That’s an alarmingly low page-count for this week, which is down to an unexpected office celebratory lunch. Free lunch, yes, but not only did it cost me a day’s efforts, it made me rather ill so yesterday was not very productive either. Boo.
However, if my page/word ratios are right, I’m now above 25,000 words, or 100 typed pages. For something that only gets poked at over lunch-hours, that’s coming along reasonably well.
As a gentle distraction from the flaming horror of what’s happening in Washington DC today, here’s four nice people showing how letter-writing in a group setting can look. International Correspondence Writing Month is just around the corner, after all, and those with the free time to pursue it should start loosening up their joints.
A joyful… more or less… realization on Tuesday, that the point-of-view of the novel wasn’t quite where it should be. This will make extra work on the second draft (thus “or less”), but it also mean some elements that have been a drag-inducing burden to the narrative can be more easily handled and I should be able to skip along a little more briskly henceforth.
I’m also faced with a couple of other projects that might distract me from this hoped-for brisk skipping; there’s a call from weird stories which also examine the effects of colonization in the Victorian era, and my wife is urging me to convert something to a screenplay for a local competition. Egad.
I don’t usually poke “Press This”, but I wanted to add my own tiny bandwidth to this useful post. Go thou and read it, and be thus enlightened:
6 (More) Reasons Why You Should Write With a Fountain Pen You all really, REALLY liked the “8 Reasons Why You Should Write With A Fountain Pen” article. Since publishing, it’s bee…
Alas, not an option for either of my current problems. Fire applied to the novel will only make more work for me unless it’s part of an admission of abject failure… which frankly on Monday was an enticing path but which I’ve gotten over since. The novel is less of a problem than a challenge, anyway, and setting fire to a challenge is weak.
The other current problem is winter. If I had enough fire to deal with it and its week of -30C mornings, I would have entirely different and more pressing problems (and so would you, however far from me you are). However, after a week of that sort of unpleasantly bracing starts to the day, I am happy to watch some people take chainsaws to winter, or at least some of its manifestations.
This may well be a repeat performance, and I find I don’t particularly care. The first Friday of the new year gets a forward-looking and hopeful film, even if I had to dredge 1955 to get it.
A minor disaster has occurred for me on the mechanical side of the writing. I managed to jostle my book at the end at yesterday’s writing session, causing a Rube Goldberg cascade which threw my fiction pen to the floor. This was not the Sailor, but my well-loved Touchdown Valiant, and it now has a small crack opened up at the rear of the barrel which defeats filling. I’ll take it away for repairs, but I think I’ll rotate something else in so I don’t feel like I have to rush the repaired pen back into service before the solvent-weld has a chance to knit properly. Probably a slightly older Sovereign II, which has very similar writing properties. I am somewhat low in my spirits about this accident, though– I love my pens nearly like children, and to have injured one through my own clumsiness stings.