It’s been a rough week at the Chez Mabee, with almost no writing of any kind… and less involving my characters. To renew a more intimate relationship with them all, I drifted back into my fanfic the Was Long Variation* for some fun and casual company before getting back to Courting the Swan Song.
Here are two (too àpropos for the present weather) paragraphs. My WIPpet maths are “take one (1) 2 from 22 to get 2”:
Before he allowed Koru to set the thawing sequence on the cryo unit, Alanii donned a suit and walked into the lab to see their unknown guest.
He ran a glove over the glass to clear the new frost. Inside a young man lay stopped in time, his red and white features proving a rushed freezing job. Tossled sable strands of hair were stuck to his face in places, iced to his eyelids, his lips. The youth might have been beautiful once, but at the moment, encased in non-death, non-life, his narrow features brought sharply into focus by the shards of his own blood, the boy seemed to only add to the warning Alanii had just received. He hurriedly scuffed the icy shavings back over the revealed visage.
* If anyone wishes to read more pieces of the Was Long Variation, several other excerpts can be found on this blog, most notably: Fiction, Fiction, Friction; Passwords; Carriage Ride; and Cutting Words
Normally by this point in a round, I would reassess my goals to see if I should change anything. Not this time. Maybe by next week, but for now, things need to progress the way they are a bit longer before I change anything. Last week was spent being exhausted and sick… mostly exhausted with a sick child.
So here again is a review of my goals, with notes:
- write every day; at the minimum, do 5 sentences I wrote two days only since last Wednesday
- finish a complete (rough) draft of Courting the Swan Song see above
- make twice weekly blog posts (WIPpet Wednesdays and Some Thing 4 Sundays) on a consistent schedule completely forgot Sunday’s post until Monday evening and decided against posting my lack of progress
- maintain active sponsor participation I still need to write my sponsor post; I’m behind on sponsor visits from Sunday
- energize myself with more physical activity does getting out of bed every hour or so to help my son count?
- reclaim my writing space sort of some progress here, at least in my upstairs, curl in the comfy chair with my laptop space
- go through some piece of my electronic home (desktop, laptop, server space, Dropbox, etc.) weekly nada
- laugh more, hug my family more, share myself with friends more… a world of more, because I’m tired of Living in the Depression* the three of us went out to dinner last night with Elizabeth Anne Mitchell and her husband last night
As you can see, not much going on here. I did an interesting “writer’ moment” last night at Colonie Center on the way to pick up my husband from work for the above mentioned dinner.
In my (sadly) typical fashion, my feet tangled in each other as the Boodle and I were running across the service road in the parking lot, and I made a near face plant in front of an on-coming car. No biggie… I wasn’t hit.
I was a bit winded and shaken. Mostly I was mad. Not a single person walking to their cars or any of the cars that went by stopped to ask if I was okay or make sure the Boodle was safe. I would never just drive by.
What does this have to do with writing? Well, first it was the awareness of how the fall happened… Since I write “Swords & Sorcery” style fantasy, I write a lot of battle scenes. And I realized a lot of “falls” in stories are written very carelessly. Yes, some are quick, “shake it off” things, but there are also those “pull yourself up and still tremble” things, and that the later makes for a more interesting fight scene.
No one likes a character to have everything too easy.
The second writer’s moment came when went to the bathroom later and found that my dress pants (which looked as good as new) had done nothing to protect my knee cap from getting a quarter-sided gouge out of it that had caked to my long johns. And I couldn’t help thinking about all those aftermath scenes where my characters sat and cleaned their weapons, felt a bit stiff, maybe bruised but otherwise okay…
Being clumsy can be good for the writer’s soul, I guess.