Recharge

Manuscript Dawn, again. The cavies are burbling softly. It’s kind of nice having them in the office, even if they’re weird little rodent critters. Still, since I’ve taken over caring for them (yes, I know, look, the kid was eleven, of COURSE he thought cavies were a fine idea and promised to care for them) I find myself sort of happy they’re not incredibly long-lived. It’ll be nice to have that entire third of my office back. And, well, they’re rodents. At least they don’t have those naked, loathsome tails. *shudder*

I believe it was Orwell’s Room 101 that sealed my dislike of rats into shuddering loathing. The first time I read that scene, I had nightmares for a solid week. By that time I was so completely emotionally invested in Winston Smith I half fancied I would develop a varicose ulcer. I was, I think, thirteen? Ever since then, rats and mice have been suspect. I remember having great difficulty watching The Secret of NIMH afterward, too.

One of the things about writing for a living is that I don’t fall into books as I used to. Some of that is merely a function of the sheer amount of reading I’ve done by now–there’s that golden time when one uncritically swallows books whole, and that vast mass is only digested later in one’s life. I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would; I read for other things nowadays. I think the last book that had me completely absorbed was a reread of Kerr’s Prague Fatale; I love me some Bernie Gunther. Oh, wait, there was a Shannon McKenna, too–she just keeps upping the ante with crazy, and I like that about her books.

I also just don’t read as much fiction as I used to. Unless there’s a certain level of craft and engagement, I find myself reading as if I’m going to edit, or “looking under the hood” to see why the author made the choices they did. Nonfiction is much more relaxing, I just shake my head over glaring typos instead of reaching for a red pen.

Today is for settling in the office and writing all day. I was going to go out to get a prescription, but it’s a postal holiday. Besides, I’ve had so much social interaction over the last four or five days I find myself twitching, and wanting a nice chunk or two of solitude to recharge.

Plus, I still need to get this fight in the goblin market done.

Over and out…

photo by: Muffet
  • OrdoExtraho

    yes that would take some work anyone entering an area filled with vile little creatures all carrying blades as long as their arms and begging for your trust like a second hand car dealer while all the time pawing at you with those over sized hands not only to direct your attention to their goods and theirs alone but also to pilfer anything that isn’t attached to your person oh and if I hear one more statement of false humility and “the customers is a always right” or how these deals are going to send him home with nothing to feed his several hundred children with well in short there is one benefit of a goblin market and one downside benefit now rats or mice to be seen anywhere if it breathes and is not caged than you can buy it for a couple of copper the downside if you expect to leave the market alive and quite wholly intact including ones purse than you are either insane, desperate or far to good with a knife to be of a upstanding nature

    well any way good luck with the scene and have a nice day

  • OrdoExtraho

    I did mean to mention the rats as an edible sort of purchase

  • martianmooncrab

    And, well, they’re rodents. At least they don’t have those naked, loathsome tails. *shudder*

    Holds up my cat.. yeah, what a freaky tail for a feline…