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It has been an exceptional weekend -- so much so that I have to do an e-mail entry while plaintively waiting for Livejournal's troubles to be resolved. I apologize for any errors in the text of this message, but there's a cat sprawled across my chest, sleeping, as I write. Still, I am driven to put digital pen to paper.
It has been an interesting week. Car trouble on Saturday turned into a lot of money spent on Monday, only to not have the trouble resolved, and a surrender Monday afternoon. After dumping hundreds into the first attempt to have the car fixed, it would take nearly a thousand to get it back on the road -- if it worked that time.
It simply isn't worth it. It's a 1993 Honda Accord. It's served well, my parents first, and then me. It's time it rest.
Which meant it was time for a new car. After securing (well, sort of) financing from my Credit Union on Tuesday, I confidently went to Autofair Honda on Wednesday. I test drove a truly wonderful 1999 Honda Civic EX (a top of the line -- it's a gorgeous car), and decided to buy. This followed some exceptionally tense discussions with the credit union, who reneged on what they said. But, it worked out, more or less. I left with the car that day on a promissory note, with an assurance that the check would come by Friday, and I could drive it down to Autofair Honda on Saturday.
Well, the check came on Saturday (by courier), which works out. I drove it down to Manchester. I then had some lunch (chili -- chili is a safe choice, so long as it's not too hot), and felt kind of tired. But, I didn't really want to go home just yet, so I decided to test out my GPS (not automobile mounted -- I have a Garmin iQue 3600 from the beginning of the year -- it's a sweet sweet piece of equipment) but having it take me to my favorite Cafe, in Dover. As I drove, I thought about magic realism and fantasy, having read a bunch of Hitherby Dragons earlier in the day. It's a potent drug, of course. So, though I was tired, I decided I'd get a cup of coffee and plug away at the beginning of a story I'd been thinking of while I drove.
Eight hours later, I staggered out of the cafe, having written over seven thousand words. Seven thousand, in one sitting. And that doesn't even count the time I was interrupted by an odd, twitching man who talked to me for twenty minutes about Korean sex trafficking, his friends in the government, and his plans to bring WiFi to the cafe, before he wandered out.
Today, I got up bright an early, did some chores here at home, and then went back. I wrote another four thousand words, which finished it. Too long, but I had decided to write until it was done, and then revise. I did two revisions, cutting it down to about 8,400 words.
It's called "Automotive Care," and it features business and a Russian Steppes form of Shamanism. It's on my writing page. It's really quite good. I hope you all read it. (If you don't have instructions and the password to my writing page, let me know and I'll send it along). In a couple of days, after I do a close proofread and a final revision, it's going out to Fantasy and Science Fiction.
It was incredible. Words just flying out of me. I felt like a 20 year old again. I felt empowered -- alive! I write! I write because I love it. I write because I need to write. I put together words in patterns no one ever has before, and I breathe life into characters, if just for a little while.
It is wonderful. It is addicting. It keeps me sane. Figurehead Todd is far, far away when I'm writing. No one but I can write the stories in my head. And when someone reads what I've written, for a few brief moments I am speaking to their souls. They take the paints I have spread into my stories, and they use them to illustrate it anew.
I write, and everything is okay, for a little while.
Please read the story. Let it live in you, just for a little while. I hope you like it.
I write. I am a writer. And that makes things okay.
It has been an interesting week. Car trouble on Saturday turned into a lot of money spent on Monday, only to not have the trouble resolved, and a surrender Monday afternoon. After dumping hundreds into the first attempt to have the car fixed, it would take nearly a thousand to get it back on the road -- if it worked that time.
It simply isn't worth it. It's a 1993 Honda Accord. It's served well, my parents first, and then me. It's time it rest.
Which meant it was time for a new car. After securing (well, sort of) financing from my Credit Union on Tuesday, I confidently went to Autofair Honda on Wednesday. I test drove a truly wonderful 1999 Honda Civic EX (a top of the line -- it's a gorgeous car), and decided to buy. This followed some exceptionally tense discussions with the credit union, who reneged on what they said. But, it worked out, more or less. I left with the car that day on a promissory note, with an assurance that the check would come by Friday, and I could drive it down to Autofair Honda on Saturday.
Well, the check came on Saturday (by courier), which works out. I drove it down to Manchester. I then had some lunch (chili -- chili is a safe choice, so long as it's not too hot), and felt kind of tired. But, I didn't really want to go home just yet, so I decided to test out my GPS (not automobile mounted -- I have a Garmin iQue 3600 from the beginning of the year -- it's a sweet sweet piece of equipment) but having it take me to my favorite Cafe, in Dover. As I drove, I thought about magic realism and fantasy, having read a bunch of Hitherby Dragons earlier in the day. It's a potent drug, of course. So, though I was tired, I decided I'd get a cup of coffee and plug away at the beginning of a story I'd been thinking of while I drove.
Eight hours later, I staggered out of the cafe, having written over seven thousand words. Seven thousand, in one sitting. And that doesn't even count the time I was interrupted by an odd, twitching man who talked to me for twenty minutes about Korean sex trafficking, his friends in the government, and his plans to bring WiFi to the cafe, before he wandered out.
Today, I got up bright an early, did some chores here at home, and then went back. I wrote another four thousand words, which finished it. Too long, but I had decided to write until it was done, and then revise. I did two revisions, cutting it down to about 8,400 words.
It's called "Automotive Care," and it features business and a Russian Steppes form of Shamanism. It's on my writing page. It's really quite good. I hope you all read it. (If you don't have instructions and the password to my writing page, let me know and I'll send it along). In a couple of days, after I do a close proofread and a final revision, it's going out to Fantasy and Science Fiction.
It was incredible. Words just flying out of me. I felt like a 20 year old again. I felt empowered -- alive! I write! I write because I love it. I write because I need to write. I put together words in patterns no one ever has before, and I breathe life into characters, if just for a little while.
It is wonderful. It is addicting. It keeps me sane. Figurehead Todd is far, far away when I'm writing. No one but I can write the stories in my head. And when someone reads what I've written, for a few brief moments I am speaking to their souls. They take the paints I have spread into my stories, and they use them to illustrate it anew.
I write, and everything is okay, for a little while.
Please read the story. Let it live in you, just for a little while. I hope you like it.
I write. I am a writer. And that makes things okay.
