Five Things Make a Post

Because today is the sort of day that has me running around and screaming with my hair on fire. Well, maybe not that bad. It’s just a day of changes, and human beings are tend not to be big fans of change.

* Chuck Wendig, on ending myths that poison the writer’s life. My favorite part:

Whatever asshole said that thing about work (or genius) being 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration should probably be punched in the face for giving advice that rhymes because, pshhh, c’mon. Rhyming? Really? Still, he’s right. You want to write a book, then learn that the prevailing feeling is one of frustration. In writing a novel you will feel wayward and weird just as often as you feel energized and excited. Your book does not thrive on inspiration. Your book is born only of work.

Your book thrives on your ass finishing the job.

Stop chasing that dragon.

You do not work for the Muse. She works for you. Chain her to the pole and make her dance. (Chuck Wendig)

* Cooks Source gave a sort of halfass apology. John Scalzi gave the apology a D+, and I agree.

* I’m going to get gross for a second. I’m having nosebleeds at the ends of my six-mile runs. WTF? It’s not dry air–this is the Pacific Northwest. You can grow mushrooms between your toes. It also isn’t low iron–at least, it shouldn’t be, what with the supplements I’m taking. Anyone out there ever had anything like this?

* I need to stop burning vanilla-caramel candles, even though I love them. They make me very hungry for cake or cookies. Hopefully the mint chocolate candle will be better. (I am not thinking it will be, though.) On the good side, taking a deep breath and thinking about cake is a nice thing. And while I’m putting together a short story structure inside my head, cake is far from the worst random thought to have.

* An unknown missile launch off the coast of California. As in, seriously, we don’t know what the hell is going on, or we’re saying we don’t. This distresses me a little, for obvious reasons. (ETA: Might just be a contrail. Thanks, Pyris!)

Anyway, that’s five for today. Now I’m going to pull up my comfy socks, grab another coffee-and-caramel-Baileys, and get serious.

Over and out.

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.

Book almost done. Send bazooka.

Can’t talk. Busy with apocalypse. Tune in tomorrow (at least, I hope) for the next installment of the Saga of Squirrel!Neo, in which we learn that squirrels are crack shots with teensy pinecones. And where Mercutio!Jay saves me from myself like a true feathered gentleman. Also, the appearance of Romeo!Jay.

Back later…

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.

Why Yes, I Am Always This Driven

I was fine until about 10:30 last night, when my stomach decided it’d had enough of hosting dinner and muscled everything out like an irritated bouncer. I’d call it food poisoning, but nobody else shows any symptoms; I’d call it a bug but I have no other symptoms; I’d call it stress but I’m remarkably unstressed for once, having had all the locks replaced and deadbolts put in. Maybe it was the release of stress, and finally feeling completely safe again?

I don’t know. I’ve officially thrown up my hands (when they’re not crossed protectively over my aching middle) and decided to just treat my stomach gently, and devil take the rest.

This didn’t stop me from my first five-mile run this morning. I got on the treadmill determined to only run as long as it felt OK, and to stop at the first twinge of not-really-all-right. Five miles later, I forced myself to stop, but my stomach kept running, revolving like a bus wheel. It just felt so good to burn everything off and keep moving, really. The only problem was when I stopped. And I do seem to have largely sweated out whatever-it-was.

I’m sure you all wanted to hear about the state of my belly. So I’ll just tell you that I’m working (between naps) on proofs for TAKEN today, as well as getting an amnesiac heroine in another lead-spraying fight, and shuffle off stage left, muttering. I had big dreams of walking down to the corner grocery for pesto today, but it looks like that’s not going to happen. It’s eleven AM and I’m beat.

See you around.

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.

Anxiety Ruffles And Singing Weird

I had one of the weirdest anxiety dreams I’ve ever had last night. In it, I ate a whole king-size bag of crisps (Ruffles, for those of you wondering, the really thick ones) while looking for my car. I kept pressing a little button on my key fob that would make the car chirp so I could find it, and each time it chirped it was in a different direction. I finished the whole damn bag of crisps, found the car, and woke up feeling sick and sweaty because I’d been sleeping over a pillow.

Yeah, that’s pretty much how this entire day’s been going. It’s been weird from one end to the other, and I’m running out of time on this blog post too. You know how long it’s been up in a window? About six hours now, and counting.

So, is Mercury retrograde or something? Because the weirdness factor, OMG.

All right. Off I go. Wish me some normal soon. I mean, weird’s pretty much comfortable for me right now…but I’ve got the singing willies, you know, and I’d like them to quiet down so I can get some real work done.

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.

Hyperactive Monkey Day

I’ve been amazingly productive–the second draft of Defiance is now resting with the editor, and I’m doing cleanup on the 5th Dru book and getting wordcount in on Jill Kismet, flipping back and forth like a hyperactive monkey. Plus I’ve upped my mileage, cleaned the kitchen, and picked up a few things that will make living in this house easier. All before 2pm.

Either I am going to set a new personal record for Most Things Accomplished In Twelve Hours, or I’m going to hit the slump between 3-4PM and suddenly find myself on the couch, drooling, with absolutely no energy left to do anything.

But while I’ve got it, I’m heading for the horizon. And what’s that in my inbox? Oh, look. An invitation to more work.

The Universe is being kind to me today. *snort*

Cover me, I’m going in.

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.

Monday Five

Five things this Monday morning!

1. I know I’m supposed to give my body a day off to rest and repair itself. The trouble is, I’ve grown to need my daily running fix, and I get cranky if I don’t have it. Yesterday was my rest day. I woke up angry this morning, bounced through my morning run, and hit the climbing wall. That anger is great fuel, but I don’t like it. I have a healthy fear of the destructive power of my own rage. Thankfully, now that I’ve sweated and hauled myself around like a piece of baggage (seriously, I threw myself at the wall today, it was epic) I am reasonably serene. Now I just need to settle down and steady myself for the task at hand.

2. I had this urge to get a CD playing thunderstorm sounds. So I’ve been playing this since Sunday. What the Muse wants, the Muse gets, and I’m apparently needing to hear thunder and rain. At least the Muse isn’t requiring Eddie Rabbit. You know, I used to have Alvin and the Chipmunks doing I Love A Rainy Night on vinyl. I’m old-skool, yo.

3. I knew, when I walked away from my email this weekend, that I would rue it come Monday morning. *glances at inboxes, weeps* I suppose it’s better than coming back to dead silence…but still.

4. Today’s Girl Genius made me about pee myself laughing. This webcomic saved my life about eight months ago, and it continues to throw in a chuckle or two every week. Nicely done, Agatha and crew!

5. I really need to write some fight scenes. Or, more precisely, I need to go out to the heavy bag and work it a little to get some fight scenes clear in my head. I’m in the mood for writing some old-fashioned fisticuffs. In a bar. Or something. Hey, it’s better than actual fisticuffs in a bar, right?

That’s it, the Monday five. Welcome to my brain this afternoon. It’s a weird place to be.

Over and out…

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.

Slow And Steady

Wow. Are we really just a week and change away from the Jealousy release? How time flies. Seriously, it seems like just a couple weeks ago I was finishing the first book in the series and gnashing my teeth wondering if I could pull the second one off the way I wanted to.

It’s a gray morning, and there’s a lot of work ahead of me. Which is the way I like it, and the way I like it. I like summer just fine, but the 90-100+ weather we had last year really put a dent in me. A nice cloudy morning and a sunny afternoon is just about perfect, and my garden agrees.

So, today there’s an essay to put the finishing touches on, one book to do a final revision pass on, another book to start the revision letter of a first draft on, and all-new wordcount on yet another book to grind out…you know, when I list it like that, it sounds almost doable.

Not long ago, at the Night of Powell’s Pwnage, someone asked how working writers prioritize the different tasks. I believe it was Devon Monk who first laughed and said, “Pure panic.” Which we all agreed with. There’s a certain component of triage any time you have more than one iron in the fire.

Anyway, off I go to get started. My stomach feels a little bruised and tender, and I’m pretty tired from one of the more, shall we say, exciting nights I’ve had in a while (the verdict is a mild stomach flu, not food poisoning, thank goodness) and I can’t seem to take in enough caffeine for my eyelids to prop themselves consistently wide enough. It’s a day for making a list and getting everything done in very small chunks.

Wish me luck.

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.