OK, first of all: I got no writing done in the past 24 hours because I couldn’t stop reading Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth. My mother-in-law likes the TV show, so I thought I’d give the book a try. I did NOT expect to end up on the kitchen floor with a cup of tea and this book, sobbing over the lives of people 30 years before I was born and an ocean away. I laughed, too, and felt afraid, and was amazed by the beauty of humanity (even as I was enraged by its ugliness).
Absolutely phenomenal, and entirely deserving of one of my 5-star reviews (which, like fine china, are saved for special occasions).
THIS JUST IN: It’s a trilogy. Somebody tell my productivity it’s getting a vacation as soon as I get my paws on the other two books.
–
In other news, here’s my interview with Fel Wetzig at The Peasants Revolt. She’s been interviewing JuNoWriMo participants all month; my answers are from back in May, but they still hold. 🙂
Three someones, actually, and every one of them feline.
Charlie was the first. He started up before 6:00, which is never a good time to be bothering me. “Woe? WOE?” Up and down the hallway, crying. “WOE! BOWEL! HELLO?!” (Charlie has a large vocabulary for a cat, it’s kind of freaky).
He may also be part guinea pig. We’re looking in to it.
Next came Harriet, climbing on me and purring. She was already on The List; as I was trying to fall asleep last night she kept creeping up to my pillow and trying to scoot under the covers, and then climbing on me and purring.
Climbing and purring (and cuddling, and kneading, and then purring so hard she chokes on it) is a big thing for Harriet.
“You can’t stay mad at me!”
I wish I could say that I figured out a way to make her understand that 6-ish in the morning is not Happy Happy Cuddle Time, but I didn’t. I gave in and scratched her head until she fell asleep. Don’t judge me.
Of course, this meant it was Lucy’s turn. What she lacks in vocabulary she makes up in persistence and volume*. “Mew? Mew! MEEEW! MEEEEE, YOOOOOUUUUUU!!!” and then a “WOO!” or two for good measure.
She may also be part evil. We’re looking into it.
Then there was the tiny incident of Charlie and Harriet staging a boxing match right outside of the bedroom where the kids sleep.
A reasonable person would have got out of bed. I’m not a reasonable person. I knew they had plenty of food, their fountain was working and full, the litter boxes were reasonably clean. Lucy probably wanted out, Harriet’s just a love machine, and Charlie is a raving lunatic. I wasn’t going to give in to their demands. Not before 7:00. Instead, I shout-whispered death threats at all of them and put my ear plugs back in.
So then I got up, because it’s Friday, Simon still has school, and it takes at least half an hour to get his butt out of bed. The cats followed me into the boys’ room. Charlie jumped up on Ike’s bed and demanded affection from another sleepy human, Harriet jumped on Simon’s butt and started purring at HIM, and Lucy… I don’t know where she went, she’s a little ninja.
All this time, Jack was sleeping in the computer room, because he thinks that’s his bedroom now. He came out, yawning and stretching and farting. And then prancing, because he’s a Boxer, and that’s just what they do. He pranced and frolicked and skittered across the laminate floors and to the back door. I let him out, turned around…
…and saw that the door to the basement was closed.
Oh.
That never happens. We keep plastic bags stored there so the door can’t close, but closed it was. The cats couldn’t get to their full food dishes or their reasonably-clean litter boxes. The fountain’s in the kitchen, so they had water, but still. They had reasons for the protest they were staging all morning. I just hadn’t understood them.
I felt, quite frankly, like an asshole.
I also realized that I run into situations like this with people almost every day. The cranky kid who whines and forgets to say please and thank you. The five year-old pitching a fit over something as small as losing one of his dinky cars. The cashier at the gas station who all but ignores me, the guy who cuts me off in traffic, the friend who doesn’t seem to put as much into the relationship as I do, the mom who lets her kid take a toy from mine at the park while she’s texting away on her phone and not paying attention.
Yes, they’re all annoying. Sometimes people are just jerks. But maybe their basement doors are closed, and I haven’t bothered to get up and look. In a lot of those cases, I’ll never know. I can ask my son whether something at school is bothering him, or I can try putting him to bed earlier to see if that helps him cope, but I don’t know what that cashier had to overcome to drag her ass to work this morning. I don’t know where that driver is going (he should still be careful no matter what, but that’s not the point), the friend might be struggling with depression and not showing it, and that mom isn’t necessarily texting her best friend to rehash last night’s episode of The Bachelor.
It’s funny that I was thinking about this stuff this morning. Jae at Lit & Scribbles posted one of my recent favourite videos today, and it fits perfectly here (and has a larger message to share). I can’t remember if I’ve shared it here or only on Facebook, but it bears repeating anyway.
We choose how we see the world, we choose whether we judge people harshly or give them the benefit of the doubt. We can remember that their basement doors might be closed, but they either can’t or don’t want to tell us. We can chuck a stuffed dragon in their general direction to make them shut up, or we can get out of bed to see if something’s really wrong. That last one may just be me, but you get my point.
When you’re having a down, sullen, or cranky day, you probably know why. You have reasons and excuses, and you might even expect to be given some leeway for that. Maybe other people do, too.
I know of at least three people who will, if they read this, go “BULLSH*T, people are assholes. Except for me, I’m the only non-asshole.” That’s your choice. I can’t always muster the energy required to choose my attitude, but today I’m going to try.
Just something to think about, courtesy of my cats.
*She does say “hello” sometimes, but that’s a story that involves the ghost of a cat who died a few years ago. Another day, perhaps.
I’ve never really thought about using a pen name. I can see the benefit if you want to keep your personal and writing life separate (I know I wouldn’t want my grandparents to know I wrote smut, if I did that. NEVER happens. *cough*), but I want my own name on my work when it goes out into the world.
Well, kind of my real name… in real life, I’m not Kate. I’m Kathleen. I know, SHOCKING. The weird thing is, I spend so much time on this blog and commenting on others, with critique partners and at write-ins on Twitter that I now think of myself as “Kate” and have to stop to think when I introduce myself to people in real life. Do you know how awkward it is when someone asks your name and you have to stop to think about it? So much worse than forgetting your own phone number…
Anyway. I’ve wanted my own name on my books for a long time. Definitely since I started thinking about publishing anything. There’s just one teeny-tiny problem.
Quick, how do you spell my last name?
Did you have to look? That’s OK, everyone does. Please don’t feel badly if you’re someone who does/has done it in the past, because it’s not just you. Everyone writes my name as “Kate Sparks.”
It’s a fine name, if you ignore the fact that the name “Sparks” in writing leads you to thinking of sappy, tear-jerker romances. But it’s not my name. I’m Sparkes with an “ES,” and like it. It’s not the name I was born with, but it’s actually a pretty cool name. It’s a shortened form of the word “Sparrowhawk,” for one thing, which is a tiny little badass bird. Fine by me!
So what’s the problem? If readers can’t remember how to spell my name, they can’t find me. If someone tells a friend, “I read this amazing book by Kate Sparkes” and their friend is all “AWESOME, I’m gonna look for that” and they search for “Kate Sparks”…
See the problem? Especially for someone just starting out, I mean. If Stephen King changed the spelling of his last name to “Kyngge,” we’d still find him. For me, someone not finding my work on their first Amazon search could equal them saying “screw it, I’m reading the Hunger Games again.” And who could blame them? Fantastic book.
I’m getting off track again, aren’t I?
I’m not changing the spelling of my name to make it more searchable. I’m not changing it to Tallulah Fandongola, even if that is the name I give when I call the pizza place and it might be more recognizable (and is spelled phonetically). Most people probably search for books by title, so I’ll be OK as long as those are easy to remember (not like these ones), but still…
Questions! Will you publish/are you published under your own name? If not, why not? Do you recommend authors to people, or just books? Do you think Kate Sparrowhawk would be a good pen name HOLY CRAP THAT WOULD BE THE BEST PEN NAME EVER! What was I saying? Oh, any other thoughts on pen names, weird spellings, searchability on Google or Amazon? Anything, really. Tell me all of the things. ALL OF THEM! I’m not so much looking for advice or reassurances, since I already know what I’m doing. I just want know what you think.
(Also, if the day ever comes when someone searches on Google for “Kate Sparks” and it says, “Did you mean Kate Sparkes?” I will throw a huge party. Just saying.)
(Also also, have you ever read your own name so many times that it stops making sense and you begin to wonder whether you’re spelling it right? That’s me, right now, editing this post.)
…means nothing to me, really. It’s a long weekend, but AJ is working, and the weather’s crappy.
Still, it’s going to be a good weekend. I have at least one evening to myself, which is good. I have a couple of characters I left in a fun-but-awkward position and haven’t had time to get back to them. I always feel terrible when that happens. I’m hoping for a few thousand words this weekend, at least, but we’ll see.
I don’t have much else to tell you, except that I hope you all have an amazing weekend, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, and I hope your weather is better than mine. 🙂
I’m going to leave you with a song I’ve discovered I can’t listen to in the shower, because I’m clumsy. Singing in the shower is one thing (and I do), but dancing is quite another, and I can’t help wiggling my butt to this one.
(Give ‘er at least a minute, but the end is the best part. And how fun is this lyric video?)
I was nominated for this award by two fantastic bloggers: L. Marie, one of my favourite commenters around here and writer on her fantastic blog “El Space”, where she posts insightful and thought-provoking articles on writing (seriously, go check it out), and Briana Vedsted, author of YA and Westerns and one of those bloggers who’s always helping out everyone else, reblogging blogs on “When I Became an Author”, promoting promotions, interviewing authors who could use the exposure, and sharing awesome bits of herself and her writing in the process. Thank you both!
Two nominations means two sets of questions to answer, and one set for me to make up for my own nominees. Hmm…
From L. Marie:
1. What is one thing you want to do to help change the world? Jeez, start with an easy one why don’t you… I want to make the world a better place by making myself a better example for my boys to look up to, so that they can grow up to be curious, intelligent, respectful, loving, creative versions of whoever it is they want to be. The world needs more people like that. Also, I want to spread happiness and kindness where I can. 2. What is your favorite adaptation of a book to a movie? Ooh, tough one. I’m usually hard on movie adaptations. The Shipping News was really well done, and the Shawshank Redemption. 3. Why did you start your blog? I wanted a place to share all of the fun, weird stuff in my head and to talk about writing. I didn’t think anyone would actually read it… 4. When did you first discover that you wanted to write? Probably in first grade. My school “published” our books by laminating and binding them after they were written and illustrated. It was so fun! 5. Most inspiring outdoor place? Why? Too many! My grandparents’ cottage is one; it’s a peaceful spot on a wooded island in a lake in Northern Ontario, and it inspired a lot of adventures in my mind when I was younger. Cape Spear (the Easternmost point in North America) is fantastically inspiring on foggy days. You wouldn’t believe the atmosphere. 6. Do you have a life slogan? If so, what is it? I don’t. I collect quotes, but I don’t have one slogan. I should get one. 7. Name one person who has influenced the way you see life right now. Why? STOP MAKING ME THINK. OK, Tina Fey. She’s funny and entertaining, but she’s more than that. She’s very smart and says a lot of insightful things about achieving goals, being yourself, and why women today can’t think of feminism as something we don’t need anymore. 8. Who is one of your favorite authors? Why? Just one? Stephen King. A lot of people think he writes pulp for shock value, but there’s more depth to his stories (especially recent ones) than a lot of people give him credit for. He’s talented, he writes genre fiction, and he doesn’t apologize for “wasting” his talent. I don’t love all of his books, but when they hook me I can’t put them down. Also, his book “On Writing” changed my life. 9. One piece of advice you would give to a middle schooler or an older teen is . . . Take time to figure things out on your own before you jump into relationships. You feel like you’re all grown up now, but there’s time for that stuff later. “You complete me” is a terrible philosophy when it comes to love. Figure out who you are, complete yourself, then find someone who appreciates the things that make you you and who brings out the best of that. This takes time; respect yourself enough to know that, and before you make big decisions on who your friends are, boyfriends/girlfriends, sex (or jobs, religion, anything), think about whether it’s helping you move toward being the person you want to be. This is so huge that it’s easy to ignore. 10. A goal you have now is to . . . Self-publish something to see if I can do it.
11. A favorite statement a family member or friend has said to you recently about your writing is . . . From one friend/beta reader on Bound:
“I may neglect my children for a few days while I read this. Does talking to them without looking up from the page constitute neglect? “
“Decent amount of sexual tension, I must say! I’m pretty ready for her to jump Aren.”
“ok back to reading. you have me hooked. I was reading before bed last night and dreamed about magical lands all night.”
“You need to publish this. You’re a natural.”
(When I tried to talk about something else) “Shhh! Aren is flying into Rowan’s stormy mind! DON’T INTERRUPT!!!!”
“ummm… what??? Story over?? I need MORE! Come on.”
HOLY CRAP THE WARM FUZZIES.
And Briana’s questions:
What is your pet peeve? People tossing garbage out of their car windows (I have several, this is actually a minor one)
Where would you like to go on vacation? Ontario, to visit my family
Who is your favorite singer? Um… I don’t have one favourite. Let’s say Harry Chapin for now, since I’m going to do a blog post on him some day. 🙂
Do you have a nickname? My husband calls me Kitty. Kate is actually a nickname; most people call me Kathleen in real life
Is there something you collect, i.e. stamps, rocks, dried flowers? My Little Ponies, moose and chicken-related items, old magazine ads featuring mounties
If you could go back in time for a day, what year would you go to? I can’t even answer this one. Too many variables!
What is your favorite color? Green
What smell reminds you of home? the ocean
What was your first pet? A kitten named Tiffany. She got hit by a car. 😦
What is your most prized possession? Right now, my first Canadian edition copy of Animal Farm that I found in my great-grandmother’s things after she died. It changes, though.
Name your favorite book off the top of your head. East of Eden (see random facts)
OK, let’s check the rules…
Rule number 1 is to list 11 random facts about me. (see post here)
Rule number 2 is to nominate 11 other bloggers for the Liebster Award and list their blogsites. (see below)
Rule number 3 is to notify the bloggers of their award. (I’ll get to it)
Rule number 4 is to ask the award winners 11 questions to answer when they accept their Liebster Award. (below, again)
Rule number 5 is I answer the questions left for me by the blogger who gave me the award. (Done. Twice)
NOMINEES (drumroll, please):
Budget Bliss (a friend of mine blogs about planning her dream wedding on a tight time-and-money budget, and offers tips to others aiming to do the same)
Deciphering Kim (another friend’s personal blog. She’s a fantastic teacher and a beautiful person, and she posts updates on her favourite music, what she’s doing with her students, and various ponderings and pictures)
RDUS Customizers’ Paradise (Shannon sells doll hair and posts interviews with pony/doll/toy customizers to show off their amazing work)
Michelle Proulx- The Blog (Michelle wrote the first Sci-Fi book I’ve ever really loved, and her blog is both informative and ridiculously entertaining)
Lit and Scribbles (I’m sure Jae has been nominated plenty of times, but she’s one of the first WordPress bloggers I really connected with, and her blog on writing is fantastic, so get your butt on over there if you haven’t been)
Trainer Trish (a gentle and informative philosophy on training dogs, insightful posts, sweet pictures. I wish I could take Jack to her classes, they sound like so much fun!)
Tricia Drammeh (another of my new favourite writing blogs, with insights into small, independent publishing’s advantages and pitfalls)
tracycembor (great blog for writers. Her updates on publishing are my favourites)
Walk a Mile in my Shoes (amazing mom of a special needs child offers insights and hopes her story will help others in similar situations)
Opinionated, Baby (another amazing mom who writes. Her Mother’s Day post was incredible, and said things I can never manage to. Lovely person and a talented photographer, too!)
Tales From the Red House (another amazing mom and blogger who I’m proud to say is my cousin. Awesomeness runs in my family, guys.)
There are so many other blogs I love, but I thought I’d mix it up here, throw in a bunch of non-writing blogs and random new favourites. There are other awards to nominate for…
So, did I nominate you? Here are the eleven questions you need to answer in your own post (follow the rules listed above for other requirements, and don’t feel obligated to participate! I’m just trying to show your fantastic blogs some love)
If our knees bent the other way, what would a chair look like? (describe, or better yet, draw)
What is your favourite flower? Favourite tree?
What did you dream about last night (or the last one you can remember)?
What do you hope people will gain by reading your blog?
Of the books you’ve read recently (say, 6 months or a year), what was your favourite? Why?
Sweet or salty?
What is your favourite genre for reading? Movies? If they’re different, why do you think that is?
Imagine your perfect morning. What’s the best way you can think of to wake up?
Summer Olympics, or winter? Favourite sport?
What’s the nicest compliment you’ve received recently (writing-related for writers, otherwise for all others)?
Did you read through this whole post, or just skip to the nominations, rules, and these questions? Be honest, we’ve all done it…
So there we go! Here are the rules again, in case any nominees missed them:
Rule number 1 is to list 11 random facts about me. (see post here)
Rule number 2 is to nominate 11 other bloggers for the Liebster Award and list their blogsites. (see below)
Rule number 3 is to notify the bloggers of their award. (I’ll get to it)
Rule number 4 is to ask the award winners 11 questions to answer when they accept their Liebster Award. (below, again)
Rule number 5 is I answer the questions left for me by the blogger who gave me the award. (Done. Twice)
If you nominated me for this and I missed your questions, let me know! WordPress won’t let me search comments, so if you nominated me somewhere other than my “about me” page, I might have lost it. This goes for the other awards, too.
Sometimes I feel like my efforts to improve my work go unappreciated at home.
Take dialogue, for example. It’s one of my favourite toys; I constantly have little bits of conversations evolving in my head. Random things. Tiny bits of conversational flotsam that distract me from the real world. Sometimes this dialogue applies to a story I’m working on. Other times it’s generated by a situation, and I know it will never fit in anywhere. Still, it’s fun to play with, and I think the paractice helps when it comes time to write dialogue in a story.
OK, so sometimes this leaves me giggling to myself in the grocery store for no apparent reason, but strangers thinking I’m off my rocker is a small price to pay for entertainment and experience.
I recently decided to take this show on the road— that is, I’ve started grabbing every opportunity I can to inject dramatic or interesting dialogue into conversations with my husband. Now he thinks I’m nuts. Really, though, it’s so much more rewarding when he has no idea that he’s my guinea pig.
Example:
AJ: “Kit, do you know where the Windex is?”
Me: “Pointed. At. Your. HEAD.”
I think I should get bonus points for the fact that I did, in fact, have a squirt bottle of the blue stuff pointed at the back of his cranium, but that’s beside the point. You see how this works?
That one just got me The Look. Other attempts haven’t gone so well. Like last weekend, when I decided to go all old-school Batman with a nasty twist, just to see how that went:
Me: “Leaking LADY-BITS it’s cold out there!”
AJ: *dead silence* “That… was the worst thing I have ever heard.”
Me: (after laughing until my stomach hurt) “I didn’t say what was leaking…”
AJ: “Doesn’t matter.”
Come to think of it, we have a lot of those moments when I know he wants to say, “Please don’t ever speak to me again,” and I wouldn’t even blame him.
So here’s my challenge for you: choose your target(s). In the middle of a conversation, use your whip-smart brain and writerly instincts to inject something dramatic, suspenseful, cheesy, or completely bonkers into a conversation*. Defy someone’s conversational expectations. Turn your dinner conversation into a one-sided scene from Flash Gordon, or imagine yourself as a world-weary PI and your [sister, boss, uncle George] as the dame with legs that won’t quit who just walked into your office with a sob-story that makes you reach for your [whatever world-weary PI’s drink]. On your way out the door to get groceries, convince the dog that you only have five minutes to get to the store to diffuse a bomb/stop the alien body snatchers/defeat the Invasion of the Watermelons of Death.
Trust me, dogs love that shit.
And please, report back to us here, whatever happens. (Disclaimer: I am not responsible for what happens if you try this on the wrong person and they call the police. That’s all on you, you weirdo.)
Well. I’ve been nominated for a few blog awards now, and I’m going to be accepting them over the next few weeks (as will be explained later). But most of these things require a list of random facts about myself. Heeeeere’s what I’m gonna do: I’m going to put this post right here and refer back to it so I don’t have to keep track of what I’ve said and what I haven’t.
Yay!
So, here’s some random crap about me. Feel free to skim or skip. 😉
I’m married to a Mountie. Yes, he has the red serge uniform, but I prefer his everyday blue and grey one. No, he doesn’t have a horse. Yes, I wish he did.
Also, massive boots (with mine)
I love chickens. Like, I’m obsessed. I want a few laying hens of my own, but getting them around here is a problem (I could get a few varieties of bantams if I wanted, but no one around here has the orpingtons, australorps, and the other big girls I so love). No companies will ship day-old chicks here because mail takes so long. So I sit and weep.
My brain explodes when I find things in real life that match up with things in my stories. An actor who holy crap looks exactly like Aren, a breed of horse that’s just an omnivorous diet away from my fictional horse species, a landscape that looks like a place in Tyrea. Freaks me out, and I LOVE IT.
I’ve lost 10 lbs since last summer. I want to lose more, but I don’t want to lose more boobage. I’m so torn. BOOBS, DON’T LEAVE ME I NEED YOU.
The first story I finished and was proud of after I started recovering from round 1 with depression was called “The Tale of the Three Princesses” and was about what happened when Cinderella, Snow White, and Rapunzel all realized they were married to Prince Charming (that jerk!). I loved it. I have no idea what happened to it.
Hey, maybe I’ll re-write that some day…
I love crazy socks, especially ones I can mix and match. Wrong colours don’t bother me, but I can’t wear two socks of different weights/textures.
Got these for Christmas. Fantastic.
Which reminds me: I have this weird thing where both sides of my body have to be equal. Like, if I hit one toe on a shopping cart, I have to stop and hit the other one to make them feel the same. If I scratch one arm, I have to scratch the other. And if I’m sleeping on one side and have to get up, I can’t fall asleep again on the same side. I have to roll over (yes, even if I’m not consciously thinking about it. Took me YEARS to figure out why I had to keep rolling over)
Going back to the sock thing, I enjoy making sock animals and monsters. So cute.
I also customize My Little Ponies and Monster High dolls. Well, I did, I don’t have time now. I can’t seem to grow up.
Trippy Tulip in terrible lighting
before (l) and after (r). I like mine better. 🙂
My favourite Pinterest board I keep is my Crushable board. I was going to call it “Doable,” but I decided to add my girl crushes, and I kind of don’t swing that way.
I have three cats. You’ve seen pictures of Harriet and Lucy (though it’s really hard to get a good picture of a black cat!), but maybe not Charlie. He’s a weird dude. I love him, but he’s nuts. Always has been. All three are former shelter cats, adopted as adults. I highly recommend it.
Charlie: Psycho-Puss extraordinaire
Harriet: one classy lady
Lucy’s “CHEEEEEEESE!” face
My favourite book is East of Eden by John Steinbeck. The writing makes me cry because I will never achieve anything like it, and I love the story, the characters, and the way references and themes are woven through the narrative. That said, I’ve never finished any of Steinbeck’s other books. Yet.
I want to make a living as a writer. I don’t think it’s going to happen, but I can dream.
I think I’m a nice person. I’m also lazy and selfish, though. Not sure what that makes me, other than normal.
There are a few celebrities who I dislike far more than I should dislike anyone I’ve never met. They consistently annoy me, and I try to avoid reading or seeing anything having anything to do with them because it all just tends to piss me off more. Hint: if you have ever had a singing career just because you’re pretty (I can’t even explain how much this pisses me off), are famous for being famous, played dumb for TV ratings (please tell me that was an act), continue to be famous for doing nothing of note except for being in public and getting pregnant, and/or give your children whackadoodle names because they’re speshul snowflakes, you might be on that list (I’ve included several people here, but you get the idea). I’ve tried to like you, it’s just not working out. I’m sure this doesn’t bother you at all, but I’m still sorry. When bad things happen to you I do feel sorry for you as a human being, and I might even jump into conversations to defend you on that level. But you still piss me off as a celebrity.
Sometimes I rant a little.
I am totally wasting time right now that I should be using for more productive things like writing or laundry.
I love the smell of tomato plants. They smell like summer.
I don’t watch movies very often, but I have a few I’ll watch over and over: Empire Records, Clueless, Sugar and Spice, Drop Dead Gorgeous, The Shipping News, Voyage of the Dawn Treader, several others. I don’t always have the attention span for anything new and/or too serious.
It’s very difficult for me to not do posts here on weird things my 5-year old says. He is the king of random.
I’m done for now. Anything else you need to know? Ask away. 😉
Wow, good day today! I had a little headache thanks to the nice, sunny weather, but I’ll let that go. Because…
-the kids slept until 8:00 this morning.
-it was sunny and 12 degrees (Celsius) outside today.
– AND… (redacted to preserve PG rating)
-I took Jack for a long and challenging (for me) walk. Got sweaty and a little sunburned BUT we had a good walk AND…
-a bald eagle flew right over us! So amazing.
-AND… I got to go to a Jamberry nails party on facebook. I realized that a party with no other actual people around is actually the perfect party for me. My mom also attended, so we kind of got to go shopping together from half a country away. Aww.
-AND I washed the car for the first time since the garden hose froze. I’d forgotten how very silver Tina Fe was under all of that dirt.
-AND I started editing another favourite part of Bound. OK, so I have too many favourites, but there’s feelings in this part, yo. Good feelings. Confusing feelings. Also children in ridiculous costumes punching each other, which can’t be a bad thing.
And with that, I go off to bed. The children are asleep, no one is coughing, this Tension Tamer tea is very delicious (and has a dragon the box, so hooray for that), the Advil will be working soon, the laundry is folded, and I’m going to go dream me some dreamy dreams.
I’ve had a migraine all day. It feels like an upset stomach in my head. My brain is going to throw up.
Where would that go? Maybe it already did and there’s nowhere for that stuff to go, and it’s squishing my brain. Why is no one reporting this in medical journals?! Somebody should get on that.
I’m pretty much a zombie. Advil, Tylenol, Aleve. It still hurts. I just don’t care as much. Do painkillers do this to everyone? I’m all wonky.
Actually, a zombie probably wouldn’t feel pain. Or do they? Would I feel better if I were deader? But then my limbs would probably fall off. Kind of a trade-off, I guess.
Know what’s a funny word? Ornery. Sounds like a bird. An Oriole. Or Ornithology. Orville the Ornery Ornithologist should be a thing. Should be a children’s book. I should do that after I finish writing my last brilliant idea:
Blueballs the Eternally Frustrated Pirate and His Crew of Seasick Seamen.
Heh.
Ow.
I should not try to work tonight.
EDIT:
Holy crap this teapot has a helm it’s a Game of Thrones teapot. O.o
It’s a sad day, my friends. My beloved netbook is no longer with us.
The end came suddenly, and she was in good spirits last time I used her. I don’t think she suffered. One minute she seemed fine, the next she was still fine, but not charging.
I took her to the best help I could find, and they presented me with a tough choice: spend the money to fix her, or get my data transferred over to a “like new” refurbished computer for less, and more quickly.
If I’d had the money, I’d have spent it to save her, even if it cost a lot more.
Seriously.
I know it’s stupid. One computer should be pretty much the same as any other. The new one’s the same brand (make, not model). But I get terribly attached to inanimate objects.
We’ve been through a lot together. I wrote a novel on that computer. And re-wrote it. Repeatedly. And drafted another one. Then there were the blog posts, the evenings spent going back and forth between Scrivener and Facebook… We had many days together in car dealerships waiting for repairs and oil changes, and she never complained about being bored. She was with me when I discovered the library in Gander, and though she wasn’t around for my first NaNoWriMo, she was with me through two wins (if you count camp) and one fail. I mean, loss. I mean… Attempt? Whatever.
She was the first computer that was ever MINE, and she made it possible for me to actually find time to write.
Also, she was black and shiny, and had wicked leaf and bird decals on the hood. Screen back? Again, whatever.
The new one will be fine. Sure, it’s a little different; it’s red, and the power button’s not the same. But it works, and that’s important… I guess.
I’m going to act like there’s no superstitious feeling connected to the fact that I’ve only had success with this story on that one computer, because that would be silly. Silly like sport-type guys not shaving or changing their socks (who marries these people, anyway?).
Does this post seem especially disjointed to anyone else? I CAN’T DO IT WITHOUT HER! *sob*
Tell me I’m not the only one who forms irrational attachments to inanimate objects, that I’m not the only one who feels like I owe them something after their years of service.* You all do this, right?
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*I place the blame for this squarely on The Velveteen Rabbit. It was loved! It was REAL! I could have saved it instead of letting them use it for parts! So what if it had scarlet fever**?
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disregard the prologue 