What's up at Ravens March.

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Posts Tagged ‘Parker 180’

Posted by Dirck on 4 February, 2021

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 1 February
  • 2 February
  • 3 February
  • 4 February
  • Third draft of “Hobb’s Landing”.
  • Responding to an acceptance of “Wanting Depth”.
  • Less than I could have wished.
  • Exultant squealing, recurrent giddiness– the usual.

I know I promised a story last week, but I’ve run out of time today. Tomorrow? Possibly?

Also, as usual, details regarding publication will appear closer to the date of (although I understand that it’s mere weeks away!).

 

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Fun Guy (after some news)

Posted by Dirck on 29 January, 2021

Oops. I didn’t look in yesterday. Let me first repair the oversight.

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 25 January
  • 26 January
  • 27 January
  • 28 January
  • 29 January
  • Nothing
  • Phone-based game
  • Reading a bit
  • Third draft of “Hobb’s Landing”
  • Updating and foolishness.
  • As much as I could find.
  • A full damn hour.
  • Some pages.
  • Three New Paragraphs!
  • What you see here.

I think I’ve cleared my blockage. Next week will prove that one way or another. There’s a story attached to Monday’s pen, which I’ll try to touch on next week.

And now, because I love weird things that make people question their place in the universe, here’s a common mushroom singing.

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I, For One, Welcome Our New Robot Overlords

Posted by Dirck on 15 January, 2021

I have now and again mentioned the inward tug-of-war I feel between the idea of the future that I absorbed during my childhood (the shiny Space Odyssey/Space:1999 future, not the bleak On The Beach/Soylent Green one) and the experience of living in that future. Yes, Star Trek suggested the 21st century was going to be a little rough, but I’m no more rational than average and I will happily pick and choose the nicer bits of prophecy.

Sometimes the gleeful anticipation side of the equation gets a reward. My phone learns a new and useful trick. I get a functional head-up display for my daily driving.

And there’s stuff like this lumbering about.

It’s not lumbering around anywhere near me, but as William Gibson observed there is uneven distribution of the future. And to be honest, if I’m not in it, I’d prefer it wasn’t nearby.

Today’s pen: Parker 180 (which is, itself, very much the shape of Yesterday’s Future)
Today’s ink: Herbin Poussière de Lune

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New Year’s Dissolutions

Posted by Dirck on 8 January, 2021

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 4 January
  • 5 January
  • 6 January
  • 7 January
  • 8 January
  • Worrying 
  • Probably more than I need to

I am NOT getting enough sleep. I know this because I decided to pack it in at 10:30 New Year’s Eve, having had roughly 15ml of whisky, and rose at 9:00 the next morning. And then the same for the next two nights. Part of it is the effect of the season on melatonin production, I’m sure, but explaining it doesn’t fix it.

There’s also the regime change happening in the wild and lawless country across our southern border. If you’re reading this in the distant future, run a search for 6 January US Capitol Siege. I don’t imagine you’ll have to specify a year. Between that ongoing blitheration and my province’s thumbless handling of COVID, in both the pre-vaccine and vaccine-newly-made phases, it’s not surprising the slumber is shallow and evasive.

I’ve been mentioning over previous entries that I’m having a bit of trouble with the fiction output, and that’s almost certainly down to all of the above. Apart from going to bed shortly after 8:00 as a new habit (and, ideally, politics at all levels having a sudden, lasting undumbening), I don’t really have a good solution.

My not very good solution is to give next week’s writing periods over to updating my site, as I’ve got some new pens that should be given their place of prominence. My previous approach to updates no longer applies, as the idle time offered by The Regular Job has dwindled to nearly nothing, so this seems a good solution. It’s also going to involve scraping words out of my head, without having to (entirely) invent the world they describe, and hopefully that will prime my pump.

I should, since a year ago I was rattling on about depression, mention that the sleepiness is no more than than. The magic brain pills continue to do their work, and while I may do so with a yawn, I am taking joy from the world. I’m fairly anxious to share last Monday’s pen with the world, because its filling mechanism is ridiculous. I have a pen on the way that entirely ate the payment I got for “Palmer’s Folly” because until I’m getting more than a couple of piece published a year, that money is to allow frivolity in my life.

And that’s it for this week. Nothing spooled up in the film department, but I’m sure my pursuit of frivolity on a tight budget will return that feature to our programming line-up soon.

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Posted by Dirck on 31 December, 2020

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 21 December
  • 22 December
  • 23 – 28 December
  • 29 – 31 December
  • Wrestling with submissions.
  • Getting the decks cleared for…
  • Time off at Christmas!
  • Getting Regular Job crap done before the end of the year! 
  • Another one!
  • Sufficient.
  • Authentic de-stressing.†
  • Re-stressing.

† I probably should have posted something during the time away, but the very concepts of time and duty lost all meaning in a bubble-fied nuclear family-only Christmas. The effect on my inward state was such that to apologize for the lapse would be to seem ungrateful.

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Posted by Dirck on 23 April, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 20 April
  • 21 April
  • 22 April
  • 23 April
  • First draft of “Ancestral Curse” (working title).
  • 9 manuscript pages

I can only imagine how much COVID is affecting others, when I, whose life has barely changed as a result of it (still at work, no fear of money running out, family waiting at home at day’s end), am having trouble stringing my entertaining lies onto a thread. I wish you all good health and mental fortitude.

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Posted by Dirck on 16 April, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 13 April
  • 14 April
  • 15 April
  • 16 April
  • First draft of “Ancestral Curse” (working title).
  • 9 manuscript pages

† I hadn’t realized that the pen was so humble that I hadn’t even put together a page for it or its nth tier maker when I pulled it out of storage. I also hadn’t really meant to use this ink again so soon, but when the idea of putting a ridiculously expensive ink (free to me, but still) into a pen so cheap it was affordable during The Great Depression tickled me deeply.

I’ll try to edit in a picture of it later. Like a lot of really cheap pens, the celluloid is quite striking.

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Posted by Dirck on 9 April, 2020

 

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 6 April
  • 7 April
  • 8 April
  • 9 April
  • Not much.†
  • A whole bunch of it.

† It’s definitely the work-exhaustion that’s doing in my writing; I find I’m having to do things that I normally can see to between the regular duties of The Regular Job. Now, since I’m not shoved out of work like so many millions, I don’t want this construed as a complaint… although I am mightly happy that we are facing a long weekend. The prospects for a return to something more like my preferred level of work-effort are not certain, but there may be some relief next week. Mid-month is, generally speaking, slack time. All the same, I don’t feel wrong re-using this:

‡ I got a bottle of this as part of the social contract I perceive to be in place, which suggests that we who still have an income try to support local businesses. My favourite local place for pen and pen-proximate things, Paper Umbrella, has responded to the current plague by setting up a web-store. Locals like me can, on the way to collect vital groceries, pause to have stuff thrust out the door at us. So I did.

Sadly, you won’t see anything about the new ink on my own site, because my computer has finally noticed that it’s very very old and can no longer support running anything except its OS. I’d probable have started a Gofundme to seek the help of well-heeled but charitable folks, if not for the sudden explosion of people who are seeking the same money for more dire purposes– being able to maintain a site like mine is definitely not of the same importance as food and shelter.

I can, I think, manage my tax return without the computer, and because our household income is low, there’s a plague on, and we can expect a big fat rebate of the federal carbon tax, there’s some hope that tax refund can be turned into a new computer. Just like happened eleven years ago. Of course, I wouldn’t say no to a well-heeled passer-by throwing some money at me…

I should mention that I quite like the TWSBI blue-black. It’s only a little darker than Herbin Bleu Nuit, but it plays well on non-great paper, it’s reasonably water resistant, and it has a very inky scent. I’m sure there are some who would call that ink-stink, but I like it. It also comes in a whopping great 70ml bottle which has a plastic inner vessel to allow for low-ink filling, so the bottle will be a keeper even when it’s empty.

Long weekend, so no film tomorrow. I’m going to TRY to get some fiction out of me.

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Posted by Dirck on 14 June, 2018

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 11 June
  • 12 June
  • 13 June
  • 7 June
  • First draft of “Quest for El Dorado” (working title)†
  • 2350 typed words‡

† The working title is because this story is not my own idea. I’m pursuing the Owl Creek Press Short Story Hackathon, which provides opening and closing paragraphs, and I don’t produce titles without a long gestation.  Since this thing has a deadline of 1 July, I’d better sort it out sooner than later.

‡ In the interest of brisk production, I’m stepping outside my usual policy of a hand-written first draft. So far, the deadline is providing sufficient forward momentum that the change isn’t too jarring; one of the reasons for the policy is the prevention of endless fiddling with one troublesome paragraph at the cost of never finishing the damn story. I have a sound historical basis for this policy.

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Posted by Dirck on 7 June, 2018

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 4 June
  • 5 June
  • 6 June
  • 7 June
  • First draft of “Until Regrets Take the Place of Dreams”
  • 27 manuscript pages.

Have you read the entry I made earlier today? You should. It’s far more interesting, and contains time-sensitive material.

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