Monday, the other end of.
Feb. 26th, 2007 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lauraanne_gilmanthings that break my brain: "Catwoman. MZB's Renunciates. Compare and Discuss." Damned if it doesn't work.
A walk into town and back again cleared my head of many things, and refilled it with many other things. That is what a good walk in falling snow should do, no? I have realized that everyone in the cosa nostradamus has father issues. Specifically, father-abandonement issues.
So much for everyone who wants to analyze the writer via her work. My dad's totally a present-and-accounted-for type. I have issues, lord knows -- I have subscriptions -- but that's not one of them.
The two (as far as I can remember) mother characters, on the other hand, are imperfect but well-meaning and loving. So either my mom and I are cool, or there's major amounts of repression going on there.
(*hi mom! sorry mom!*)
and speaking of mom:
evilmeer: just hit 2,900 words for the day.
evilmer: I really should stop and do other stuff
momgilman: sounds like you've done a marathon.
evilmeer: pretty good day, yeah.
evilmeer: Just need to keep to the minimum, rest of the week
evilmeer: really need to do 7,000 a week, minimum.
momgilman: you are my hero, you know that?
End result? 3,100 words and another chapter closer to threequarterbookitis. I'm going to run out of plot before I hit word count. That's okay. There are "add this earlier, damn it!" notes littering the side of the road that need to be dealt with before I can sign off, anyway.
Plus, another chunk of editing nailed to the desk. Yay me.
And now there is a hot shower and a glass of red wine waiting for me. And a Great Performances special on Sting's "Song from the Labyrinth," and why the HELL do I not own this already?
A walk into town and back again cleared my head of many things, and refilled it with many other things. That is what a good walk in falling snow should do, no? I have realized that everyone in the cosa nostradamus has father issues. Specifically, father-abandonement issues.
So much for everyone who wants to analyze the writer via her work. My dad's totally a present-and-accounted-for type. I have issues, lord knows -- I have subscriptions -- but that's not one of them.
The two (as far as I can remember) mother characters, on the other hand, are imperfect but well-meaning and loving. So either my mom and I are cool, or there's major amounts of repression going on there.
(*hi mom! sorry mom!*)
and speaking of mom:
evilmeer: just hit 2,900 words for the day.
evilmer: I really should stop and do other stuff
momgilman: sounds like you've done a marathon.
evilmeer: pretty good day, yeah.
evilmeer: Just need to keep to the minimum, rest of the week
evilmeer: really need to do 7,000 a week, minimum.
momgilman: you are my hero, you know that?
End result? 3,100 words and another chapter closer to threequarterbookitis. I'm going to run out of plot before I hit word count. That's okay. There are "add this earlier, damn it!" notes littering the side of the road that need to be dealt with before I can sign off, anyway.
Plus, another chunk of editing nailed to the desk. Yay me.
And now there is a hot shower and a glass of red wine waiting for me. And a Great Performances special on Sting's "Song from the Labyrinth," and why the HELL do I not own this already?
