Still working on Falling Star, my NaNo project. Probably will continue to for this week at least. Wrote 2000 words yesterday and 1300 tonight. That brings the grand total to 38,400. Not bad for a months work, even if it is a messy heap. Unfortunately, my schedule has firmly swung to nights. I’ll have to squeeze out my words during the day tomorrow due to disc.
The fall season is almost over. Tomorrow is our last regular season game. Next week we’ll have one pool game during the week and wrap it all up on the 9th. We have two losses thus far and many close wins. Getting to finals will require a lot of work. Disc this afternoon was good, as Wednesday disc usually is. Today was our first really pretty cool day, and windy too. I’ll probably close the last window tonight, that being the one in our bedroom. But disc in the wind, when nothing is on the line, is ridiculous and fun. Just try throwing a frisbee into a good gust of wind a few times and see if you agree.
The 9th is also the date of Martha’s Christmas party. We might go late if we’re not totally worn out. And hey, I might go already tipsy. …that can’t be a good thing…
The apartment is finally in passable shape. Laundry and dishes tomorrow, stuck in between writing. Oh, and putting up my outside lights. Stuff that gets me out of the back room.
Now for some reading. Reading is good.
I was a bad writer today and got nothing concrete done. Thought a bit about what the typical religious ceremony might entail in the Theocracies, but no research done, no words of paper. No excuse. While I spent the morning playing with my new toys and cleaning the apartment some, the afternoon was spent goofing in a very aimless way. I didn’t even read because, you know, if I can put effort forth into reading I should be writing, right?
Tonight, the excruciating pain of improvising plot for Rifts. Okay, it’s not that bad. Good practice, one would think.
I’m not going to finish NaNo. I hit 35K and then the holiday happened. But, I’m going to continue working on Falling Star until the month of November is up. There’s still a few things I want to play with before I take a look at Divine Fire again. At least I think that’s the plan.
In the land of diet and exercise, there’s been too much of the one and not enough of the other. It will be nice to get back to something resembling a normal schedule.
But of course, I started putting up my Christmas tree yesterday. I still have Halloween decorations up.
And it’s doubtful that I’ll achieve my reading goal for the year either. I have six books left to read and slightly over a month left. But, the goal got me finishing more books than usual. I don’t know when was the last time I read over 22 books in a year. It wasn’t since I’ve lived in Tempe, I know that much.
Today, one last dinner with the in-laws before Eric’s parents and Aunt Kathy head back to Nebraska.
Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis.
This book was nominated for a World Fantasy Award. Now, I suppose one can call Lunar Park fantasy, but if you do, you need to allow the entirety of the supernatural horror genre in too. Move over Jordan and Martin, Graham Masterton and James Herbert are going to start taking up space in the shelves next to you. Not that I found Lunar Park (nor the best novel winner, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami) in the fantasy section. Nope, those two as well as Graham Joyce’s The Limits of Enchantment were all in Tempe Public Library’s general fiction section. Hal Duncan’s Vellum was not to be found at all…
Lunar Park starts slow. Ellis sets up a fictional reality and then writes a memoir ghost story. The set up is everything I disliked about American Psycho. There is a steady stream of details that gets tiring, boring. Honestly, I’m not sure why I kept reading aside from a certain momentum that pulls a reader through. Thankfully, this doesn’t last as long as it does in American Psycho. Once the fictional Bret Easton Ellis is established, the story moves, meticulously setting up an atmosphere of dread. I wasn’t expecting a ghost story or the mild return of Patrick Bateman or a meditation on being a writer and the lives of a writer’s creations. Getting all three was something of a treat. And I wonder what epic S&S fantasy reader think of Lunar Park being included as one of the best fantasies of the year. Or what the ‘literary’ reader thinks of it being shelved in the non-genre section. Sadly, without the former I would have missed out on one of the best horror novels I’ve read in a long while.
The more I write for NaNo, the less inclined I am to update here. Just too busy. Today’s writing consisted of some rewrite. With crossed out bits left in.
Since last I updated:
DiscObedience lost a second game. There’s been so much zone being played this season that it’s almost ridiculous. I’d say it works, but you know, man defense might work to if anyone played it. I’ve found that it’s very hard to go from playing zone O to being on defense. Zone O, as a handler, is slow with a grave need for calm. It’s hard to switch on the ferocity after that. I guess that’s something I should remember when we throw zone too.
The party for Magda on Friday was nice, but something upset my stomach terribly. I think I’m still feeling the effects.
Despite my worry, the trip to San Diego went well. Except for forgetting all kinds of minor things. And being pulled over by the highway patrol (let go with only a warning). And nearly running out of gas on the way back (the yellow Shell station sign might have been the light of Gawd shining down). And me being quite sick, and Eric injuring his pinky toe. But nothing went absolutely, terribly wrong. We played lots of frisbee on the beach with Chris, went to see Casino Royale (very good) in a really neat mall, and generally hung out. It was lovely and relaxing. And reaffirming that one day I when I’m filthy rich I’ll live on a beach.
Tomorrow, Eric’s parents arrive.
If only there was another week to this month…
Caught up on NaNo. Woot! Eric’s actually thinking about this as being a possible book. Silly boy. It’s even been given a name: Falling Star. I’m happier thinking of it as not-a-book, but whatever.
A car has been rented and a hotel room reserved for this weekend. Technically we’ll be in Coronado, which I’ve heard is nice.
New problem with me playing disc. It seems the nubs I get in the palms of my hands are causing some bruising and inflammation. It doesn’t hurt when I catch, but when I let go of a forehand throw there’s a certain amount of spreading that goes on in the palm of my hand. That hurts. Sharp, ripping pain. So I taped it up and had no further problem. What am I going to be like when I’m actually old. I shudder to think.
I could get more writing done, but reading sounds more relaxing.