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Posts Tagged ‘Sheaffer Targa’

Unpaid Advertising

Posted by Dirck on 1 December, 2017

I won’t try to claim that this is anything other than an ad while tries to get you to buy something.  It it, at least, a something with a lot of hand-crafting involved.

I don’t even have one (largely because that amount of human labour puts the brand beyond my means), but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the artisty.

Today’s slightly more pedestrian pen: Sheaffer Targa
Today’s ink, suited to pens of all degree, however grand or humble: Skrip Black

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Posted by Dirck on 23 November, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 2992 words typed

 

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Posted by Dirck on 16 November, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 2125 words typed (long weekend)

Also, here’s a thing that happened this week:

Which is encouraging in two contradictory ways.  The first is obvious enough– oh boy, halfway done!

But… am I, really?  Remember, the gauge is based on an estimate of the word count based on a comparison of previous projects’ first draft page counts to final word counts.  “Estimate” can be accurate, or not.  So, let me run something by you.  When I finished the most recent bout of typing, I closed my manuscript and held a ruler up to it.  When gently compressed, it is a stack of paper roughly 3 cm tall.  The sticky-note which indicates where I left off is about 1 cm from the top.

…so I may be more in the order of 33% finished.  Which is great in terms of what the final word count may be; possibly as much as 100,000, a much more genre-appropriate weight (in as much as this thing fits a genre– closest to horror, although… have I mentioned this?… there is a tendril extending into the camp of detective fiction).  Wonderful!  Fantastic!

Those who know my capacity for dashing cold water on my own head will already have noticed the other hand presented by this second encouragement, though– I have been speaking of an estimated finishing date sometime in the first half of February.

Estimated.

It begins to look as if I’m in for a longer haul….

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Posted by Dirck on 9 November, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 2,297 words typed

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Posted by Dirck on 26 October, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 3,111 words typed

A small item of note this week:

Yes, that cat is startled that I’ve passed the hundred-page mark in my efforts, as am I.  I’m also fairly pleased that this falls at the point I’m at in the story, because it means that I am very likely to end up with a longer word-count than the first-draft projections indicated.  And that means that I won’t be devastated when I am told by an editor that great dripping chunks of it have to go, because even with necessary surgical reduction it won’t be reduced to something too small for a publisher to consider.  I hope.

Also, about that cat– the image is a tiny segment of a seasonal desktop wallpaper offered by the artistic genius whose serialized works appear here.  She offered it to her Patreon supporters, so if you want to see the whole wonderful thing you’ll have to consider supporting an artist.

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The Only Good Thing About Autumn

Posted by Dirck on 20 October, 2017

The days grow short and cold, the nights grow long and colder.  The trees disrobe and the birds flee.  The promise of the great destroying season is in the air.  Heating bills wax fat and ridiculous.  Autumn is, in the vestments of gold and scarlet it creeps in on, the herald of an profoundly uncomfortable portion of the year, and I cannot welcome it.

Except for one saving grace.  For all that is wrong with it, autumn carries in its gaunt belly the darkly radiant egg of Hallowe’en.

Just imagine what I’ll be like next week.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Targa
Today’s ink: Pelikan Violet

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Posted by Dirck on 12 October, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 793 words typed

That’s a pretty weak showing for the week. Let me explain, and perhaps even justify.  Monday was Thanksgiving up here in the Great White North, and that meant I was paddling about the house doing important house stuff prior to heading to my in-laws’ place for the traditional attempt to eat enough to last out the whole winter.  And that meant no writing.

But wait!  There’s more!  Today, indeed even as this entry is being posted by cool and unsympathetic electronic hands, I am off to see my doctor.  You may remember that in December and then again in April I mentioned having wrenched the crap out of my knee.  Up until the last week of September, I would have told you that I was pretty much recovered from this.  Mid-way through that week, for absolutely no reason I could notice, the knee was all inflamed and painful again; no new acrobatics, no attempted heroics, not even inclement weather.  That became the point at which I allowed common sense to overcome self-destructive idiotic laziness; I made an appointment to have it looked at.

Given the intermittent use of Canada’s handling of health-care in the debate over how things might be re-arranged in the US, I’m going to talk about this astonishing delay for a moment. I will admit that the distance between making the appointment and its arrival is somewhat inconvenient, although the leg is back to being merely somewhat sore.  However, I don’t want anyone to point at this and shout, “There!  See the horrible toll TEH SOCIALIZISMS takes on those poor benighted fools in Canada!” Here’s my take on this delay–

First of all, my doctor is quite good, popular and getting to be of an age where he wants to work less than five days a week; this makes for a full calendar.  Given that the most recent injury was five months ago, I can hardly call this an emergency, and even if I did call it an emergency, it’s not an Emergency Room emergency.  I could have, if moved by relentless agony, have sat for a couple of hours in any one of a number of open clinics around the city, and have my problem seen to by a competent if unfamiliar doctor (and thus left the emergency room less burdened by dummies like me and able to concentrate on people in authentic serious emergency trouble).  The delay is the price I pay for insisting on seeing the doctor I have chosen… which we can do here in Canada, honest.

Importantly, whether I wait several hours in an ER (because triage would put me waaaaay down the list of people needing attention), a couple of hours at a clinic, or a couple of weeks while the line of many satisfied patients my doctor enjoys cycles through to me, I am not paying for it.  Yes, I am paying for it through taxes, and that’s fine with me, because I’d be paying taxes anyway, and at about the same rate if I lived in neighbouring North Dakota, the same way I’m paying for police and fire departments and all that other stuff that people forget about when they complain about taxes.  However, my experience today will include no billing– I enter, I am probed, I get medical advice on my physical state, I leave and that’s that.  If I am sent for x-rays, same deal, but with extra radiation.  If the doctor tells me to come back in a month to see how I’m getting on, then it’s the same deal again.  If I have to start a long series of treatments because he notices I have a powerful and long-simmering case of The Spon Plague, then it’s still the same deal.  Watch as carefully as you like, as no time will my wallet leave my pocket.

I think that’s a pretty good deal, and certainly worth the .  I don’t know why people in the US resist it so fiercely (other than that they’ve been convinced by the people who make money off their system that it’s the only way to roll).

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Happy Birthday, Dear Spheroid

Posted by Dirck on 6 October, 2017

I’m a couple of days late on this, I know, but this week marks the sixtieth anniversary of the proof that “What goes up must come down” has a caveat which reads “…unless you can throw really, really hard.”

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Targa
Today’s ink: Pelikan Violet

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Posted by Dirck on 28 September, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 3,408 words typed

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Posted by Dirck on 21 September, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 2,997 words typed

Not a terrible week, I guess, and more than I thought I’d manage– a couple of segments attacked this week were very like pulling teeth.  I’m also not going to manage to present a new work at the other outlet this week, as I have the last couple, because this week The Regular Job entered one of its infrequent “this is as much fun and effort as juggling flaming bears” phases.  I know I’m disappointing some people, and I’m also disappointing me.  The reproachful looks over the bathroom sink are going to be very hard to take.

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