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Tuesday, December 24, 2002

On a whim, I went back just now and reread my blog entry from Christmas Eve last year, and was very amused to find that a year ago I was doing pretty much exactly what I am right now: sitting at home by myself, grinding away at the story, sipping brandy, going out at intervals into the wintry night for a smoke and some reflection.

It seems apt; this has largely been a year of marking time, stasis. Very little has happened in my life over the past year, and I think I needed that period of calm, because fall of 2001 was not a good time for me, in the mental-health sense. I think I needed some space to resettle/regroup, enough to get me to the point where I'm bored with being all settled and grouped, and am ready to kick out the jams.

I think 2003 is going to be a year of change. I'm ready to finish and post the goddam story, and move on to new stories that have been waiting in the wings. I'm ready to change jobs. I'm ready to change residence, climate, landscape. I'm ready to change where I buy my groceries and where I work out and the newspaper I read and the people I see every day.

Of course, it'd be nice if the universe cooperated with all this by letting me get the job I've applied for. I keep telling myself that I should have at least enough qualifications to get an interview, and I've always done very well at interviews; only once have I not gotten a job I really wanted, once I got to that stage. But there'll be no news on from them for at least two weeks, so I'm deep-breathing and refocusing.

Anyway, whatever happens with that opening, there'll be some changes made around here. That's the New Year's resolution, in a nutshell.

Posted @ 10:32 PM CST [Link]4 comments

(Entry below went up on my LJ yesterday, but I couldn't post it here, because my Greymatter log-in was temporarily out, I think due to server upgrades at Slashcity. Also, my e-mail was out for intervals over last weekend; if anyone sent me private mail, could you resend? Thankee.)

So, I've spent the last three days hunkered down, mostly, squeezing out the grim/bleak/grim/bleak, and rather wishing that I could get with the popslash program, because I could use some giddy glittery good cheer about now. I am also wishing I had more brain. Gee, it'd be nice to have a brain big enough to keep this whole frickin' thing in at once. As usual, with this story, I am trying to get a fix on just how loose-jointed and expansive I can be in something novel-length. With a short piece, I try--don't always succeed, mind you, but try--to make sure that every bit is tightly wrapped into the core and is doing something essential. With this thing, though... I have some scenes that I'm very fond of, that I want to include, and it's not like they're not doing a job, exactly, but they're not absolutely vital to the core mission. I'm leaving them in for now, but as a result the thing is starting to feel more like a big hairy slobbering mutt, rather than a sleek lean greyhound. Which may be just fine, I dunno. I've never written something even a sixth this long before, what the hell do I know?

I once read a piece of writing advice by C. J. Cherryh in which she spoke about the need to be stern with scenes that are essentially (quoting from fallible memory) "characters off in a corner having a little indulged moment." And as much as I might say, "But, but, these scenes are building character! They're, uh, creating atmosphere! And stuff!", there's no question that certain of them could be described as "indulged moments."

And maybe that's fine. Heck, I mean, after all, I am doing this for fun, aren't I? Eh? Right?

Ah well. I have one more week before I hit my deadline. At which point we give it a brush-over, tie a freakin' ribbon around its neck, and send it to the poor hapless betas. At the very least, I hope it'll be housebroken by then. Gah.

Posted @ 10:14 PM CST [Link]3 comments