Which is a pretty cool thing to need to do, I think.

I was not excited about Tales of Nevčr˙on, though: Delany kept whacking us about the head with Social Commentary On Today's Cultural Assumptions! Ahhaha! More Social Commentary! With only the thinnest of veils! I usually like Delany, but I was fairly glad to be done with that one, and it wasn't even the postmodern sandwiching that bothered me. I've been zipping through Lynne Sharon Schwartz's Ruined by Reading, recommended by journal-reader Karalee when I asked for essays and nonfiction. I don't know what I'll take on the train to Berkeley with me tonight (sorry, Jenn, I'm going to Au Coquelet without you and with other writer-types again -- we'll have to set something up soon!). In the meantime, there is much to do.

I got a package addressed to Kallisti yesterday, and I figured, in absence of any albinos around here, it's not likely to get much fairer, although I'm not sure that pun translates to Greek. Principia Discordia, from Kev, and I don't know if it was a birthday present or an anniversary present or a Wednesday present or what. (Michelle used to say she didn't want birthday presents, so I gave her Tuesday presents, or Monday presents, or whatever.) My "to read" pile grows more eccentric by the day. David lent me some Gogol collections yesterday. I don't think that helps lower the eccentricity quotient any.

Here are some more pictures quick, while I go work on my book. Whee!

Me and Sarah. I'm the one who's not the bride, in case you're having trouble with who is who.

Sarah with her brothers.

Mil (Mark's grandpa's sister) and Lin (Mark's mom).

Mark with his dad's folks.

Mark with his mom's folks.

I think I'm done.

Back to Morphism.

And the main page.

Or the last entry.

Or the next one.

Or even send me email.