conspiracy!

I think the world is conspiring against me.  I used to have SO much time on my hands.  And lately?  The universe keeps throwing things to do at me!  I haven't enough time to keep up with all the things, and I really am craving some time to sit down and just be quiet, and write, and decompress.

Alas, gotta keep moving.  When things were quiet, I wished for things to do, and now I am wishing the opposite.  I need to learn to roll with the punches more.

Well, on the plus side, living life means I'll have more things to draw upon when I finally do have time to write!

I'm off to have adventures!

the madness of hyphens

I was in the bookstore and was browsing through Eats, Shoots, and Leaves and rifled through the section on dashes, otherwise known as hyphens.  I loved the opening section. It referenced a quote from the Oxford University Press stylebook: “If you take hyphens seriously, you will surely go mad.”

I think, perhaps, I have skirted the edge of madness, for surely, I spend far too much time considering my hyphenating tendencies. But what a madness!

the trouble with careers

I don't mean my career.  I mean giving characters careers.  How many jobs does a person have in their lifetime?  A few, for sure.  Service industry ones are common, maybe being a lifeguard, or an intern somewhere, and then you sort of settle in to your field, where maybe you have a few different jobs.  So, I'm counting.  I've had...nine different fields.  Is that a lot?  A little?  A good portion of them were jobs I did in my youth, not the sort of jobs I'd necessarily give to characters. 

There are the standbys, of course. Doctor, lawyer, engineer, teacher, police officer/detective...um, what am I missing?

Those jobs are somewhat easy.  I have never done those jobs, but I know what they entail.  (Except for the engineer.  Dude, what do they do all day?)

Jobs for my characters confound me.  I want my characters to have interesting, fulfilling positions that afford them security and opportunity to meet the loves of their lives! 

I feel like this shouldn't be that hard, that I should be able to look up a job and imbue a character with it, but yet, I struggle.

writing time

Finally, an evening to myself!  Although I took long enough to decompress after work (needed dinner, needed veg-out time in front of the tv to rewire the brain for the evening, and needed to start laundry) I am now sitting in my big, comfy chair and looking out at my back area through my French doors (my one super indulgence -- I love the extra air and openness, but I have to have the screens because mosquitoes think I am the most delicious thing ever to have graced the earth).  Computer on, coffee at my elbow, and here I go.

looking forward to tomorrow

Tomorrow, after work, I don't have anything else I have to do.  Nothing.  That means that my laptop and I are going to make some serious miles.

I just need to get a good night's rest, so I will have the energy to get down to brass tacks.  Oh, how many times I've wasted an evening because I was awake, but low on energy.  It seems a cruel twist of fate.  

First up on the editing block will be a paranormal ghost story that has been simmering for far too long.  And if I have my fill of editing, then I have a spooky, gruesome ghoulish haunted lake story to write.

It must be almost Halloween.  I seem to have ghosts on the brain!

the last weekend of summer

I had a very nice one, visiting with family, and catching up on some sleep.  I got in a few long walks, ate the traditional summer fare, and enjoyed a boat ride.

What I did not get?  Any writing time!  And it is driving me a bit bonkers!

wip paragraph meme

Chris Quinton tagged me for posting a paragraph of a wip.  This was the Halloween story that needed more polish, and I'm going to make it into a *much* longer story.  It isn't exactly the very last paragraph, but it is near the very end.
~~

For an endless instant, there was nothing but satisfaction and the overwhelming rush of the most simple of emotions, love and thankfulness bursting from his insides to his skin, and Brandon savored it, and wished it would never end.  Then, practicality took over.  Running his fingers across the nape of Aran's neck, he pulled away, dragging in a deep breath.  His gaze flicked over the house and grounds.  There was the faintest rustle in the nearby tall, dry grass, and it sent a frisson of alarm all through him.  "There are probably more snakes."