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Dec. 15th, 2005 10:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hawkwing_lbThings I did today:
Finished Thomas Asbridge's The First Crusade
Emptied dryer
Wrote 1000 words of the New Thing, since the Old Thing was being stubborn.
Read Diana Wynne Jones' The Merlin Conspiracy
Ate
Spent entirely too much time on the Internet (when the bill comes due, I am dead)
Things I was supposed to do today:
Empty drier
Write 3500 words of "Dreamdark", aka the Old Thing
Eat
Use gym
One and three got done. Number Four has been delayed until Monday, pending full health. The Ick is determined to hang on.
Two appears to have been displaced. Firmly.
Alright, I confess. My backbrain has got hooked up on Irish urban fantasy. It wants to write Dastardly Deeds in Dublin. Hiyiz, it says to me cheerily in the Dub-est of Dub accents. Howayiz. Ternin' yer back on us s'not goin-a wer-rik. Yiz tried it already.
Yeah, alright, so I'm exaggerating the accent.
Slightly.
I'm blaming it on the film I watched on Monday night. Full of social misfits who were out to do good.
Yeah. No more comic-book adaptation films for you, m'dear. They have an entirely deleterious effect on you!
That's right, blame the film. It's not the film's fault that I'm still writing about rain, though. That one, that's all mine. It hasn't even been raining here lately!
Look:
Orange light from the streetlamps refracted from the slick black asphalt, shattered in the pounding rain. Water soaked through his jacket.
And number two:
Soft rain pattered on bushes and cobblestones. Water dripped from the eaves of the buildings that crowded the townhouse garden, trailing in runnels from overhanging roofs to stream down trellised facades and mingle with the mud that splashed in the gutters. The scents of rain-drenched foliage pervaded the dripping night, for once strong enough to overcome the human reek of Camlan city.
Two different WIPs, and what happens? Rain, that's what. I have rain on the brain.
Goddamn. Right, I'm off to see if I can get at least a fraction of those missing 3500 words before midnight.
Okay, a small fraction. Possibly, with things the way they are, a small damp fraction.
Rain, I cast thee out. Get thee away from me.
No? Okay, then. Be like that.
Finished Thomas Asbridge's The First Crusade
Emptied dryer
Wrote 1000 words of the New Thing, since the Old Thing was being stubborn.
Read Diana Wynne Jones' The Merlin Conspiracy
Ate
Spent entirely too much time on the Internet (when the bill comes due, I am dead)
Things I was supposed to do today:
Empty drier
Write 3500 words of "Dreamdark", aka the Old Thing
Eat
Use gym
One and three got done. Number Four has been delayed until Monday, pending full health. The Ick is determined to hang on.
Two appears to have been displaced. Firmly.
Alright, I confess. My backbrain has got hooked up on Irish urban fantasy. It wants to write Dastardly Deeds in Dublin. Hiyiz, it says to me cheerily in the Dub-est of Dub accents. Howayiz. Ternin' yer back on us s'not goin-a wer-rik. Yiz tried it already.
Yeah, alright, so I'm exaggerating the accent.
Slightly.
I'm blaming it on the film I watched on Monday night. Full of social misfits who were out to do good.
Yeah. No more comic-book adaptation films for you, m'dear. They have an entirely deleterious effect on you!
That's right, blame the film. It's not the film's fault that I'm still writing about rain, though. That one, that's all mine. It hasn't even been raining here lately!
Look:
Orange light from the streetlamps refracted from the slick black asphalt, shattered in the pounding rain. Water soaked through his jacket.
And number two:
Soft rain pattered on bushes and cobblestones. Water dripped from the eaves of the buildings that crowded the townhouse garden, trailing in runnels from overhanging roofs to stream down trellised facades and mingle with the mud that splashed in the gutters. The scents of rain-drenched foliage pervaded the dripping night, for once strong enough to overcome the human reek of Camlan city.
Two different WIPs, and what happens? Rain, that's what. I have rain on the brain.
Goddamn. Right, I'm off to see if I can get at least a fraction of those missing 3500 words before midnight.
Okay, a small fraction. Possibly, with things the way they are, a small damp fraction.
Rain, I cast thee out. Get thee away from me.
No? Okay, then. Be like that.
