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With coffee and writing implements at hand, I can determine the shape of today. |
| I tend to write in the morning. After morning coffee and writing comes whatever the day holds...work, more writing, family time, reading, maybe even some gaming. It just depends...but writing first, always. And once I start writing, I get an idea not only of what I'm writing about, but how the rest of my day will go. Hence, the shape of today. |
| It's a cool, rainy Saturday morning in the heart of Christmas season. I'm on my last cup of coffee and waiting for the washer to finish up so I can move on to the next activity of the day. No work today, and no errands, and because of that I am filled with joy. It's rather funny...others look toward the weekend because they can't wait to get out somewhere...movie, a dinner, Christmas shopping. But my workweeks seem to be full of going...to work, with Dad to one of his appointments, some errand or other...and it just burns me out. I hate driving even around town these days. How people with large families manage to keep their sanity, I'll never know. After a while I start to feel like a gerbil in a wheel, going nowhere in a tremendous hurry. So when an opportunity to stay home presents itself, I launch myself at it. There are a hundred things to be done around here, such as cleaning. Christmas decorating, cooking, or some minor repair or other. But...I think I'll just be reading and writing today. It's that kind of day outside. No need to run today. Just rest. Yes, I like the sound of that. |
| The only thing more amusing than a southern Snow Panic is the southern reaction to an earthquake, such as we're having this morning. Said quake was in Tennessee and apparently was felt over a wide swath of Georgia. I say "apparently" because it hit sometime around 4 AM and I slept through it. Or, if I noticed it, I just assumed it was part of whatever dream I was having. The scale was 4.4 which according to the Richter Scale is not particularly strong or dangerous. That hasn't stopped people from flying into various states of excitement, however. The Atlanta stations are full of people claiming to have been thrown out of bed, and the morning show anchors are excitedly showing each other colorful graphics and collaring bewildered seismologists to discuss the big scary quake. They're a rarity here in Georgia, so they're a major media event. I was pretty whipped by the time I turned in last night, so while I'm disappointed to have missed out on the action, I'm glad I got a good night's rest. Workday incoming. |
| I've been observing it for some thirty years now but it never ceases to amuse me; the first Snow Panic of the season. People joke about the run on bread and milk at the grocery stores, but it's not just a joke...I used to work retail and I've seen it happen. I'm not sure how this odd trend started but people really do stock up on these items when a winter storm threatens. It would make more sense logically to load up on canned items that don't require cooking, but there it is. Having handled my grocery errands on Friday, I missed the panic this time around. Not that it seemed necessary, this time out. We've been getting threatened with floods, wind, and various wintry precipitation types but I only see a minuscule dusting of snow this morning, which our young cat is regarding with some astonishment. The cold rain is washing it away as I type, and I'm not quite sure what the rest of the day will bring. I did fill every available container with water, just in case. But thankfully the power is still on. If we don't get pimp slapped by the back end of this system, I expect to be working tomorrow. When we closed the library yesterday we put a sign on the door and changed the phone greeting, just in case none of us can make it in tomorrow morning. I normally don't work Mondays, but I swapped days with one of the other ladies so she could go to an appointment. We'll just have to wait and see how the weather transpires. I wonder what everyone's gonna do with all that extra bread and milk... |
| Politics has become such a toxic subject that I'm reluctant to even think about it, much less write about it. However, I woke up this morning to the news that the elder Bush had passed away in the night. I'm old enough to remember when he was vice president and was regularly made fun of by stand-up comedians and late-night show hosts. Most of whom are now dead or retired themselves. It's sometimes a little scary to see how much time is passing. We did not realize it at the time, but the first Bush administration was one of the last phases of the era of civility in our political culture. What we have become now would be unrecognizable to the Founders...a nation of screaming, swearing cretins who embrace ignorance over wisdom and place those who can shout the loudest over those who can speak eloquently. And all the while, the enemies who engineered this strife are watching and waiting with glee as the cracks widen. There are days when I don't know whether to be disgusted or terrified...or both. R.I.P. Bush Sr. I was not a supporter of yours, but you had class and I respect that. I pray that there are those out there who will remember what classy behavior is as we continue our downward spiral. Somebody's gonna have to pick up the pieces, one day. |
| Thursdays are a bit of a catch-22 for me. I go into work after noon, so there's plenty of time in the morning to catch up on household chores (and writing!). But then I work until 7, and that means leaving the library well after dark. I detest that drive home, I always have some impatient soul with those blinding bluish lights on my tail. But it is what it is. Speaking of writing, I finally managed to finish my submission for the "Weird Tales" contest yesterday morning. It looks like four of us have entered, and I made a point of reading and rating everyone else's stories. We all had unique takes on this month's WT cover, which was based off a Clark Ashton Smith story. I felt bad for the poor guy who runs the contest because he had no submissions at all for October, so I wanted to be sure to write something for this month. I need the practice. I also have a guild announcement to put together before heading off to work, so I'd better go putter around the kitchen some more and see if my mind can toss me some ideas. That always works for me; sitting here staring at a screen is utterly un-productive, but tasks as simple as laundry or washing dishes can kick the creative machinery into gear every time. Odd. But effective. In any event, I'll do some moving around to warm myself up on this chilly morning. |
| A trip to feed the cat this morning was enough to remind me that Winter is Coming....there's a sharp wind blowing after a night of rain. I have heard the Midwest is getting hammered by a winter storm, so I guess we in the GA mountains should be thankful all we have to cope with is a chilly wind. The usual errands await me this morning; hopefully I'll be able to make it home in time to get a bit of writing done before heading back to work tomorrow. My entry for the Weird Tales contest is nearly finished, and I'm pretty sure I need to submit that by the end of this week. And the clock waits for no one...time to get moving! |
| Finally, a Saturday morning where I don't have to rush around for work. It's chilly, rainy, and gloomy, but breakfast is done and here I sit with my coffee, ready to get a bit of writing done between laundry loads. This morning's project is an entry for the Weird Tales contest. Leaving aside the fact that I'm a fan of the old pulp, I felt bad for the guy that runs the contest. Last month he had no entries at all, so I vowed to write an entry for this one. It's too unique a contest to disregard, and the mental exercise will do me good. My entry is mostly finished...of course, it will need fine-tuning once it's complete. I tend to think of writing like stonecarving...one hacks a general shape out of a block of stone...a bear, say. That's stage one. Then, one takes up the finer instruments and adds details like eyes, muzzle, ears, claws. I'm nearly into phase two... |
| Writing.com keeps poking me, reminding me to update my blog. Finally, a morning when I have time for that! This week has been dismal in the weather department. Pouring rain and chilly temps have left me wishing I could hibernate all week...but life calls, so off I go to work today. At least the rain is supposed to end today so the commute home won't have to be in the rain as well as the dark. And the cold. I think we might be one of the few regions in the Southeast that's not under some kind of winter advisory; we only have flooding to worry about today. By now I've usually got sweaters, comforters, and heavy coats all washed up and ready to go. The change in the routine around here has got me scrambling this time out, however. I'll hopefully get some catching up done this weekend and next, then maybe I'll have some time to actually write. Now I'm just cramming in what writing time I can in the mornings before work. How people with large families manage this sort of thing, I'll never know. Now, to make the best of my extended morning... |
| Thanks to some kindly soul, I am able to access my blog again. I am returning from a period of inactivity brought on by some serious changes in the household, but now with the days growing shorter I hope to find more time to write. I've done a few reviews this week, trying to get back into the groove of things. I'd forgotten how much fun it is. A couple of pressing errands and work are going to curtail my time today, but hopefully I will be able to settle back into a proper rhythm soon. In the meantime...duty calls! |
| It's always nice to be able to share my enthusiasm for whatever I'm reading. Sometimes I'll choose an unknown (to me) author and be pleasantly surprised. Sometimes I do this and am surprised for entirely different reasons. And sometimes I'll come across a classic that I've somehow missed. So it is with Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham. This is an apocalyptic tale of entirely different sort...the end is brought on not by mushroom clouds or inbound space rocks, but by plants. Plants! Walking plants that sting you to death! I am only a fraction of the way into the novel, but I can tell it's a keeper by the way I keep glancing up and suddenly realizing it's midnight and it's time to put the book down and get some sleep. It's important that I slow down enough to note what makes the book work for me, so I can apply this to my own writing. First of all, it's strictly science fiction...the protagonist spent some time describing the origins and nature of these vicious plants before the main narrative started. However, the science is not so hard that the reader cannot grasp it. This, as much as the warm British rhythm of the prose keeps the story flowing nicely and lends power to the thread of horror that flows through it. And while it's tempting to suspect that the Triffids are escapees from the first Guild Wars 2 expansion, that's not the case. This book was written in the 1950's, when the Red Menace and the menace of nuclear annihilation were still very much a thing. Must have been a shock to the readers of the day to have the end of all things originating in a greenhouse rather than a missile silo! I am looking forward to seeing where Mr. Wyndham's tale takes me next. When I finish it I've got World War Z on hold coming in from another library. A zombie apocalypse tale seems appropriate with "Black Friday" coming up next week... |
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