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Posts Tagged ‘Sheaffer Sovereign’

Case of the Mysterious Spoon Thief

Posted by Dirck on 1 November, 2019

I hope everyone is having a happy Fountain Pen Day. First Friday in November, right? A big event, for people like me.

It kind of snuck up on me. I’ve been at my silly Inktober exercise (which I have decided in an act of vicious ret-conning is an excuse to not participate in NaNoWriMo), but when I realized what today was, my reaction was something like this:

I should get something really splendid out and fill it up. But… I’d have to look back in the blog and see what I had used. And then go all the way down a single flight of stairs to get it out of storage. God, and then it would join all those others that need cleaning. Poo. Too much effort. Let’s just go with this not-yet-empty thing.

Which is slightly alarming, coming from me. Well, it turns out that an inclination to depression which I’ve been nuturing since… oh, about 1992… has finally borne fruit.

You’ve heard the spoon metaphor, I imagine– a person with a fatiguing disability has a set number of spoons to dig through the day’s activities, and once those spoons are used up, that’s it for the day’s activities, regardless of whether they’re onerous or delightful (go to movie with friend and clean toilet are equal demands upon the spoon drawer; indeed, the former may be a two-spoon affair). Well, I have come to realize that someone has been making off with my spoons, and it’s finally at a point where I need to get some outside assistance with it.

I suspect my recent decision to pull back from repairs is also founded in this development. If I’d realized it at the time, I’d probably be happier (ho ho, a joke about depression!) now.

But, realization has dawned at last, and calls are being made. I am lucky, in that I live in Canada and have an employer who has some resources to throw at this kind of problem, so all it took was noticing there was a problem… and then carefully building one extra spoon out paper clips and tape to actually act upon the realization. Because I actually knew I should be doing something about a week ago, but figuring out what that something was required, oh, poo, it’s too much effort and so on.

Anyway. Here we are. Not yet, quite, getting help, but listening to the mechanism for getting help running its motor up. And that in itself is helping.

For those who are right now wondering how many spoons I’ve squandered on this little screed, never mind the whole enormous pile of stories over the past month— it turns out that, at least in my case, writing is no more than tiny souvenir teaspoons of effort. Perhaps it even uses forks instead. I could to a lot of this and not affect the useful spoon count. Another thing I’m grateful for.

Today’s pen, which is very nice and a perfectly adequate Fountain Pen Day observance: Sheaffer Sovereign II
Today’s ink, the maker of which claims to be an avatar of Fountain Pen-ness, so of course it’s right for the day: Montblanc Royal Blue

PS – I suggested yesterday that this would be the usual progess report. Well, I decided to do this instead. That’s not a metaphorical spoons thing, that’s just a question of available time.

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The Light Grows Dim

Posted by Dirck on 18 October, 2019

That’s a rather grim title.

Well, of course, because Hallowe’en is slowly winding us in its coils, preparing to give us all a big thematic hug! HOORAH!

It is, too, the time of year when a lot of creatures start looking for places to stay warm, so be careful what you turn over when you’re out raking the leaves…

In fact, I try to leave the leaves alone entirely. It’s how you get a bonanza of ladybugs in the spring!

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Sovereign II
Today’s ink: Montblanc Royal Blue

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Posted by Dirck on 3 October, 2019

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 30 September
  • 1 October
  • 2 October
  • 3 October
  • Three stories… so far.

As I explain over there, I’m squandering my writing time this month on a misappropriation of Inktober– the eagle-eyed here will have seen the notices advancing down the left-hand sidebar. Daily stories, all month long! EVEN WEEKENDS!

And I got so busy at that, I am rather late posting this.

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Posted by Dirck on 21 June, 2018

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 18 June
  • 19 June
  • 20 June
  • 21 June
  • First draft of “Quest for El Dorado” (which I must settle on the true name of, as it’s just shy of done).
  • 1,801 typed words.

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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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Convention? Coven? Who Can Tell?

Posted by Dirck on 8 June, 2018

In my best Professor Farnsworth voice: Good news, everyone!

The wand mentioned two entries back has been waved, and there will a Pelikan Hub in what many people would call the middle of nowhere.  We who live here know better, though.  We’re slightly north-east of the geographical centre of North American nowhere.

ANYWAY, for today’s film, I’m just providing a link to an item our national broadcasting service, CBC, aired last week, which gives a sense of the sort of thing that goes one went you get a sufficient quantity of pen-fanciers hemmed into a closed space. No video, and you’ll have to scroll down a little to find the button that launches the audio.

It’s nice. But then, so are we generally (both Canadians and pen-folks).

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Sovereign II
Today’s ink: Herbin Bleu Myosotis

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Posted by Dirck on 24 May, 2018

Day What How Much Pen Ink
  • 21 May
  • 22 May
  • 23 May
  • 24 May
  • Terrified obeisance to the spectre of Queen Victoria
  • First draft of “No Easy Way Out”
  • Third draft of “Stuckman’s Miracle Men”
  • Dig Two Graves
  • Second draft of “No Easy Way Out”
  • Lawn mowed (she’s not that bad, really)
  • 2 manuscript pages.
  • That which was needed
  • 1100 words banged out and posted
  • 1983 words typed, and done.

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Posted by Dirck on 8 February, 2018

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  •  2,691 words typed.

As a small indication of the sort of time I’ve been enjoying the last couple of weeks; I only just now noticed that the thing I had meant to post last Friday… isn’t. Isn’t up. Isn’t around. Isn’t available. I put the effort into writing one, but there is no trace of it whatsoever. This gives me a slight headstart on tomorrow, since I have a memory of what it was, but to not have noticed at all AND to have it vanish is disconcerting.

I will not put this down to the Mandela effect, as much fun as side-slipping through the multiverse might be, but simply to my own stress-cracked brain. To address this issue, I’m taking next week off from The Regular Job. This may see a dose of writing done, since my son will be in school and he’s the main impediment to writing at home (I love him, and he loves me; his manifests as “you must watch this Annoying Orange video with me again” and mine manifests as submission to that insistence).  However, I may also just sleep for 127 hours without a break, too.  We’ll see how that works out.

One of the minor positive elements to not having sold the novel to anyone yet, nor secured an agent; no deadline.

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Posted by Dirck on 1 February, 2018

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  •  2,737 words typed.

You might think, with that relatively high word count, I’d be a happy fellow.

Hey, look, I’m using foreshadowing, like a writer.

It has, by most other metrics, been a fairly abominable week… and a bit.  I’m not going to share the whole sad yarn, but one form of woe which came to the house lately I will offer here, because it’s a kind which I have shared previously.  We have lost yet another cat.  This time, at least, it’s a loss which we saw coming, because unlike so many of the others, this chap lived to the sort of age we expect a cat to last to.  He was the child of she who passed from us eight years back (good heavens, but haven’t I been at this while?), and was creeping stealthily toward his nineteenth birthday.  Alas, like so many desirable prey will, it seems to have noticed him stalking it, and fled away.

He made a pretty good hunt of it, though.  Farewell to Oberon, then.

And because he was adopted by the wrong sort of people, his full name was Oberon Kenobi.

Our sole survivor, Hercule, is as bereft as you might expect from looking at this. Once we’ve cleaned up the place a little, we’ll be seeking new companions for him.

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Posted by Dirck on 25 January, 2018

 

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  •  1,825 words typed.

Yesterday saw my writing time somewhat taken up by a surprise concert given by the Migraine Tabernacle Choir. This makes me cry “Tabernac!” in the mode of my compatriots from Quebec, because the going on this current patch has been slow enough. I had really thought I’d be through the depths of re-arrangement by this time, but it looks like the slog will continue for a day or two more.

Thank the diverse gods of writerly inspiration that the result is, hoorah, markedly better than the first draft.

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