On Wednesday, I read the third chapter of the book. "Andrew--the Apostle of Small Things." I really enjoyed reading about Andrew's example of simple service and how no act is too small. MacArthur pointed out that it was Andrew who brought the boy with the loaves and fishes to Jesus. Andrew was quite as skilled at finding the one lost sheep as his brother (Simon Peter) was at finding lost herds. I really enjoyed this chapter. My one peeve was that it made a little too much use of the word "obscure" and it's various forms. Oh, well. Can't have it all.
Quotes
ch. 2 ("Peter--the Apostle with the Foot-Shaped Mouth")
p. 37: "If Christ in His perfect humanity could not pour equal amounts of time and energy into everyone He drew around Him, no leader should expect to be able to do that." That was in regards to why there seemed to be 3 (Peter, James, and John) who Christ kept exceptionally close. The LDS church views that as Christ setting up the first First Presidency.
ch. 3 ("Andrew--the Apostle of Small Things")
p. 82: "All the fruits of Peter's ministry is ultimately also the fruit of Andrew's faithful, individual witness." One of the facts that I was really glad I learned from this chapter was how Andrew was the one who brought Peter to Christ (in a physical sense).
2008-12-19
2008-12-02
Writing Journal
08-12-01
Today's soundtrack:
Kat 103.7 (I'm not going to keep track of the songs)
101.9 (after Kat 103 started going fuzzy, hardly listened to it for long)
Kat 103.7 (I tried it again)
Today's genre:
poetry, new stuff. Possibly cutting Gleamer and Thief to 2 solid pages.
Today's start time: 3:30
While crocheting and waiting for 3:30, (about 3:15) I heard a song that reminds me of my grandma. It was the only time I remember seeing her smile after my grandpa died. She didn't have a lot of reasons to smile the last few years of her life. She lost her husband a month after her birthday. Her youngest daughter was driving her back from the hospital when he finally passed. Because this was in the days before our family had cell phones, they didn't know until they arrived home. Her youngest son wasn't able to attend the burial service because he had to take his oldest son back to the county jail. About 12 and half months later, she lost her baby brother to alcoholism. He was so jaundiced that the whites of his eyes were a cross between manila and vanilla. An hour before his funeral, one of her sons-in-law passed away. About 12 and a half months after that, on the birthday of her youngest grandchild, she lost her father. She only outlived her father by 6 weeks.
During these years, she was also diagnosed with emphysema because she had been smoking since she was 15. She was in and out of the hospital herself with that. Add to this the stress of most of her children holding a grudge against her oldest grandson. Not to mention that she had been the Power of Attorney for her father for a number of years, her youngest daughter being the assistant PoA. In fact, not long before her death, she began the process of filing DNR papers and was torn between asking the CNA daughter who lived with her and her youngest daughter to be PoA for her.
She was so depressed and addicted to cigarettes that she would smoke with her O2 tank on, right next to her. As though she were trying to kill herself. I can see her there, in her seat at the head of the dining room table, in front of the china cabinet, with a full ashtray and word search book in front of her. Every so often, I get attacked with an image of her in a bed in an upstairs room in the old hospital. I'm standing with my back to the window and Kim is on my left. I was standing even with grandma's chest and looked at her face, which was turned towards my mom across from me. I remember seeing the butt of a Marlboro Light 100 mashed up in her hair and I had to look away. She had been in the hospital for a few days at that point and I nearly cried at the thought that none of the nurses had noticed or had had the courtesy to pull it out. It was my first experience with the dehumanization of elderly patients in a medical setting, and I never forgot it while I was working at the Care Center.
But the song that goes “Play me some country music, the kind that Grandma and Grandpa used to play” reminds me of a happy memory. Barb and Chris had just started going out to karaoke bars. Because they had convinced my mom and grandma to go with them, I got dragged along, also. I remember we were at Tolley's Allies and some older gentleman, maybe a little bit younger than Grandma, got up there and sang it. He had an excellent voice and someone, maybe the waitress, told us that he often sang that song. It was his signature song. I remember Grandma on the other side of the table, clapping along as the man's face turned red from the energy he was expending making her happy. It was the only time I remember her smiling after Grandpa died, and every time I hear that song, that memory is the one that returns and it cheers me as it saddens me.
I'm going to push out a poem immortalizing that moment.
I just finished the first draft. I'm going to say that I spent 45 minutes on it. Just to give a rounded time. It is now 4:05.
I'm going to break until 4:15 then I'm going to type up the ones I spent half an hour writing on Thursday, I think it was. Which reminds me, I need to update my log. I also spent half an hour at the mall writing a poem. So I can log that as well.
Sucks I can't count journaling time as writing time. Pooh.
Took 25 minutes to type those up. I'm counting it as 30.
Which brings today's total to...
30 mall minutes
30 typing minutes
45 Grandma minutes
Year's total: 40.5 hours. A full week's worth of work since August? Some dedicated writer I am. Even for only ever wanting to be obscure.
Starting time on the poetic phraseology I jotted down in code on yesterday's program because I can be a paranoid fool sometimes: 5:45
At 5:50, I had to go back to the journaling I did about the situation. Hopefully I'm not there for too long before I can get back to the emotion propelling the poem.
Those were a little bit of help.
So far, I've spent about 10 minutes with the actual poem. So if I can get another 5 in, I'll be able to count today's total time at 2 hours. Small victory.
Got one more stanza in. I should probably go back and rifle through the ones I wrote today. Go through and straighten them out. Pick out the good stuff, ditch the rest. After I take a little break; my shoulders are killing me.
The apartment's chilly—new stanza idea!
Fixed enough for now.
Today's soundtrack:
Kat 103.7 (I'm not going to keep track of the songs)
101.9 (after Kat 103 started going fuzzy, hardly listened to it for long)
Kat 103.7 (I tried it again)
Today's genre:
poetry, new stuff. Possibly cutting Gleamer and Thief to 2 solid pages.
Today's start time: 3:30
While crocheting and waiting for 3:30, (about 3:15) I heard a song that reminds me of my grandma. It was the only time I remember seeing her smile after my grandpa died. She didn't have a lot of reasons to smile the last few years of her life. She lost her husband a month after her birthday. Her youngest daughter was driving her back from the hospital when he finally passed. Because this was in the days before our family had cell phones, they didn't know until they arrived home. Her youngest son wasn't able to attend the burial service because he had to take his oldest son back to the county jail. About 12 and half months later, she lost her baby brother to alcoholism. He was so jaundiced that the whites of his eyes were a cross between manila and vanilla. An hour before his funeral, one of her sons-in-law passed away. About 12 and a half months after that, on the birthday of her youngest grandchild, she lost her father. She only outlived her father by 6 weeks.
During these years, she was also diagnosed with emphysema because she had been smoking since she was 15. She was in and out of the hospital herself with that. Add to this the stress of most of her children holding a grudge against her oldest grandson. Not to mention that she had been the Power of Attorney for her father for a number of years, her youngest daughter being the assistant PoA. In fact, not long before her death, she began the process of filing DNR papers and was torn between asking the CNA daughter who lived with her and her youngest daughter to be PoA for her.
She was so depressed and addicted to cigarettes that she would smoke with her O2 tank on, right next to her. As though she were trying to kill herself. I can see her there, in her seat at the head of the dining room table, in front of the china cabinet, with a full ashtray and word search book in front of her. Every so often, I get attacked with an image of her in a bed in an upstairs room in the old hospital. I'm standing with my back to the window and Kim is on my left. I was standing even with grandma's chest and looked at her face, which was turned towards my mom across from me. I remember seeing the butt of a Marlboro Light 100 mashed up in her hair and I had to look away. She had been in the hospital for a few days at that point and I nearly cried at the thought that none of the nurses had noticed or had had the courtesy to pull it out. It was my first experience with the dehumanization of elderly patients in a medical setting, and I never forgot it while I was working at the Care Center.
But the song that goes “Play me some country music, the kind that Grandma and Grandpa used to play” reminds me of a happy memory. Barb and Chris had just started going out to karaoke bars. Because they had convinced my mom and grandma to go with them, I got dragged along, also. I remember we were at Tolley's Allies and some older gentleman, maybe a little bit younger than Grandma, got up there and sang it. He had an excellent voice and someone, maybe the waitress, told us that he often sang that song. It was his signature song. I remember Grandma on the other side of the table, clapping along as the man's face turned red from the energy he was expending making her happy. It was the only time I remember her smiling after Grandpa died, and every time I hear that song, that memory is the one that returns and it cheers me as it saddens me.
I'm going to push out a poem immortalizing that moment.
I just finished the first draft. I'm going to say that I spent 45 minutes on it. Just to give a rounded time. It is now 4:05.
I'm going to break until 4:15 then I'm going to type up the ones I spent half an hour writing on Thursday, I think it was. Which reminds me, I need to update my log. I also spent half an hour at the mall writing a poem. So I can log that as well.
Sucks I can't count journaling time as writing time. Pooh.
Took 25 minutes to type those up. I'm counting it as 30.
Which brings today's total to...
30 mall minutes
30 typing minutes
45 Grandma minutes
Year's total: 40.5 hours. A full week's worth of work since August? Some dedicated writer I am. Even for only ever wanting to be obscure.
Starting time on the poetic phraseology I jotted down in code on yesterday's program because I can be a paranoid fool sometimes: 5:45
At 5:50, I had to go back to the journaling I did about the situation. Hopefully I'm not there for too long before I can get back to the emotion propelling the poem.
Those were a little bit of help.
So far, I've spent about 10 minutes with the actual poem. So if I can get another 5 in, I'll be able to count today's total time at 2 hours. Small victory.
Got one more stanza in. I should probably go back and rifle through the ones I wrote today. Go through and straighten them out. Pick out the good stuff, ditch the rest. After I take a little break; my shoulders are killing me.
The apartment's chilly—new stanza idea!
Fixed enough for now.
2008-11-26
Writing Journal
Okay. Luce is started up. Yay! After nearly half an hour. I'm not kidding; ask my roommate. It was nearly the entire length of the Dr. Horrible. Since I was focused on ideas for writing, and I wrote some down, I'm going to start my time as 10:30, even though it's technically 10:40. Plus, it makes keeping track of time easier for me.
Seriously, though, it was rather ironic. Adam is the one who provided me with the Dr. Horrible CD in the first place (and I almost feel like I'm tempting fate just by typing that) and I kid you not, 30 seconds into the first track of Porcupine Tree, Disc One, she started up and stayed started! I swear this computer hates that boy. Which makes me sad, since he's my computer friend. You know, the one I go to for computer-related advice.
On to the business of writing, though.
Today's start time: 10:30
Today's soundtrack is as follows:
Dr. Horrible: ?Mix
Porcupine Tree: Disc One (Mix)
Simon & Garfunkel: Greatest Hits
Today's goals and ideas:
Natalie and David no longer get married. David does something to screw it up. (“Evil inside of me is on the rise,” Dr. Horrible) She ends up with Jack. (“Seems destiny ends with me saving you,” Dr. Horrible) I don't know exactly what needs to happen, plot wise, though. I don't want it to be too devastating. But I know I want it to happen before the actual marriage. (Maggie's shredding stuff, and it's noisy and I can't hear my music!)
Finish any 50 sentences on characters. Do those while Maggie's making noise and work on the meatier parts of the plot when you can focus better, since you focus better when you're alone.
*~*Opens 50 Sentences*~*
(Note to self: save electronic version of theme sets thread)
Perfect! Theme Set 10 (the one I'm currently working on) rests perfectly between my keyboard and screen. Yay!
I'm stumped on number 39. It's the first one of the day; I've gone back through and read the other ones that I typed up for David. I can't think of something for “warning.” And it's irritating me. I think I'm fighting against the instinct to put that Jack warns Dave to not hurt Natalie. I guess Jack has to be that territorial, even though I don't want him to be. Remember what Pyper once said: Sometimes your characters are going to be bad people and you have to let them do the things that you don't want them to do. Sometimes, your characters are going to disappoint you.
What can happen before?
Not death, although maybe, thanks to Carrie Underwood....
Not cheating, since neither one of their characters is the cheating kind.
Possibly a disagreement over living situations. David wants to travel the world, spread wings; Natalie is ready for roots. David's not sure he'll ever be ready for roots. But, how can that be, when they've known each other for so long? Wouldn't they have talked about their life plans over the course of time? Whether they want to stay or go....Maybe Dave assumes that because Natalie up and relocated herself twice before for no reason that was apparent to anyone else that she would be willing to do it again, for him, with him.
Another idea for how David could end the relationship: a disharmony over kids. She wants a lot, at least four; he only wants two, definitely not more than three. YES!!! I found it! If I take that route, and end Jack's first marriage because he wanted kids and she didn't at the time, and now he's just heard that his ex-wife is married and expecting a child he wanted to be his, he could be very hurt about a lot of things. Which makes for a good read. Or at least it could if I can pull it off.
Ugh! I have to be to work in less than 2 hours! Why so soon? Waaaah!
Okay, got the 50 sentences done. The three main characters that I'm building the story around right now. I might add George in as a stronger minor character later on, if the story line calls for it.
Which reminds me, I still need to see where there's a teacher supply store around here that might have blank timelines that I could fill in. Because that's something that I'm picky about and it can get very complicated with all my ideas. I like knowing when stuff happens and the sequences of particular events. Especially in my literature.
A story I heard on the radio this morning (of how meteorologist Jim Flowers met his wife) gave me a great idea for a date scene. An ice skating rink, the boy teaches the girl to skate backwards. I'm leaning towards David and Natalie. Because there has to be happy scenes to balance out all the sadness that makes a story interesting and worth reading.
Okay, break time. Need to pee and eat lunch. Real quick, because there's plot to thicken!
All right. Lunch lasted from 11:20 until 11:40, so if I write from 11:40 until 12:10, then I'll be at 90 minutes, right? That's how my math works, anyway.
Here goes, with the date. I'm postponing the pain for later, when I'll have time to cheer up afterwards.
I just realized something. As I'm imagining some of the scenes with Natalie and Dave, sometimes Natalie looks like Sarah Doering and sometimes Dave looks like Derek. Which creeps me out a little bit. Maybe that's what separates them? They find out that they're too closely related. Which doesn't make much sense. That could get complicated and I'd have to bring in extra characters, such as parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins to make that happen. Not to mention the geographical distance I'd have to factor into the explanation. Ugh!
I wonder if I left my computer on while I'm at work for 9 or 10 hours if she'd still be on when I got home. If I get a cookie, I'll be more likely to stay up writing with that and a glass of milk. And considering that I don't work until 1 again tomorrow and I don't have errands to run tomorrow like I did today, I can stay up writing to my heart's content. Then I can get on the internet tomorrow and update my facebook status, the Mo-Board and my writing blog before work. ☺
_________________________________
MMMmmmmmmmmm....mutated Panera cookies and skim milk. (The day before a weigh-in, nonetheless.) Accompanied by Porcupine Tree: Disc One. Nothing better to get me through writing the terribly depressing things that I don't want to write about. I don't want such a strong character like Natalie to be broken. I don't want to see her sad any more than anyone else, especially Jack and Dave, the one who I need to make make her sad.. Ooo...I should throw Juno in while I'm thinking about it. Replace the Simon & Garfunkel with that, keep the soundtrack to a minimum, since I'm starting this round at 11:50 Mainly for the song I'm currently quoting in my Mo-Board signature. “You're such a good friend, I have to break your heart. I'll tell you that I love you than I'll tear your world apart. Just pretend I didn't tear your world apart.” Not the same lines as my signature, but still...
So, this evening's soundtrack is as follows:
Porcupine Tree: Disc One (Mix)
Juno: The motion picture soundtrack
Nightwish: Mix
Dr. Horrible: Mix.
I need to rededicate myself to the title of the story: Left-Hand Man. I need to explore the relationships that aren't romantic. Since, really, that's what I want this book to be about. Is it really going to be a book? Is that really what I'm intending here? That's a hefty thing to ask of myself. At any rate, I need to focus on the relationship between George and David. I also need to explore the relationship between George and Natalie. Since they do have this connection that goes unspoken of for a long time. Maybe until Dave and Nat part ways.
Man, that's going to be the toughest thing I think I've ever had to write. Maybe I should wait until I have two consecutive days off before I tackle that. Or at least more than 24 hours between the end of one shift and the start of another. Time to recoup from work, flood myself with the writing and then time to recoup before work.
I still need to focus on the platonic aspect of Natalie's relationship with Jack as well. Since they will be platonic for the majority of the story before the final climax when Dave and Nat part ways. (Holy crap am I tired. I just felt a wave of exhaustion. Glad I removed Coma Divine.)
I've done enough babble typing in this flaky writing journal. I need to story up, man.
Who do I want to work with first? George and David. From Dave's perspective. Okay.
Now what? Where do I put it? Do I start yet another file in the growing Left-Hand Man folder, or do I throw it somewhere in the document? Am I micro-organizing? Either way I put it, I feel like that's what I'm doing. What about where Dave is flashbacking to working with the other two? Or is that a Natalie flashback? That doesn't seem appropriate, somehow. I need to have Dave flashbacking about...the first night that he met Natalie and what led him up to that point. How George got him there. Where to put that flashback is agonizing, though.
Okay; it's 12:35. Short break. 10 minutes. Then back to the grind.
Ha. So much for a short 10 minute break. More like 30. It's 1:05 now. Which means that, while I'm well-rested, I also have to spend time going back through what I wrote. I think I ate my cookies and drank my milk to fast in an effort to boost the energy. That was a bad mistake, seashmore. Oh, well. You also learned that the bottom half of the Porcupine Tree: Disc One is too mellow to listen to when you're not trying to relax. Which rather stinks. Because the first half is pretty decent.
Okay, back to the grind. I think it's time you refreshed yourself as to where you wanted to take this from the beginning.
“My fourth quarter pipe dreams are seeming more and more worth fighting for.”
I'm losing focus and should just go to bed. I must confess that it's nearly 1:45 and I've really only spent maybe 20 minutes of the last 40 actually writing. Or even reading through what I need to to develop Left Hand Man. *sigh*
So, that brings this evening's total writing time to...
11:50-12:35 => 45 minutes
+ 20 minutes
Which gives this slacker about one hour. We'll use that for easy tracking. Stupid slacking.
Still down 5.25 hours for the month.
Looks like I'll be doing a lot of writing during the night of Thanksgiving. Or the afternoon, depending on when the Bishop has me over. I don't really know what time to show up. I should probably call again tomorrow and see. Crap. My invigorating writing CD just started. Nightwish Mix.
I could probably squeeze some writing time in on Friday night, if I'm not doing too much cleaning. Which I should do so that Maggie can move. At least gather up all the crap of mine that's on the table so she can move it out of here. I don't remember what I work on Saturday, but I really should spend a good chunk of time on Sunday writing something. Maybe take a break from this story and do some poetry. Too bad I'm not finding anything poetic. And I haven't read enough Russian lit to detail my Avonishna story. Ugh. So many obstacles I put in my path.
Seriously, though, it was rather ironic. Adam is the one who provided me with the Dr. Horrible CD in the first place (and I almost feel like I'm tempting fate just by typing that) and I kid you not, 30 seconds into the first track of Porcupine Tree, Disc One, she started up and stayed started! I swear this computer hates that boy. Which makes me sad, since he's my computer friend. You know, the one I go to for computer-related advice.
On to the business of writing, though.
Today's start time: 10:30
Today's soundtrack is as follows:
Dr. Horrible: ?Mix
Porcupine Tree: Disc One (Mix)
Simon & Garfunkel: Greatest Hits
Today's goals and ideas:
Natalie and David no longer get married. David does something to screw it up. (“Evil inside of me is on the rise,” Dr. Horrible) She ends up with Jack. (“Seems destiny ends with me saving you,” Dr. Horrible) I don't know exactly what needs to happen, plot wise, though. I don't want it to be too devastating. But I know I want it to happen before the actual marriage. (Maggie's shredding stuff, and it's noisy and I can't hear my music!)
Finish any 50 sentences on characters. Do those while Maggie's making noise and work on the meatier parts of the plot when you can focus better, since you focus better when you're alone.
*~*Opens 50 Sentences*~*
(Note to self: save electronic version of theme sets thread)
Perfect! Theme Set 10 (the one I'm currently working on) rests perfectly between my keyboard and screen. Yay!
I'm stumped on number 39. It's the first one of the day; I've gone back through and read the other ones that I typed up for David. I can't think of something for “warning.” And it's irritating me. I think I'm fighting against the instinct to put that Jack warns Dave to not hurt Natalie. I guess Jack has to be that territorial, even though I don't want him to be. Remember what Pyper once said: Sometimes your characters are going to be bad people and you have to let them do the things that you don't want them to do. Sometimes, your characters are going to disappoint you.
What can happen before?
Not death, although maybe, thanks to Carrie Underwood....
Not cheating, since neither one of their characters is the cheating kind.
Possibly a disagreement over living situations. David wants to travel the world, spread wings; Natalie is ready for roots. David's not sure he'll ever be ready for roots. But, how can that be, when they've known each other for so long? Wouldn't they have talked about their life plans over the course of time? Whether they want to stay or go....Maybe Dave assumes that because Natalie up and relocated herself twice before for no reason that was apparent to anyone else that she would be willing to do it again, for him, with him.
Another idea for how David could end the relationship: a disharmony over kids. She wants a lot, at least four; he only wants two, definitely not more than three. YES!!! I found it! If I take that route, and end Jack's first marriage because he wanted kids and she didn't at the time, and now he's just heard that his ex-wife is married and expecting a child he wanted to be his, he could be very hurt about a lot of things. Which makes for a good read. Or at least it could if I can pull it off.
Ugh! I have to be to work in less than 2 hours! Why so soon? Waaaah!
Okay, got the 50 sentences done. The three main characters that I'm building the story around right now. I might add George in as a stronger minor character later on, if the story line calls for it.
Which reminds me, I still need to see where there's a teacher supply store around here that might have blank timelines that I could fill in. Because that's something that I'm picky about and it can get very complicated with all my ideas. I like knowing when stuff happens and the sequences of particular events. Especially in my literature.
A story I heard on the radio this morning (of how meteorologist Jim Flowers met his wife) gave me a great idea for a date scene. An ice skating rink, the boy teaches the girl to skate backwards. I'm leaning towards David and Natalie. Because there has to be happy scenes to balance out all the sadness that makes a story interesting and worth reading.
Okay, break time. Need to pee and eat lunch. Real quick, because there's plot to thicken!
All right. Lunch lasted from 11:20 until 11:40, so if I write from 11:40 until 12:10, then I'll be at 90 minutes, right? That's how my math works, anyway.
Here goes, with the date. I'm postponing the pain for later, when I'll have time to cheer up afterwards.
I just realized something. As I'm imagining some of the scenes with Natalie and Dave, sometimes Natalie looks like Sarah Doering and sometimes Dave looks like Derek. Which creeps me out a little bit. Maybe that's what separates them? They find out that they're too closely related. Which doesn't make much sense. That could get complicated and I'd have to bring in extra characters, such as parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins to make that happen. Not to mention the geographical distance I'd have to factor into the explanation. Ugh!
I wonder if I left my computer on while I'm at work for 9 or 10 hours if she'd still be on when I got home. If I get a cookie, I'll be more likely to stay up writing with that and a glass of milk. And considering that I don't work until 1 again tomorrow and I don't have errands to run tomorrow like I did today, I can stay up writing to my heart's content. Then I can get on the internet tomorrow and update my facebook status, the Mo-Board and my writing blog before work. ☺
_________________________________
MMMmmmmmmmmm....mutated Panera cookies and skim milk. (The day before a weigh-in, nonetheless.) Accompanied by Porcupine Tree: Disc One. Nothing better to get me through writing the terribly depressing things that I don't want to write about. I don't want such a strong character like Natalie to be broken. I don't want to see her sad any more than anyone else, especially Jack and Dave, the one who I need to make make her sad.. Ooo...I should throw Juno in while I'm thinking about it. Replace the Simon & Garfunkel with that, keep the soundtrack to a minimum, since I'm starting this round at 11:50 Mainly for the song I'm currently quoting in my Mo-Board signature. “You're such a good friend, I have to break your heart. I'll tell you that I love you than I'll tear your world apart. Just pretend I didn't tear your world apart.” Not the same lines as my signature, but still...
So, this evening's soundtrack is as follows:
Porcupine Tree: Disc One (Mix)
Juno: The motion picture soundtrack
Nightwish: Mix
Dr. Horrible: Mix.
I need to rededicate myself to the title of the story: Left-Hand Man. I need to explore the relationships that aren't romantic. Since, really, that's what I want this book to be about. Is it really going to be a book? Is that really what I'm intending here? That's a hefty thing to ask of myself. At any rate, I need to focus on the relationship between George and David. I also need to explore the relationship between George and Natalie. Since they do have this connection that goes unspoken of for a long time. Maybe until Dave and Nat part ways.
Man, that's going to be the toughest thing I think I've ever had to write. Maybe I should wait until I have two consecutive days off before I tackle that. Or at least more than 24 hours between the end of one shift and the start of another. Time to recoup from work, flood myself with the writing and then time to recoup before work.
I still need to focus on the platonic aspect of Natalie's relationship with Jack as well. Since they will be platonic for the majority of the story before the final climax when Dave and Nat part ways. (Holy crap am I tired. I just felt a wave of exhaustion. Glad I removed Coma Divine.)
I've done enough babble typing in this flaky writing journal. I need to story up, man.
Who do I want to work with first? George and David. From Dave's perspective. Okay.
Now what? Where do I put it? Do I start yet another file in the growing Left-Hand Man folder, or do I throw it somewhere in the document? Am I micro-organizing? Either way I put it, I feel like that's what I'm doing. What about where Dave is flashbacking to working with the other two? Or is that a Natalie flashback? That doesn't seem appropriate, somehow. I need to have Dave flashbacking about...the first night that he met Natalie and what led him up to that point. How George got him there. Where to put that flashback is agonizing, though.
Okay; it's 12:35. Short break. 10 minutes. Then back to the grind.
Ha. So much for a short 10 minute break. More like 30. It's 1:05 now. Which means that, while I'm well-rested, I also have to spend time going back through what I wrote. I think I ate my cookies and drank my milk to fast in an effort to boost the energy. That was a bad mistake, seashmore. Oh, well. You also learned that the bottom half of the Porcupine Tree: Disc One is too mellow to listen to when you're not trying to relax. Which rather stinks. Because the first half is pretty decent.
Okay, back to the grind. I think it's time you refreshed yourself as to where you wanted to take this from the beginning.
“My fourth quarter pipe dreams are seeming more and more worth fighting for.”
I'm losing focus and should just go to bed. I must confess that it's nearly 1:45 and I've really only spent maybe 20 minutes of the last 40 actually writing. Or even reading through what I need to to develop Left Hand Man. *sigh*
So, that brings this evening's total writing time to...
11:50-12:35 => 45 minutes
+ 20 minutes
Which gives this slacker about one hour. We'll use that for easy tracking. Stupid slacking.
Still down 5.25 hours for the month.
Looks like I'll be doing a lot of writing during the night of Thanksgiving. Or the afternoon, depending on when the Bishop has me over. I don't really know what time to show up. I should probably call again tomorrow and see. Crap. My invigorating writing CD just started. Nightwish Mix.
I could probably squeeze some writing time in on Friday night, if I'm not doing too much cleaning. Which I should do so that Maggie can move. At least gather up all the crap of mine that's on the table so she can move it out of here. I don't remember what I work on Saturday, but I really should spend a good chunk of time on Sunday writing something. Maybe take a break from this story and do some poetry. Too bad I'm not finding anything poetic. And I haven't read enough Russian lit to detail my Avonishna story. Ugh. So many obstacles I put in my path.
2008-11-24
Reading Journal
I just finished "O Pioneers!" for the 3rd time. It's one of my favorite books, mostly because my mom's grandfather came to the U.S. from Sweden in 1913 and my dad's great-grandparents came to the U.S. from Bohemia in 1893 or so, I believe. I can identify with just about every character throughout the entire book on at least some level at some point in my life and the book.
I'm also reading "The Glove of the World," a book of poetry by Jeanne Emmons. She was one of my instructors in college. I've tried to stick with a "Something Old, Something New, Something Random, Something True" system to keep variety in my reading. I'm obsessed with being well-rounded.
So I just started my "Something Random." It's a book either my roommate got for me for my birthday at a Boy Scout rummage sale or a book I bought at church rummage sale, where they were selling books by the pound! Yeah, none of that pesky hardcover-softcover, fill-a-bag pricing system. They weighed the books and I think it was a dollar or two per pound! Anyway, it's called, "Twelve Ordinary Men," by John MacArthur. It's about the Twelve Apostles of the New Testament. I'm really looking forward to reading it, since although I am Christian, I am of a different religious persuasion than the author. I'm a Latter-day Saint and have already noticed that a lot of what MacArthur says about the New Testament Twelve could be said of the Twelve of the Restoration. I'm excited to finish this one.
I'm also reading "The Glove of the World," a book of poetry by Jeanne Emmons. She was one of my instructors in college. I've tried to stick with a "Something Old, Something New, Something Random, Something True" system to keep variety in my reading. I'm obsessed with being well-rounded.
So I just started my "Something Random." It's a book either my roommate got for me for my birthday at a Boy Scout rummage sale or a book I bought at church rummage sale, where they were selling books by the pound! Yeah, none of that pesky hardcover-softcover, fill-a-bag pricing system. They weighed the books and I think it was a dollar or two per pound! Anyway, it's called, "Twelve Ordinary Men," by John MacArthur. It's about the Twelve Apostles of the New Testament. I'm really looking forward to reading it, since although I am Christian, I am of a different religious persuasion than the author. I'm a Latter-day Saint and have already noticed that a lot of what MacArthur says about the New Testament Twelve could be said of the Twelve of the Restoration. I'm excited to finish this one.
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