Tag Archives: goals

The Holy Highborn

As usual these days, another late post.  Life once again got …odd (mostly internet connectivity and access issues), here we are again on Thursday evening finalizing things.  Plan for next week…  start the post on Tuesday, so it can be finished on the correct day!

That said, I’ve had a pretty awesome week of progress.  Lots of words, some serious cleaning…  generally “good stuff”.

A thought on cleaning…  being a bit of a packrat is more than just laziness or  overwhelmed and busy (though those last two definitely are involved these days).  As I’ve tried to clean out years of accumulated … stuff (stuff I bought, sure I would use it; stuff given to me… because; stuff that was here when we moved in), I’ve found it really hard to get rid of these things—even to give them away (though that does tend to be easier than just tossing them).

An example of this…  The other day I decided it was time to trim my archive of writing magazines.  I have issues of Writer’s Digest, The Writer, and even the Romance Writers Report backlogged for years (some from the 1980s), and since a lot of the articles are either repeats or dreadfully behind the present market needs, I figured I’d clear the lot of them.

I got rid of ten (well, I haven’t yet…  they are in the “to go” pile by the door).

I really could not bring myself to get rid of more than that in one attempt.  The guilt was almost nauseating.  Like “why did I save these so long if I didn’t plan to use them again?”, “what about the hidden gems I missed!”, and the ever frequent (applied to magazines I’d never finished and started at all)… “I don’t have the right to toss these.”

Yeah…

Ten magazines from around a hundred or more…  I had been slowly weeding them, but this was my first attempt at a mass exodus.  Guess I have a little ways to go before I can just ditch the whole box.

Does anyone want some old writing magazines?  😉

We’re once again in Marche/Promenade from the Swan Series with Valichii as he tries to understand what is making his campmates so unsettled this morning.

I included six (sort of) paragraphs today, five for what should have been the 1+4 yesterday and one partial sentence from last week’s entry to offer some extra context.

…it wasn’t likely that the lordlings sponsoring this campaign would let them leave before they had a chance for jousts and sport.

No matter what the holy highborn wanted to think, their mages’ skills gave them no guarantee of victory. Just as because the forces had had success pushing back the frontier into the desert the past few years, it didn’t mean they’d won the war. To Val’s mind, it meant they all needed to be more careful; the lordlings seemed to think it meant reason to parade and fest all the longer.

He’d slept so late this morn on account of their fool carousing. Though, at least, he’d not been hauled out of his rolls to settle the spat between Hirisii’s entourage and the Harnii-Semis as several of his tent-mates had. They’d been allowed to miss first muster this morning as consolation, but given the dogs and the horns, none of them had been sleeping much when he’d stepped out for his morning toilet.

“Me neither. Anyone know who started the story?”

“First I heard it was from old Elsn.” Sibon snorted, nearly covering the table in front of him with crumbs. “Said he had a vision of the battle to end all battles and that we should prepare our souls for Her Mercy.”

“Elsn’s been saying that nonsense for longer than I’ve held the Oath.” Val scoffed.

If you enjoyed that, we have more to enjoy at the WIPpet linky  written by our other awesome members. Gratitude as always to Emily, Wrayburn for graciously maintaining the bloghop

Topsy-Turvy

Just kicking back

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything here.  Sometimes it feels like it’s been a long time since I wrote.  It’s not true…  I’ve managed some writing regularly.  Not as much as I feel I should be doing, and definitely not enough to feel the release writing used to bring to me when life was a bit less crazy.

Things have been a little off-kilter these days.  We’re in the midst of a move, preparing for a trip to the UK (was already half in the works well before all this location change stuff happened), the home repairs and renovations we’d intended on finishing through “Weekend Warrior-ing” are now being done at whirlwind speeds….

I haven’t had a lot of mental energy left for posting to my blogs.  Or rather to this blog.  I have managed pretty well at keeping the ROW80 blog on track.  Mostly…  I dropped the ball this week,  twice.

So, to get myself back into a bit of a schedule, I’m resuming my ROW80 journey.  Simple goals…

  • RWA challenge, write 200o words and edit 100 pages of CTSS each month.
  •  Keep up the ROW80 blog and prep things for the England trip
  • Keep sane goals…  sort through closets and dressers for more donations; sort through houses we’ve visited by neighborhood, access to trains, etc.

It’s enough.  The Boodle has camp for the next two weeks, so I’ll be driving a lot.  Audiobooks!  I think I may want to download an audiobook or two.

Yeah…  that’s how it is.  😉

Did You Cry?

MjAxNC04ZjBlYTU5ZmNiZjdiZjY4It’s that time again… Words, whimsy (well, maybe some whimsy) and another ROW80 check-in.

The check-in is the easy part.  I’ve been…  flumpy.  Mostly I’ve tried to finish off a stack of library books that I’d foolishly taken out (well, actually I’d ordered them through the intra-library loan months before and they’d all managed to arrive at the end of October…  and if I hadn’t signed them out, I’d have had to repeat the request process all over again).  I feel I should be writing, but I also feel I need to finish these books.  I feel…  unfocused and haven’t been able to concentrate on my “work writing”.   I’ve still got some time to work on my proposal for the Golden Heart awards, but lately, I feel like I’m slogging through Flag Fen or someplace similar.  Most any progress I’ve made in my J&tWW fanfic The Odds.

I managed some serious words there. Which leads to the…

WIPpet

I have nine paragraphs today… a bit longer than I’d planned but when I looked at the snippet, things pretty much fell together. This piece from The Odds (I posted from this fanfic last week, dealing with Atyr and Alanii), involving Kieri and Andy’s reunion.  This piece is pretty raw (edited mostly for spelling and really obvious errors but not much else).

Maths: December (12 →1+2) plus 6 equals 9

Kieri looked at something on his arm guard “S__t.” He reached into a pocket. “Here. Nights can get a bit rough in the Laris.” The man passed him a small phase pistol with a sheath and an extra cap of charges.

Andy accepted it without question. Rough was one thing they both knew, and it didn’t look like Kieri had forgotten any of those lessons these past six years.

As he was busy threading the thin waist sash he’d been given by the Andar through the sheath, Andy felt a tenuous touch on his shoulder. He looked up, to meet Kieri’s green-eyed gaze, looking down at him.

Kieri was crying.

Andy asked “what’s wrong?” even though he knew what it had to be.

The other man raised a finger, allowing himself to track it along Andy’s cheek. The tip trembled then paused just before his chin. In a whisper that was no steadier than his hand, Kieri said, “It’s really you. It’s you. The Bright Knows, I wished for this, prayed for this. Just to see you again. To see you—have a chance to tell you…”

Like so many times before Andy felt his breath catch; his blood ignited at the man’s touch. He reached and clutched his lover’s hand to his skin. He stared at that careworn face, admiring every line it held. “Tell me what, lover?” he breathed.

Then, like so many times before, the man stopped short. His expression hardened. He withdrew. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”

Andy felt his breath leave him, worse than if the man had punched him. How he hated when he…when he did that. For a moment he just stared at Kieri—f__n Brat hadn’t changed much after all—and fumed. No, Andy decided. He wasn’t going to leave it alone this time. He’d been dead. Six years he’d been dead, and something had made the Andar and his wife to bring him back. Andy stiffened his lip, then before Kieri could head to the door he asked, “Did you cry when I was shot?”

Hope you enjoyed that.  If you’d like to see more, head over to the WIPpet linky and visit some our other awesome members.  Emily Wrayburn, our gracious host, helps keep us in line (usually), and it’s thanks to her that we’re here.