Arrant Nonsense

Well, the trip to Colorado is off. The HubbyMom is ill, whether from the topical chemo she's applying to the incipient skin cancer on her nose (we live in the future!) or from a bug going around, she's not sure. But that works out for this week, anyway--now I don't have to worry about Boy's Scout Thing or cancelling the meeting with my Writing Buddy.

I've got my first pinch and my midpoint for the Glam Ben story. You know, Larry Correia said "I don't write horror because I don't write victim fiction." And there's a lot to be said for that. I frequently use Ben as either a punching bag or a damsel in distress (which I've hung a lampshade on, more than once), but he also kicks ass and takes names. Eventually.

I'm not sure how I do that in this one. And that's driving me a little crazy. I have a sort of rescue plan in place, but the boy is strapped to a table with a needle in his hand and an aconite drip, experiencing the requisite (for him) flashbacks and panic attacks. Last time this happened to him, he died. He's going to be pretty useless.

Maybe I'll have them escape from the blood bank by the skin of their teeth and then have to go back and burn it down. Something. Because I'm like Larry. I don't actually like writing victims.

I got crit on Angry Bitter Angel from my Awesome RP Partner, which I will be incorporating in short order. Once I hear back from my Writing Buddy on Zombunnies, I'll incorporate those changes, and it'll be ready for subbing pretty quick, I think.

And anyone who's using Photobucket for a custom mood theme may have noticed that it went kerflooey. This is because Photobucket is being just as frelling stoopid as LJ is this month and incorporating unpopular changes that have their userbase looking for alternatives in droves. Whee. I fixed mine via the method espoused by the lovely and effulgent gorengal: To fix, you need to go to the edit moodtheme screen under customize journal appearance. See the beginning of the URLs that say http://s...? You need to replace every 's' with an 'i'. Took me ten minutes and was a pain, but I've got my mood back. THANKS, PHOTOBUCKET.

(A) I love love love it when all Ben's sarcasm circuits are firing.

(B) Ben should not go to sleep with his Glock .40 in his hand. Ever. No matter how threatened he feels in the middle of nowhere. Because waking up with the thing under his chin and his finger on the trigger is bad.

(C) I came across a werewolf book called "Naked Brunch" by an author named "Sparkle Hayter" while on my agent hunt the other day. The fact that this person has been published since 1994 (and thus long before Twilight) does not make this any less funny.

(D) Have my favorite paragraph I've written today: He'd seen the petroglyphs around; you couldn't throw a rock anywhere in Moab without hitting one. He hadn't realized that the Anasazi people had been carving the pictures of horned creatures wearing their hearts on the outsides of their chests from life. The goblins of Goblin Valley were apparently real, only they weren't small, blue, or prone to nose-picking accidents. And holy shit, no wonder they were worshiped as fertility gods.

(E) We're taking the Cessna up to Odgen and the Auger Inn for a hundred-dollar hamburger tomorrow. Good times.

Yeah, I've been awake since 6am. I don't even know.

Also, I had a dream where I went shopping with Brandon Sanderson (mistborn). At Target. And we stayed there so late that I couldn't use my Borders coupon. Why I was shopping with a writer at a department store rather than a bookstore is a question for the ages. My subconscious is a very very odd thing. Also, as much as I enjoy Brandon's company when I see him twice a year at LTUE and CONduit... why him?

In other news, I bought an index-card case thing and glued it to my lapdesk, because I'm sick and damn tired of my notebooks and pens falling off it and disappearing into the Black Hole beside the couch when I set it aside. AND we have a new DVD tower thingy to replace the old bookcase. Now I just have to do the transfer, because I built the thing last night.

In other other news, the scene I wrote yesterday fills me with unseemly glee (considering the subject matter). Give me opinions, O Writers: If a character talks in fragments and incomplete sentences when he's stressed, and I'm tight in his POV in that scene, should (at least some) of the narrative also be fragment-y, where possible? I've tried it both ways and like it better fragment-y, but that might just be me being pretentious.

And now I'm writing actual!Iron Man fanfic. Because I've got an image in my head of Harry and Harmony and it should be Tony and Pepper and gorramit I really didn't want to go there but here I am. I'm such an angst-puppy. Gah.

Also, IMDB is being singularly uncooperative with the quotes for Iron Man. It looks like many of them came from the shooting script rather than the actual movie. And watching interviews with RDJ and Jon, we know that Robert walked into Jon's trailer on a daily basis with the day's pages in his hand, crumpled them up, and threw them against the wall, and they pretty much made the dialogue up as they went. So, yeah. Anyone have the actual quote from Tony after Pepper has her hand in his chest? Was it "You're all I have?" Argh.

In other news, LJ is bringing back Basic Accounts at the end of summer. *applauds*

125.2 this morning. Hubby thinks I look "hot." *grins* And I'll think of it as "2.8" more pounds to go rather than "3" because that makes it feel as though I'm still making progress. Of course, that might also mean I relax about it a little, which I really can't afford to do, so it's a two-edged sword.

Another rejection in the inbox. Whee. No one loves me. Or the CatFeet story.

Anyone reading this going to WorldCon? Hello? Anyone?

I have a title for the Bunny From Hell story, suggested by the Hubby, who is a genius, y'all. I'm...not sharing it, though. Because I'm mean. He also made a suggestion re: the ending, which I'm still mulling over. I may be posting it for the Concrit Group to tear into later today. I need to escalate the "creepy" factor before I do that, though.

The handsome and talented slushmaster has a poll up about snail mail vs email subs. Profic writers, go forth and vote and comment. You know you want to.

My gmail inbox remains empty. Woe.

"Lost" continues to rock my socks, y'all. That is some tasty tasty crack, and hey, dude who plays Ben? Here's your Emmy, man. Also, there's a new "Numb3rs" tonight, in case there's anyone on my flist besides bigsciencybrain who cares.

I have some new folks on my flist. *waves* I tag everything (mostly for my own record-keeping, especially as regards my fiction), so if there's a tag that piques your interest, click it and you can see everything I've ever written on the subject.

The Hubby bought a Dodge Durango yesterday, one of the old-style ones (because the new ones, although they have a Hemi, are butt-ugly). This may give him actual incentive to put the Willys on the block. I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, nothing will ever be as cool as the Willys. NOTHING. On the other hand, we're getting old and comfort is a premium. I just hope he builds the Durango up so we can actually go jeeping in it.

We talked some more about the aracari last night, and I'm finally coming around to the viewpoint that the Hubby is right: The Green Aracari is (very slightly) prettier than the Ivory-Billed. The beak is just way more colorful. Do I lose Wife Cred for admitting he's right?

( Rambling about the stimulus payment, word pronunciation, the wacky wacky weather, and my horrible girly bits. )
For something completely different, I've discovered an object lesson in how a professional writer should not act under any circumstances.

Exhibit A: u have an attitude. then what the hell do you publish lip service? I don't need you.

Exhibit B: I have been published all over this world I don't need you attitude so I deleted your ass and have a good trip.

Exhibit C: Assholes like you are only amusing. And no, I don't need to watch what I say to editors. I am an editor of four publications. I have also published my poems 706 times in the last 14 months, in over 200 publications. Guidelines are important, but not to the point of exlusion for their own sake; over quality of submissions, or, even a novice such as myself to flash fiction.

These are all from the same guy, to two different publications...after he got rejected for sending them something completely out of guideline. Apex Digest doesn't publish poetry, and AlienSkin doesn't publish stories under 500 words, unless they're in the "micro" category, in which case they must be exactly 150 words.

But apparently Mr. Michael Lee Johnson thinks that he is a Very Special Snowflake, and the guidelines don't apply to him! After all, he's been published at a vanity press Lulu! You'd think that these would be the actions of a spoiled 18-year-old kid.

You'd be wrong. According to his profile on Blogger, he's sixty.

Oi.

The World Horror Convention has begun. In Salt Lake City.

And I can't go.

*cries*

The Hubby has to work this weekend, and I have no one I can ask to watch Da Boy ALL DAY LONG for three days. We're solving this problem for CONduit by flying him out to Texas to stay with his aunt, but no can do this time.

Yes, I'm feeling a bit whiny about this. Especially as I could have got in for the whole weekend for $25 as a volunteer. Wah.

In other news, some of you know that I do an hour a day/burn 500 calories on my stationary recumbent bike. Last night? I ripped out those 500 calories with eight seconds to spare in one session. I usually take two to four, depending on the day. The day before yesterday, I did one 35-minute session and one 25-minute session. I've heard that runners who train a lot can double their usual distance, and I now tend to give that some credence.

We went and saw Horton Hears a Who yesterday and thoroughly enjoyed it. I was terribly afraid they'd butcher it, but they did a great job. It's my favorite Seuss book ("A person's a person, no matter how small" tickles my little pro-life heart), and this one is definitely going in the DVD collection.

Also, I will get some writing done today. And I will also call my dad, whose birthday it is. We have four and a half hours of school to do (starting cursive today, and oh my gosh the whining!). Somewhere in there I'd like to go pick up my copy of "Everybody's Dead" that the comic store is holding for me. Food. Food would be good, as the cupboards are somewhat bare.

AUGH. At least I've caught up with my flist, mostly?

You know, if you're going to send me an email that's "urgent and confidential," then it might be better if you don't CC about fifty other recipients.

Oh, and the scam attempt? LAME. All caps = bad form. The fact that you say you made a "random draw" of email addresses in order to figure out who should get this windfall is...original. I'll give you points for that. However, it's negated by the fact that apparently you weren't smart enough to hide the other "randomly drawn" email addresses.

Also, I've never heard of a will that stipulated that some random person, chosen by a total stranger, would be the beneficiary. Again, points for originality.

My oh my, what they won't try.

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In other news, I saw something the other day that made my ears steam:

Well, if it feels like work, you aren't meant to be a writer.

Well, DAMN. I must be doing it wrong. Guess I'll hang up my laptop, and send that check back, and tell that other place not to publish my story after all. After all, writing isn't something I'm meant to do.

Sometimes, yes, it's effortless. The words pour from my fingers like water and I fill page after page with marvelous prose. Other times? Not so much. And then, of course, there's editing. Frequently, my first draft is more like "outline" than "story," and I wind up having to add a lot of stuff to fill in the blanks. Figuring out what needs adding, and then writing those parts, is also an effort. My latest thing has gone from 2800 words to 4000 in the editing stage.

But apparently it's not supposed to be this much work. My bad.

Just because it "feels like work" doesn't mean that I don't take joy in the act of creation. I get great pleasure from just the right turning of a phrase, from turning the screws just that much more on my characters, from turning a bad situation into a worse one. I love it when something I wrote makes someone laugh...or cry...or have to take a shower (as long as that's the effect I was going for, and yes, I'm looking at the ReaverFic).

So, I'll just keep plugging away over here, thanks very much. It may feel like work, sometimes, but I like it. *sticks out tongue*

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In other other news, I wanted to go to the Aviary today, but the weather is...uncooperative. We're supposed to get more snow later on.

Where's Spring, dammit?

Behave, damn you!

In other news, I made a new icon today:



And it would be nice if the Giant Bugs story would do something coherent in my brain. Yes, it would.

In other other news, for those playing at home who don't read comments on posts, or who might have missed it, the copies of Renard's Menagerie with my story "Affairs of Dragons" are winging their way toward me and are ready to be ordered at the website by anyone who wants one.

Also, I have a cold and a new crick in my neck.

And new Chuck and Heroes tonight!

Wow, that was...random.