Last week wasn't great on several levels. With my attention in too many directions and brain dealing with a couple different craptastic situations - mostly work related - I didn't get a whole lot of writing done. Nor did I get any reading in, though I did try to start one book, my head just wasn't up for it. And sleep, not so much either.
Clearly I needed to step back and recharge and that usually calls for some vegetating in front of the tv. Sleep has yet to settle back into a restful event, but I did enjoy not falling asleep to:
Ascension: An odd little scif-fi miniseries about a space ship launched in the 60's heading off on a three generation mission to a new world to colonize. If you enjoyed Tricia Helfer in BSG, she has a similar, though non-imaginary (those were some of my favorite scenes), role here. And the ending was an enjoyable "ah-ha, I see where you were actually going with that" moment. Too bad it never made it to a full series.
The Man in the High Castle: Now eagerly awaiting season 2, this series takes place also in the 60's. It wasn't my choice of themes for this binge viewing period, really. It just happened that way. In an alternate history where the Nazi's didn't lose the war and the US is divided between the Japanese and Germany. Hitler is still alive and is seemingly obsessed with even more alternate history that shows up on mysterious films. Confused as to what is real? Yeah, most of the characters are too. I have not read the book so I'm with them and will have to wait to see where this is going next season.
Dollhouse: In our quest for the next thing to watch, we gave an episode a try. My husband gave this a meh vote. I almost did to. The first episode had a Quantum Leap vibe, where the same actor is going to play a new character every week. I expected more from Joss Whedon, and as much as I enjoy Angel and Buffy snark entertainment, that wasn't what I was looking for. However, I gave the series a couple more episodes on my own to rope me in because: actors. Want to get a dose of actors from BSG, Firefly, and Buffy? Many of them turn up throughout the two seasons of this generally well written show.
After two chaotic weekends (which likely also played into my burned out feeling), I gave myself two days of utter downtime and camped out in my comfy chair, earbuds in, watching two entire seasons in two days. Get your own food, people. I'm on vacation right here. And really, what better show to take a mental vacation with, than a show about people taking a (albeit mostly non-voluntary) vacation from themselves? Okay, so my downtime turned out a lot better than theirs did, but still.
The part I appreciated most about this series was that the first season could have ended without coming back. We got a glimpse into where the show was going. I loved that. So many (specifically sci-fi) shows just drop off the air and you never know where they were headed. Here, I would have been satisfied. I'm glad there was a second season, which also had a terrific ending, but I did truly appreciate that season one finale. More shows should do this rather than leaving disgruntled sci-fi fans in their wake. I'd start a list, but there are so many that annoyed me when they got cancelled with no resolution that I'd just get angry all over again.
And now I suppose I should get back to writing.
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
March IWSG
I have a couple of upcoming author events to attend, where I can promote A Broken Race. Interviews have been kept up on, except for reviewing my answers to Ms. Marketing's questions from our last meeting. Yeah, I've got to get on that.
But now, Tuesday evening, I've just received the initial editing overview notes from a prospective publisher of Trust: Book 1 of The Narvan. I'm holding off on any big announcements on that front until I digest these and decide if I want to proceed with a contract should all parties agree to move forward.
I've played the get the contract before the initial notes game before and it wasn't pretty. Lifopoly anyone? I much prefer this order of events.
These notes, I think I can work with for the most part. But as I sit here, having read them over four times, I'm seriously pondering how on earth I'm going to conquer the issue of too many subplots to do them all justice. Yes, there are a lot. I know that. It's a complex story. All of them are necessary to pull the story together at the conclusion and provide the framework for the rest of the series.
The immediate solution that comes to mind would be to divide the first book in two thereby making the plot in each less complex and more leisurely to digest. I do have a rather breakneck pace set because that's the speed at which I like to read.
With the requested addition of areas needing more description and room to follow the suggestion of expounding on the existing subplots, reaching two novels worth of word count isn't an utterly stressful prospect. However, that would create the situation for a cliffhanger ending, because we'd essentially be leaving off in the middle. There is a scene that would lend itself to this purpose, but I
What are your feelings on cliffhangers? Does it drive you to buy the next book or annoy you to the point where you'd never buy anything by that author again?
Please check out posts by other ISWG participants here.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Take this. It's free.
I've always been a fish person. Maybe it's a Pisces thing. There's always been an aquarium in my house somewhere.
Angel fish are my favorite. Finicky and violent, but beautiful with their long, flowing fins. I've also done stints with gouramis, tetras of various sorts, and black moors along, with a lot of little fish to round out the tank. Most recently, before the move a year ago, I'd purchased two dime-sized angel fish, one black and one white, and watched as they grew. Unfortunately, they hated one another and only one survived the move to the new house, being in the middle of an arctic freaking winter. Several other smaller fish were also casualties.
With only four surviving fish in my twenty gallon tank, I began to contemplate shutting it down. As much as I do enjoy watching the fish, it's work to keep the tank up with scrubbing the outbreaks of hard red algae, medicating sick fish, trimming of plants, keeping the water level up, and the vacuuming of poo. And well, I've been doing it for a very long time. Maybe it was time to put the tank to rest. What would it be like to sit on the couch and not hear the constant drone of the air pump?
As if it was a sign, the eight inch long pleco that I'd had since it was just a little guy, turned belly up. Green algae overtook the red within a week and the tank really started to look nasty. But it sits right by my dining room table, and I don't like looking at nasty when I eat. So I scrubbed it. The algae returned within a week.
The angel fish died, well, no, to be honest, it was stupid. One of the other remaining small fish had also died, and the angel fish thought it looked like a great meal. Except it was a little too big. So here's my beautiful black angel fish swimming around with half of a dead fish stuck hanging out of it's mouth. I gave it a few hours, but it didn't manage to solve the situation on its own. Again, not what I want to see when I'm eating.
So, taking a deep breath, I reached in and removed the dead fish from the other fish's mouth. Mmmm tasty. But it was a wasted effort. I don't know how long the angel fish had been stuck with it's mouth full before I'd spotted the problem, but the angel fish turned up dead the next day.
Yep, that means one lonely tetra in a twenty gallon tank. To shut it down or clean it up and make a run to the pet store? I debated for a few days. The answer came when my daughter announced she had to go to the pet store to get food for her cockatiel. Well crap, now I'm there anyway. And they had fish on sale.
With ten bucks worth of fish in hand, including a new pleco to deal with the algae, I followed the fish retrieving employee to the counter where he bagged our carefully chosen purchases. There, already sitting on the counter, propped up against a container of rubber bands, was a single guppy in bag.
"What's the story with that fish?" I asked.
"Some lady brought it back. Said it kept having babies."
I peered at the slim guppy through the bag. "They do that. I've had several of them over the years. I even have a baby fish box from when I had that same issue. Never had much luck with the babies though. The other fish always managed to eat them."
"Take this." He handed me the bagged guppy along with the other fish. "It's free."
Happy with a free fish, my daughter and I made our way out into the frigid winter air, and introduced our new fish to their home.
I spent the next few days policing the tank, making sure everyone was behaving and, more importantly still alive. They all seemed to be doing fine. The pleco was doing its job. The gourami and the long-surviving tetra weren't picking on anyone, and the guppy and four long fin zebra danios were fun to watch while we ate. Ah, tank life was good.
Then, as is the way of fish, once the seven day replacement guarantee was up, they started dying. I swear they know when the seven days are up.
"No, Phil, you have to wait to die until tomorrow. Then she can't replace you. No one can replace you, Phil! Just hold on one more day. You can do it!"
One by one, they all died. Except for the guppy. And the tetra. With a whole two fish left and certain this was a sign that I should have just closed the stupid tank down and saved the ten bucks, I decided to still feed them, but otherwise let nature take its course.
Green algae ran rampant. Without me trimming them back, the live plants grew long enough to gather on top of the water and block most of the light from above. In that dark and murky tank, the guppy and the tetra made some sort of fish pact to never die.
Bleary eyed and not really caring anymore, I opened the tank one morning to feed them. What the hell was moving around in the plants? I turned on the aquarium light, not that it helped much. They were everywhere. Baby guppies.
Eyeballs and a tail. I counted about twenty of them. They were in the rocks at the bottom, in the plants at the top, and the silver specks of their tiny stomachs glinting in the murk in between.
Contrary to every other time I've had an explosion of guppies in my tank, the tetra and the mother guppy didn't view this development as a glorious feast. They went about their business of not dying and discerning if the thing in their mouth was poo or food as if nothing had changed.
According to my count, two weeks later, not a single baby guppy has perished. They're all thriving in the filthy tank that I can't clean for fear of sucking up half the babies.
This may be the last round of fish, or maybe it won't if the guppy and the tetra continue their pact. I may never know the silence that is the absence of the air pump. But for now, I'll enjoy peering through the overgrown plants and the green haze to watch the tiny guppies grow in the freedom of the whole tank, where as long as they avoid looking like poo, they'll be left alone to live.
Angel fish are my favorite. Finicky and violent, but beautiful with their long, flowing fins. I've also done stints with gouramis, tetras of various sorts, and black moors along, with a lot of little fish to round out the tank. Most recently, before the move a year ago, I'd purchased two dime-sized angel fish, one black and one white, and watched as they grew. Unfortunately, they hated one another and only one survived the move to the new house, being in the middle of an arctic freaking winter. Several other smaller fish were also casualties.
With only four surviving fish in my twenty gallon tank, I began to contemplate shutting it down. As much as I do enjoy watching the fish, it's work to keep the tank up with scrubbing the outbreaks of hard red algae, medicating sick fish, trimming of plants, keeping the water level up, and the vacuuming of poo. And well, I've been doing it for a very long time. Maybe it was time to put the tank to rest. What would it be like to sit on the couch and not hear the constant drone of the air pump?
As if it was a sign, the eight inch long pleco that I'd had since it was just a little guy, turned belly up. Green algae overtook the red within a week and the tank really started to look nasty. But it sits right by my dining room table, and I don't like looking at nasty when I eat. So I scrubbed it. The algae returned within a week.
The angel fish died, well, no, to be honest, it was stupid. One of the other remaining small fish had also died, and the angel fish thought it looked like a great meal. Except it was a little too big. So here's my beautiful black angel fish swimming around with half of a dead fish stuck hanging out of it's mouth. I gave it a few hours, but it didn't manage to solve the situation on its own. Again, not what I want to see when I'm eating.
So, taking a deep breath, I reached in and removed the dead fish from the other fish's mouth. Mmmm tasty. But it was a wasted effort. I don't know how long the angel fish had been stuck with it's mouth full before I'd spotted the problem, but the angel fish turned up dead the next day.
Yep, that means one lonely tetra in a twenty gallon tank. To shut it down or clean it up and make a run to the pet store? I debated for a few days. The answer came when my daughter announced she had to go to the pet store to get food for her cockatiel. Well crap, now I'm there anyway. And they had fish on sale.
With ten bucks worth of fish in hand, including a new pleco to deal with the algae, I followed the fish retrieving employee to the counter where he bagged our carefully chosen purchases. There, already sitting on the counter, propped up against a container of rubber bands, was a single guppy in bag.
"What's the story with that fish?" I asked.
"Some lady brought it back. Said it kept having babies."
I peered at the slim guppy through the bag. "They do that. I've had several of them over the years. I even have a baby fish box from when I had that same issue. Never had much luck with the babies though. The other fish always managed to eat them."
"Take this." He handed me the bagged guppy along with the other fish. "It's free."
Happy with a free fish, my daughter and I made our way out into the frigid winter air, and introduced our new fish to their home.
I spent the next few days policing the tank, making sure everyone was behaving and, more importantly still alive. They all seemed to be doing fine. The pleco was doing its job. The gourami and the long-surviving tetra weren't picking on anyone, and the guppy and four long fin zebra danios were fun to watch while we ate. Ah, tank life was good.
Then, as is the way of fish, once the seven day replacement guarantee was up, they started dying. I swear they know when the seven days are up.
"No, Phil, you have to wait to die until tomorrow. Then she can't replace you. No one can replace you, Phil! Just hold on one more day. You can do it!"
One by one, they all died. Except for the guppy. And the tetra. With a whole two fish left and certain this was a sign that I should have just closed the stupid tank down and saved the ten bucks, I decided to still feed them, but otherwise let nature take its course.
Green algae ran rampant. Without me trimming them back, the live plants grew long enough to gather on top of the water and block most of the light from above. In that dark and murky tank, the guppy and the tetra made some sort of fish pact to never die.
Bleary eyed and not really caring anymore, I opened the tank one morning to feed them. What the hell was moving around in the plants? I turned on the aquarium light, not that it helped much. They were everywhere. Baby guppies.
Eyeballs and a tail. I counted about twenty of them. They were in the rocks at the bottom, in the plants at the top, and the silver specks of their tiny stomachs glinting in the murk in between.
Contrary to every other time I've had an explosion of guppies in my tank, the tetra and the mother guppy didn't view this development as a glorious feast. They went about their business of not dying and discerning if the thing in their mouth was poo or food as if nothing had changed.
According to my count, two weeks later, not a single baby guppy has perished. They're all thriving in the filthy tank that I can't clean for fear of sucking up half the babies.
This may be the last round of fish, or maybe it won't if the guppy and the tetra continue their pact. I may never know the silence that is the absence of the air pump. But for now, I'll enjoy peering through the overgrown plants and the green haze to watch the tiny guppies grow in the freedom of the whole tank, where as long as they avoid looking like poo, they'll be left alone to live.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Love and Interviews
Happy day of love, or return of The Walking Dead, depending on your outlook. I'm in favor of the zombies, myself. It's also a love thing. Evenings on the couch with one of our favorite shows is couple time.
While I'm busy writing today, because my characters need love too, stop on over to Madeline Dyer's blog where I talk about A Broken Race and other writerly things. And when you're done there, slid over to Authors Answer were we all talk about writing romance. See, it is all about love today.
I hope you're a showered with roses, chocolates and special meals. Or zombies. Whatever makes you happy.
While I'm busy writing today, because my characters need love too, stop on over to Madeline Dyer's blog where I talk about A Broken Race and other writerly things. And when you're done there, slid over to Authors Answer were we all talk about writing romance. See, it is all about love today.
I hope you're a showered with roses, chocolates and special meals. Or zombies. Whatever makes you happy.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
The Eye Report
It's been another productive couple weeks so time again for anther update on what my eyes have been up to.
I've finally settled on working title for Book 3 of The Narvan: Bound In Blue. That project has been zipping along and is now up to 55K. Only 35K more and then the editing fun begins. Really though, I like the editing stage. I'm looking forward to cleaning this up and making it presentable.
After attending my first meeting with the local writing group, I meet up with Lindsey Winsemius who was just getting ready to release her second novel, Patrician. Which meant I had to catch up on the first novel to appreciate the second one. I made it through Reaper in a day and half, because work. If you're looking for a dystopian fix with some sweet romance, check out her books.
In TV land, we discovered Dark Matter. Okay, so we didn't discover it, that would be bad, but we did find the show and watched the entire season. I love Netflix for enabling my binge tendencies. If you're still mourning the loss of Firefly, this sci-fi show about good bad...maybe bad...trying to be good...violently bad guys (and gals) in a spaceship may just fill the whole in your heart.
Last night we finished the season of Jessica Jones. I did enjoy this show, but there so were so many moments throughout the last few episodes where we both yelled at the television," just kill him already", that it made the end of the season feel more like a relief than resolution.
And now to enjoy some writing time while everyone else is preparing for sportball frenzy.
I've finally settled on working title for Book 3 of The Narvan: Bound In Blue. That project has been zipping along and is now up to 55K. Only 35K more and then the editing fun begins. Really though, I like the editing stage. I'm looking forward to cleaning this up and making it presentable.
After attending my first meeting with the local writing group, I meet up with Lindsey Winsemius who was just getting ready to release her second novel, Patrician. Which meant I had to catch up on the first novel to appreciate the second one. I made it through Reaper in a day and half, because work. If you're looking for a dystopian fix with some sweet romance, check out her books.
In TV land, we discovered Dark Matter. Okay, so we didn't discover it, that would be bad, but we did find the show and watched the entire season. I love Netflix for enabling my binge tendencies. If you're still mourning the loss of Firefly, this sci-fi show about good bad...maybe bad...trying to be good...violently bad guys (and gals) in a spaceship may just fill the whole in your heart.
Last night we finished the season of Jessica Jones. I did enjoy this show, but there so were so many moments throughout the last few episodes where we both yelled at the television," just kill him already", that it made the end of the season feel more like a relief than resolution.
And now to enjoy some writing time while everyone else is preparing for sportball frenzy.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Insecure Writer's Support Group
Since the release of A Broken Race, I've been trying to get involved with more writing groups for support. I've been a long time member of one that I'm comfortable with. However, stepping into several new groups at a time has been a little socially overwhelming for this writing cave dweller. I'm used to running a group, not being part of one. This whole being one of the gang thing is new, and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.
Last night was my second meeting in person with a local group of writers. I've done an in person group for years during NaNoWriMo, but yeah, I've always been in charge. So to go and follow along with someone else's plan for the group, the discussion and all, has been interesting. I can't say that I get a whole lot written during our meetings but the networking part of it has been beneficial.
Part of that networking has been joining various Facebook groups. Again, I've had a writing Facebook group, but now I'm having to explore all the posting rules of all these others ones. It's so much to keep track of. With all this time spent on marketing and networking, how do people find time to write?
Drop by all the other ISWG posts here.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
My Eyes Have Been Busy
After diving into making up my missing words and driving full force forward, my creative juices demanded a little recharge. Not to mention I spent most of the week working out of the office. So it's been a busy week for watching and reading.
We finished the Making a Murderer documentary. And let me just sum this up with: wow. If I tried to write a murder mystery this shoddily, I'd be raked over the coals in critiques, but somehow, this utter farce of a trial flies in real life. Whether the man is guilty or not, and I'm leaning toward not, he shouldn't have been convicted in that trial. And yes, I still fell asleep during every episode, yet managed to keep up with what was going on. Maybe the jury should have taken some naps during the trial.
We blew through the first season of Sense 8. I'd heard good things about this series from a couple friends and was not disappointed. A cluster of eight people all born at the same time who are awakened to each other's minds later in their lives. Hunted by paranoid plain humans who are led by don't-look-him-in-the-eyes-Whispers, they must learn to use each others assets to survive. Yes, there are plot holes and the rules of the whole sense sharing thing are quite sketchy, but the character stories are compelling and binge-watch-worthy.
American Horror Story Hotel wrapped up. After a shaky start wherein I almost didn't start at all for the fact that the cast included Lady Gaga, the plot rose above gore and things that go bump in the night to weave together interesting characters and even threw in a couple twists. The end of the season was my favorite as far as AHS endings go. Yes, everyone dies. They always do, no spoilers there. But I enjoyed how they're plotlines were all pulled together and folded up in a neat pile that would have made the laundress proud.
I read The Red Church by Scott Nicholson. It's been a long time since I've indulged my love for a good scary story. Now that life has calmed down to the point where I can concentrate on written words again, I figured it was high time. And this one was on top of one of my many TBR stacks. If you ever watched the Poltergeist movie and were weirded out by that creepy ass preacher? Yeah, that's the same feeling in this book. Not for the devout Christian, because there's a lot of religious stuff thrown about in these pages. While I enjoyed the interplay between the father and cult-stricken mother, the sheriff who finds love too late and a young boy who had the worst Sunday school teacher ever, the ending felt a little off. The big bad didn't follow through quite enough for my taste, but it was still an enjoyable read.
Yesterday, I stopped by my local bookstore while out picking up bagels, and two books called out to me. Yeah, I read one from my stack and add two more. There might be a problem there... But one was Sherrilyn Kenyon's Son of No One, and if you've been hanging out here, you know this is my book crack. So, uhh, I read that today. I may have gotten up early on a Sunday to read and finished the book by lunch. No, I do not have a paranormal romance reading problem.
And to wrap up the week of distractions, I started watching the Shannara Chronicles. I have not read the books, but my son assured me the series was good. Having reached episode three, I will honestly say I'm really only still there to watch Manu Bennet because: Spartacus. The main characters are probably exciting to younger people, but they're young and keep making stupid mistakes like young people do and they're the chosen ones, and well, that's all I have to say about that.
Not to say I've been neglecting my writing, Book 3 of The Narvan currently sits at 43K and I started reworking a short story for an themed anthology submission. Then to be even more productive, I finally made it to a meeting for the local writing group I joined nearly three months ago. I can't say that the planets will align often as the timing of the meeting doesn't quite jive with my schedule but it was good to finally meet the gang in person.
Onward into another hopefully productive week!
We finished the Making a Murderer documentary. And let me just sum this up with: wow. If I tried to write a murder mystery this shoddily, I'd be raked over the coals in critiques, but somehow, this utter farce of a trial flies in real life. Whether the man is guilty or not, and I'm leaning toward not, he shouldn't have been convicted in that trial. And yes, I still fell asleep during every episode, yet managed to keep up with what was going on. Maybe the jury should have taken some naps during the trial.
We blew through the first season of Sense 8. I'd heard good things about this series from a couple friends and was not disappointed. A cluster of eight people all born at the same time who are awakened to each other's minds later in their lives. Hunted by paranoid plain humans who are led by don't-look-him-in-the-eyes-Whispers, they must learn to use each others assets to survive. Yes, there are plot holes and the rules of the whole sense sharing thing are quite sketchy, but the character stories are compelling and binge-watch-worthy.
American Horror Story Hotel wrapped up. After a shaky start wherein I almost didn't start at all for the fact that the cast included Lady Gaga, the plot rose above gore and things that go bump in the night to weave together interesting characters and even threw in a couple twists. The end of the season was my favorite as far as AHS endings go. Yes, everyone dies. They always do, no spoilers there. But I enjoyed how they're plotlines were all pulled together and folded up in a neat pile that would have made the laundress proud.
I read The Red Church by Scott Nicholson. It's been a long time since I've indulged my love for a good scary story. Now that life has calmed down to the point where I can concentrate on written words again, I figured it was high time. And this one was on top of one of my many TBR stacks. If you ever watched the Poltergeist movie and were weirded out by that creepy ass preacher? Yeah, that's the same feeling in this book. Not for the devout Christian, because there's a lot of religious stuff thrown about in these pages. While I enjoyed the interplay between the father and cult-stricken mother, the sheriff who finds love too late and a young boy who had the worst Sunday school teacher ever, the ending felt a little off. The big bad didn't follow through quite enough for my taste, but it was still an enjoyable read.
Yesterday, I stopped by my local bookstore while out picking up bagels, and two books called out to me. Yeah, I read one from my stack and add two more. There might be a problem there... But one was Sherrilyn Kenyon's Son of No One, and if you've been hanging out here, you know this is my book crack. So, uhh, I read that today. I may have gotten up early on a Sunday to read and finished the book by lunch. No, I do not have a paranormal romance reading problem.
And to wrap up the week of distractions, I started watching the Shannara Chronicles. I have not read the books, but my son assured me the series was good. Having reached episode three, I will honestly say I'm really only still there to watch Manu Bennet because: Spartacus. The main characters are probably exciting to younger people, but they're young and keep making stupid mistakes like young people do and they're the chosen ones, and well, that's all I have to say about that.
Not to say I've been neglecting my writing, Book 3 of The Narvan currently sits at 43K and I started reworking a short story for an themed anthology submission. Then to be even more productive, I finally made it to a meeting for the local writing group I joined nearly three months ago. I can't say that the planets will align often as the timing of the meeting doesn't quite jive with my schedule but it was good to finally meet the gang in person.
Onward into another hopefully productive week!
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
When Productive Turns to Terror
In my last post I mentioned how writing was going so well. I was thrilled with how the book was progressing, excited to work on each new scene, and even snuck away from work several times to jot down a few sentences here and there as they came to me while I was working my day job.
I'd just finished one such little writing break and was gleefully pondering the next scene while working when I noticed a flash of light on my writing computer. Time to reboot and install windows updates. Yes, I have this scheduled. It's supposed to happen at 3am when I'm not in the middle of anything. But apparently the computer gremlins were having a heyday and demanded to do that right now.
I let it finish and reboot and then sat down to reopen my word document so I could type the next few lines I had in my head. Aaaaand, cue the screaming and gnashing of teeth. Not only had word not auto saved ten minutes before as it is set to do, it had no record of the manual saves I'd made over the past entire freaking week. Nor was the save I'd made to my off site drive two days before in existence. No sir, everything I'd poured out all week, all my sparkly words of awesome, had gone poof. Not cool, windows. Not cool.
In the past I've been able to resurrect missing documents from auto recovery files, but alas, there were none because windows doesn't acknowledge that it's random urge to restart might close files you might want to recover. And the restore files feature had never been turned on with this computer or the off site hourly back up - which would have been really damn handy about then.
Thank goodness I'd done a back up to yet another drive a week before. So yay, all was not lost... only about 6K of new words and several chapters of editing.
Ever notice that when you rewrite something it's never quite the same? Though I've since gone through those last couple chapters again, and rewritten all my missing words, they're not the same. Tones have changed and dialogue went in different directions. I'm pretty sure I'm missing a scene but I can't put my finger on what it was. I put the plot back, but it's not as sparkly as it was the first time around.
On a happy note, I'm back to making progress again. I also have my hourly off hard drive backups set up, been manically manually saving, verified that auto save is again functioning, and have vowed to make more frequent secondary backups when I'm in the midst of productive writing.
And I wrote some very sparkly words over the weekend. Okay, they were only sparkly in the sense that that their (rough draft) awesome and I was excited to write them. In reality, the scene was so graphically traumatic, that I ended up giving myself nightmares. Oops.
I'd just finished one such little writing break and was gleefully pondering the next scene while working when I noticed a flash of light on my writing computer. Time to reboot and install windows updates. Yes, I have this scheduled. It's supposed to happen at 3am when I'm not in the middle of anything. But apparently the computer gremlins were having a heyday and demanded to do that right now.
I let it finish and reboot and then sat down to reopen my word document so I could type the next few lines I had in my head. Aaaaand, cue the screaming and gnashing of teeth. Not only had word not auto saved ten minutes before as it is set to do, it had no record of the manual saves I'd made over the past entire freaking week. Nor was the save I'd made to my off site drive two days before in existence. No sir, everything I'd poured out all week, all my sparkly words of awesome, had gone poof. Not cool, windows. Not cool.
In the past I've been able to resurrect missing documents from auto recovery files, but alas, there were none because windows doesn't acknowledge that it's random urge to restart might close files you might want to recover. And the restore files feature had never been turned on with this computer or the off site hourly back up - which would have been really damn handy about then.
Thank goodness I'd done a back up to yet another drive a week before. So yay, all was not lost... only about 6K of new words and several chapters of editing.
Ever notice that when you rewrite something it's never quite the same? Though I've since gone through those last couple chapters again, and rewritten all my missing words, they're not the same. Tones have changed and dialogue went in different directions. I'm pretty sure I'm missing a scene but I can't put my finger on what it was. I put the plot back, but it's not as sparkly as it was the first time around.
On a happy note, I'm back to making progress again. I also have my hourly off hard drive backups set up, been manically manually saving, verified that auto save is again functioning, and have vowed to make more frequent secondary backups when I'm in the midst of productive writing.
And I wrote some very sparkly words over the weekend. Okay, they were only sparkly in the sense that that their (rough draft) awesome and I was excited to write them. In reality, the scene was so graphically traumatic, that I ended up giving myself nightmares. Oops.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Off To A Productive Start
It's a new year...where to begin?
I've been writing! Every day even! It's a wonderful feeling. I love my new chair that helps block out all the aching distractions so I can get lost in words. The third unnamed book in my as of yet unnamed series is sitting at 32K fairly as of today. I went back and took notes and added several new opening chapters until I got the story starting at what feels like the right place. I've got a fairly clean draft now going forward, and I'm loving the story so far.
My daughter is giving me crap about not working on Interface, but I will get back to it, just not right now. I need to stick with one world at a time this deep into the draft.
I have a social life again! I've forgotten what that feels like, to just pop over to the brewery down the road after work, to meet friends for lunch, to have friends over for dinner. All those casual encounters that got shoved aside with an overwhelming workload, building, and settling in. I've even started volunteering at school again. Only for one thing, okay, two, but they are on my own terms and only one is more of a long term after school thing.
With time to write in the morning before work and after work before dinner, I'm more flexible about taking time to watch frivolous TV during and being a couple time. We recently finished watching Orphan Black (clones!) and can't wait for the new season to start. We're currently watching Making A Murderer (with everyone else on my Facebook feed), and while it's interesting, the slow shots of the scenery and soft voices put me to sleep every damn episode. It's like Forensic Files. I love that show, but it also has the voices that lull me to sleep. Maybe murder just makes me tired?
I've been reading too, because that's apparently a thing this year. When resolutions flooded my Facebook feed, reading more seemed to be high on the list. It seems like a good goal, so I figured I'd tag along. Last week I finished Brewed Awakenings I, an anthology featuring some of my local writing friends. My favorite by far was Amy Jo Johnson's, She's My Favorite, which is about...clones. I think I might have a clone fan thing going on. But really, it was a haunting story and I couldn't put it down.
Not only reading and writing and watching, I even managed to squeeze in two critiques! One for a friend and one for a stranger. Getting back into that mindset helped with the cleaning up of the draft I'm working on as well.
We spent Christmas Break trying to squeeze in watching all six episodes of Star Wars because the kids hadn't seen all of them, and we'd never watched them all in order. Then we topped it off with a trip to the newly renovated local theatre featuring all recliner seating (which was so freaking awesome- no heads in front of you, all the foot room you could ask for and comfortable!) and saw the new one in 3-D, because why not? It was probably the best behaved theatre audience I've ever been a part of, and the movie was enjoyable, though I had several snarky comments to save for when we got in the car and that last scene? It just went on too long to the point where I wanted to laugh, but overall, a massive improvement over the prequel casting and acting and script.
Our house is also home to a new cockatiel. My daughter's previous one died, which is a story fraught with things I'd do differently and gritting my teeth. We'll skip that because it makes me angry, and I'm relaxing this year. Let's instead focus on the new one, who is a couple months old and great fun. Pepper makes all kinds of noises and loves hanging out with my daughter. She's also happy to ride around on our shoulders and pick at anything in reach. Today we built a ladder for her so if she happens to land on the floor (her wings are clipped), she can get back up to her cage and out of the reach of the dogs, who think she looks really tasty.
And I'll close out this rambling update with this week's Author's Answer, where we talk about our favorite characters we've created.
I've been writing! Every day even! It's a wonderful feeling. I love my new chair that helps block out all the aching distractions so I can get lost in words. The third unnamed book in my as of yet unnamed series is sitting at 32K fairly as of today. I went back and took notes and added several new opening chapters until I got the story starting at what feels like the right place. I've got a fairly clean draft now going forward, and I'm loving the story so far.
My daughter is giving me crap about not working on Interface, but I will get back to it, just not right now. I need to stick with one world at a time this deep into the draft.
I have a social life again! I've forgotten what that feels like, to just pop over to the brewery down the road after work, to meet friends for lunch, to have friends over for dinner. All those casual encounters that got shoved aside with an overwhelming workload, building, and settling in. I've even started volunteering at school again. Only for one thing, okay, two, but they are on my own terms and only one is more of a long term after school thing.
With time to write in the morning before work and after work before dinner, I'm more flexible about taking time to watch frivolous TV during and being a couple time. We recently finished watching Orphan Black (clones!) and can't wait for the new season to start. We're currently watching Making A Murderer (with everyone else on my Facebook feed), and while it's interesting, the slow shots of the scenery and soft voices put me to sleep every damn episode. It's like Forensic Files. I love that show, but it also has the voices that lull me to sleep. Maybe murder just makes me tired?
I've been reading too, because that's apparently a thing this year. When resolutions flooded my Facebook feed, reading more seemed to be high on the list. It seems like a good goal, so I figured I'd tag along. Last week I finished Brewed Awakenings I, an anthology featuring some of my local writing friends. My favorite by far was Amy Jo Johnson's, She's My Favorite, which is about...clones. I think I might have a clone fan thing going on. But really, it was a haunting story and I couldn't put it down.
Not only reading and writing and watching, I even managed to squeeze in two critiques! One for a friend and one for a stranger. Getting back into that mindset helped with the cleaning up of the draft I'm working on as well.
We spent Christmas Break trying to squeeze in watching all six episodes of Star Wars because the kids hadn't seen all of them, and we'd never watched them all in order. Then we topped it off with a trip to the newly renovated local theatre featuring all recliner seating (which was so freaking awesome- no heads in front of you, all the foot room you could ask for and comfortable!) and saw the new one in 3-D, because why not? It was probably the best behaved theatre audience I've ever been a part of, and the movie was enjoyable, though I had several snarky comments to save for when we got in the car and that last scene? It just went on too long to the point where I wanted to laugh, but overall, a massive improvement over the prequel casting and acting and script.
Our house is also home to a new cockatiel. My daughter's previous one died, which is a story fraught with things I'd do differently and gritting my teeth. We'll skip that because it makes me angry, and I'm relaxing this year. Let's instead focus on the new one, who is a couple months old and great fun. Pepper makes all kinds of noises and loves hanging out with my daughter. She's also happy to ride around on our shoulders and pick at anything in reach. Today we built a ladder for her so if she happens to land on the floor (her wings are clipped), she can get back up to her cage and out of the reach of the dogs, who think she looks really tasty.
And I'll close out this rambling update with this week's Author's Answer, where we talk about our favorite characters we've created.
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