Fever Blabber

The bombs bursting in the air must have inspired a dark streak in me.  I wrote and shipped off a flash tonight.  Again, it's another one of those will or won't work situations that I don't think I ought to be wasting critique group time with.  Yea or nay can come from an editor.

I'm feverish and snurky.  Stupid cold.  My kids are all better, but I'm just starting to get really sick with the being tired all the time and cough and sneezing and ongoing drainage.  I fell asleep on top of my covers in my clothes last night, woke up at 5am feeling like hash browns that had fallen onto a burner that had just been switched off.  I ended up going back to bed a few hours later, and didn't wake up until 2pm.  Feels like my whole day was wasted, and yet, writing happened.

In marketing news, Brain Harvest is putting on a little contest.  Check out the specs at the Brain Harvest Mega Challenge page.  Jeff VanderMeer will be the guest judge.  It doesn't get much more awesome than that, and yet, there's the possibility of winning a hand-knitted mustache in addition to the cash and accolades.  I'd like to see some INKers and Friends of INK use this contest as an excuse for writing a story based on a prompt (or several prompts.)  Who will take the challenge?  Kami wants to know.  The contest runs from July 15-August 31, so there's plenty of time and therefore no excuses.  Embrace (or eat) the Nike ad.

Bummed

I'm glad that I have some editing goals to focus on, because Golem, my beloved little typewriter, isn't doing so well. I guess three months of daily writing are starting to wear him down. I'll type about 30 characters and then suddenly the piece looks like bnvou294 ai4 ii9039sd. I've done all the troubleshooting I can on my own. I know it is some problem with the daisy wheel, but I haven't been able to fix it. Resetting it only helps for a couple of lines and then it slips again into nonsense.

I'm sad. I'll have to move my daily writing onto Phoenix, which won't be nearly the same. I really didn't anticipate Golem breaking down. I've never had problems with any of my typewriters in the past.

I have an email out to the company. If they can't give me suggestions, at least I have an extended warranty through Staples, where I bought him. It's just a bothering and I've been doing so well keeping up with my writing. I just have to persevere to finish it on Phoenix instead.

Sigh. I miss the view out the back window already. The birds have been gathering there around the bread I've been tossing them. And we have two squirrels visiting now.

Ah well. Hopefully I can have this resolved within a few days. A week at most. And still have the next 21 pages of Warrior Storm written and printed.

It is seriously time to consider a laptop.

I am excited to be working on Reven again, though! Wee hee, that is such a fun bunch of characters!

Virus Non Grata

I think I caught Carole's cold through the internet. Anyway, thanks! I was missing that sore throat. But the cold ease is helping. As are my vitamins and pain meds. And lots of cold water.

Funny thing, hot drinks never have helped sore throats for me so much. But cold, as cold as I can manage, does wonders! Bring on those shakes and smoothies!

Not much has happened in writing this week, what with the cold and putting together Kate's birthday party. Except I do know the next couple of scenes for my short story and I think I know how I want to end it. I got a little stuck trying not to let it turn into a novel, then remembered the trick I've been using in my Nano novel--that emotional 180 in the scenes. I decided to apply that to the whole short story and that got me out of my stuckness. I have a bit of a theme going now, I think. I'm hoping to get a few pages written on it tomorrow and then more on Sunday. Maybe not enough to make my quota for the week, but better than nothing.

I am looking forward to Kate's party. She is too.

In other news, INK business cards arrived today. I guess that means we can be all official!

Amadeus

In the movie "Amadeus," Mozart lay on his deathbed, dictating music to the bitter, bitter end. As much as I love writing, I'm afraid that won't be me. No, I'll probably be propped up by pillows, spending my time reading to distract myself from discomfort, or chit chatting with my family if I have a voice, playing board games or watching movies. I don't subscribe to a muse per se, but under the assumption that I *do* have a muse and that muse is always ready to lend a helping hand when I sit down to write, apparently s/he goes on vacation when I'm sick, and I'm sure s/he will be nowhere to be found around my deathbed. If I were a muse, I wouldn't stick around either. I don't want to see the green sputum, or hear it coming up. I don't want to even glance at a face torn ragged by tissues, or smell the unwashed body of my instrument. Nope, I'd definitely head off to Fiji or something. And rightly so! If I were a muse who made myself available for so many hours at a time, at the drop of a hat, often into the come-morning hours of the night, I wouldn't hesitate to take a few days off while my instrument snurked and gagged and coughed her way through a viral infection.

I must be getting better, though, because s/he keeps poking his/her head into my office while I catch up on blogs. Yay to getting better! Yay return of the muse! Yay world!

And Yay Blogeois! For whatever reason I can't always comment on posts with my current interface, getting some sort of security message when I try, but I can write here--good for you and glad you made it!