I’ve been busy lately, it’s true; traveling, and being an extra, and traveling again, and getting caught up on all the stuff around the house that got ignored while I was doing all that.
Even so.
While Mark and I were driving to Spokane a week or so ago, we spent a long time discussing my latest progress on Hobgoblin, and the changes I’d made and the things I’d figured out…and his very intelligent questions made me realize more things I needed to change and figure out…but then of course there was no time to work on that, because of being at the con, and (etc etc see above).
Anyway. Fast forward to today, when I woke up from my daze and realized I was doing SERIOUS cat-vacuuming behavior* and that it was really time to get my ass back in the chair and my fingers back on the keyboard, and get working on this damn novel again.
All well and good…but oh god, I am so lost from this story. I fussed and I fidgeted and I ate and I tidied and I wandered all over the internet and I stared at a blank screen and…finally I told myself I had to just write ONE scene, ONE new scene that may not even stay in the novel at all or be any good (and trust me, it’s not); ONE scene and that would start getting me back into it. But even so, I had to threaten to withhold alcohol for the writing to actually get done: I couldn’t have a drink till the scene was written, even though it was WELL past five o’clock.
But I wrote it! And it’s three pages long and it sucks, but it’s there!
I have to do the same thing tomorrow. And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…until I find myself back in this story again, which is a good story, and wants to be written, if only I can figure out how.
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In other news of my ineptness! I’ve been totally doing the swimming wrong. I mean, I sort of knew that; I was doing my wussy little breast-stroke, looking at all the people doing the crawl and wearing goggles and going so much faster than me and breathing properly, and feeling sorry for myself because nobody ever taught me how to swim like that (I mean seriously: I had swimming in PE in high school, but there was literally no instruction whatsoever: “Get in the pool and don’t bother me.”), and then I decided to just try. Okay, I would look stupid, I would do it wrong, I would be a dork, but who cares? So I bought goggles, and earplugs, and for good measure a silly little cap to put my hair in, and I went to the pool and I just TRIED.
And oh my GOODNESS it’s hard! My first attempt, I could only do a few strokes before I was out of breath. Back to breast-stroke. Then I tried again: got a little further. Figured out the breathing, sort of. Then I was doing half a length. Then a whole length! After more practice, I was doing two lengths of “real” swimming and then one length of breast-stroke as a rest. I went on like that.
By the time I was done with my 40 minutes, let me tell you, I knew I’d had some exercise. I still feel it.
Which didn’t stop me from going out into the yard and doing some Extreme Gardening. (But not till after my writing was done!)
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This is too long already, so might as well make it longer. 🙂 La Enigma and her Consort came for dinner last night; we grilled delightful, healthy things (because it was WAY too hot to cook indoors), and set out a rather lovely table, if I do say so ourselves.
Chicken sausages (on whole wheat buns); grilled bell peppers and zucchini; coleslaw. Yum!
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*I mean SERIOUS. Any day that involves BOTH bra-shopping and swimsuit-shopping–two of the most horrific clothing-shopping-experiences known to womankind–that’s writing-avoiding in the first degree.