What's up at Ravens March.

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Posts Tagged ‘Montblanc’

Salty Viking Talk

Posted by Dirck on 28 August, 2020

As one who is wrestling to absorb a foreign language, a frustration I sometimes feel is the lack of ways to express anger in other than my own language. Since I live in Canada, I have access to Tabernac! from the other side of the country, but I’ve never used it unironically (and I suspect it’s probably somewhat toothless in Quebec these days, too). The only good cuss I’ve got in Dutch is mierenneuker, but it’s not a general-use curse unless you deal with accountants a lot.

Having said that… let’s see how burly Norsemen would have shouted invective at each other while they were viking about.

I was once tempted to call someone a fokker, but realized that accusing him of breeding animals would mystify rather than offend.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer “TM” Triumph
Today’s ink: Montblanc Racing Green

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Posted by Dirck on 18 June, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 15 June
  • 16 June
  • 17 June
  • 18 June
  • Bloody nothing on Monday
  • First draft of “Memorial Garden”
  • 10 manuscript pages.

I think henceforth we might take it was given that Monday’s are unproductive, thanks to the thing I mentioned at the end of last month. It wasn’t an issue last week because, as it was a new thing, I forgot about it entirely until the next day. For the foreseeable future, though, Mondays are going to be opposed to writing.

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Posted by Dirck on 11 June, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 8 June
  • 9 June
  • 10 June
  • 11 June
  • First draft of “Memorial Garden”
  • 2 pages.†

†Two pages? Two?! In a whole week? Well, not really. That’s two pages today, while the rest of the week was spent trying to build up enthusiasm for any of the stories in the idea hopper.

I’m not particularly happy with that. I am absolutely putting it down to work stress; the volume of work has somehow kept rising throughout the COVID period. There’s supposed to be a slack tide in the middle of the month, damn it!

I was also dilatory on my Magic Brain Pills a couple of weeks back, and have perceived maybe not the black dog itself but certainly the smell of its cold, damp fur. A better effort at periodic swallowing since should see the chemistry back where I’d like it.

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Posted by Dirck on 2 June, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 1 June
  • 2 June
  • 3 June
  • 4 June
  • Third draft of “I Will Not Leave You Comfortless”†
  • Submissions.
  • The extended whine below.
  • Three very awkward sentences shown the error of their ways, and some other polishing.
  • The barrel of the launcher grows perilously hot.
  • Yes, I’ve got something to whine about.

‡ A note not about the ink, but about the absence of a link to a profile. My new computer arrived!

Yay!

I still can’t update the site effectively!

Ya… wait, what?

It’s the sort of thing that will rise up like a patch of cursed bog to confront you when you don’t replace your computer for a decade or so. That program you like? The one that you’re very familiar with?

Yes, that’s right. It’s not compatible with the new OS. One of the reasons for that is, as you’ll discover when you go looking, that the company behind the program stopped offering software at some point in the past three years or so, and now make sensor hardware.

This is deeply inconvenient when the program is question is the one that you… or rather I, have been processing all my images through. Cleaning them up, Trying, despite appearances, to get them to be consistent in tone and brightness. Editing out moles and other blemishes on the otherwise smooth skin of my models.

Which means that I have to both find a replacement and figure out it works before I can add yet more images to my image-rich site. And also resist the urge to play World of Warships, which is something the new computer can offer, unlike the previous one. I’m leaning towards something in the GIMP direction, and not just because that’s an unkind nickname I hung on my brother when I was about eight.

† This is a much more satisfactory title than “Ancestral Curse”. Trust me.

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Posted by Dirck on 28 May, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 25 May
  • 26 May
  • 27 May
  • 28 May
  • A new problem†
  • Shaving “Wilden Klausen” to fit a publication it’s thematically perfect for.
  • Getting “Wilden Klausen” off on its way.
  • Catching up on correspondence
  • More than I’d like
  • 131 words removed and a pint of sweat.
  • Bon voyage, monster-filled figment of my imagination!
  • Half of it.

† As we gear up at The Regular Job for post-COVID operations, there’s been some shuffling, and one of the effects this has upon me is taking both barrels in the face of this question: “You don’t mind covering the front desk over lunch, do you?”

It’s not a big deal, but the Selfish Artist trope who is among the multitudes which I contain is grumbling. I still have, technically, the full length of my lunch break, it just doesn’t start until 12:45. However, acting upon that seriously truncates the afternoon. I think I may have mentioned that I am extremely busy with Real Job lately?

This is likely to become less of a problem as we get back to more usual staffing levels (like many, I desperately hope that COVID marks the turn of an epoch, and the world will not simply return to status quo ante, but at a personal level… more people on-site to help with the lifting at Regular Job, please). It’s also not what I’m used to, and that is frequently enough to make a thing onerous.

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What? Again?

Posted by Dirck on 22 May, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 18 May
  • 19 May
  • 20 May
  • 21 May
  • 22 May
  • Slothful Victoria Day Lounging
  • Getting a submission out
  • Second draft of “Ancestral Curse” (working title).
  • Another submission to prep
  • This nonsense, and considering the next submission
  • Buckets of it
  • One Away!
  • 352 typed words, and ready for the next phase.
  • Two Away!
  • Standing by on Tubes 3 and 4!

It’s Victoria Day that did it to me. On a count of straining effort for The Regular Job, instinct insisted yesterday was Wednesday.

And with that out of the way, let me now present today’s educational video– how to live in the future!

It’s 2020. That’s the future. Smartphones exist. FUTURE.

 

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Posted by Dirck on 14 May, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 11 May
  • 12 May
  • 13 May
  • 14 May
  • Second draft of “Ancestral Curse” (working title).
  • 1411 typed words (and that’s with a nap on Tuesday).

 

 

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Posted by Dirck on 5 March, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 2 March
  • 3 March
  • 4 March
  • 5 March
  • Third draft of “Second Impression”.
  • Fourth draft of “Stuckman’s Miracle Men”.
  • Ground to an unlikely 3456 words, and sent to the publication that inspired its creation.
  • Reshaping based on comments from editors who declined it.†

†The lesser reason for doing this a rather long time after getting the third draft into what I thought was final shape is pangs of artistic pride. The greater is that I was in a fever to get MOAR STOREES!!1! written, and since in my head this one had a COMPLETED sign hung over its pigeon-hole, the notion of returning to it usually didn’t strike me at any useful time (he pauses, shirtless, toothbrush in frothy maw, and thinks, “Oh, damn. That. Maybe tomorrow…”). I managed to convince myself that the re-edit was actually the thing that was going to follow getting that Lovecraftish thing (“Filter Feeder” currently, but it may change again).

Yes, I do picture my mind as a vast array of pigeon-holes. All oak and brass, well-loved by its owner, but rather dusty and far from state of the art.

 

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Brave, Clever, Capable

Posted by Dirck on 28 February, 2020

Three words one wished applied to more elected officials in this increasingly bizarre reality we share, yes?

I want to share a vintage film today. There’s a brave, clever, and remarkably capable character in it. I also found a thread of horror in it as I watched. I’ll reveal it below, so see if anyone else felt it.

Before I make the promised revelation, I’m going to deflate some movie magic, although possibly by replacing it with a different sort. The driving portions of the return home were accomplished not by remote control (none of that in 1908), but by the director and father of the child crouching on the floor of the car and working the controls.

No, the dog was not really driving.

But… HOW DID AN ADULT HUMAN FIT DOWN THERE?

That question leads into the horror that passed over me while watching this. Consider the shape of that car. Unenclosed. A mere upholstered bucket. In 1908, you would spend several minutes explaining the concept of “seat belt” even to an aviator. And yet… there’s a very small child propped into the seat, being driven hither and yon, a mere high-spirited lurch away from the pavement.

I don’t know about you, but I need to lie down and collect myself.

Today’s pen: Pilot Metropolitan
Today’s nearly-appropriate ink: Montblanc Racing Green

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Posted by Dirck on 27 February, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 24 February
  • 25 February
  • 26 February
  • 27 February
  • First draft of something for a specifically Lovecraft-inspired call for submissions. Title eludes…
  • 2363 typed words, because there’s a deadline.

 

 

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