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Sufficient Unto The Day
Thursday, May 20th, 2004 05:24 pmTook muscle relaxants last night. Took muscle relaxants this morning. Slept most of the afternoon, which was not according to plan, but at least now I'm awake enough -- and relatively pain-free enough -- to think about those sample chapters.
In current events: After twelve years in the same house, we have a new address. The town has only been promising this for -- well, for the last twelve years. We were warned when we moved in that the 911 addresses were a hair's breadth from being installed. Guess the rabbit got loose. But that's all water under the bridge: At last we have a street address. Yes! The Rescue can find us in, ghodforbid, an emergency (note that the town Rescue knew exactly where we were all this time, but if they need to send in a team from one of the other towns, a street address will theoretically bring them right to our door). More to the point, FedEx Ground will not now be able to say that they can't deliver a package because we have an "illegal" address; they'll have to think of another excuse.
Of course, after ditzing around for twelve years, the town gives everyone touched by this miracle until June 1 to make the appropriate changes. I think the Town Manager must have been in publishing, before he came to Maine to rusticate...
One of the proposed book length projects looks like it will be go RSN, which is good news. Steve's already at work on it. As above, I need to do sample chapters for the second proposal -- and something that looks like a satisfying ending; I sorta ran out of steam about five-eights of the way through the summary. The problem with being an organic writer of character-driven stories is that, after a certain point, what's necessary is to kick the characters off a cliff and see if they grow wings. Hard to do in proposal -- at my stage of skill, dern near impossible to do in proposal. Until the characters are flying on their own, to stretch the metaphor to the breaking point, I really can't say in detail what they'll do. Endings are kind of a moving target -- always have been. Ah, well -- Mozart will think of something.
Haircuts on the agenda tomorrow (I wonder if I can get Barbara to cut off the whole unmanageable mess of it?), then a weekend of washing, drying and packing.
In current events: After twelve years in the same house, we have a new address. The town has only been promising this for -- well, for the last twelve years. We were warned when we moved in that the 911 addresses were a hair's breadth from being installed. Guess the rabbit got loose. But that's all water under the bridge: At last we have a street address. Yes! The Rescue can find us in, ghodforbid, an emergency (note that the town Rescue knew exactly where we were all this time, but if they need to send in a team from one of the other towns, a street address will theoretically bring them right to our door). More to the point, FedEx Ground will not now be able to say that they can't deliver a package because we have an "illegal" address; they'll have to think of another excuse.
Of course, after ditzing around for twelve years, the town gives everyone touched by this miracle until June 1 to make the appropriate changes. I think the Town Manager must have been in publishing, before he came to Maine to rusticate...
One of the proposed book length projects looks like it will be go RSN, which is good news. Steve's already at work on it. As above, I need to do sample chapters for the second proposal -- and something that looks like a satisfying ending; I sorta ran out of steam about five-eights of the way through the summary. The problem with being an organic writer of character-driven stories is that, after a certain point, what's necessary is to kick the characters off a cliff and see if they grow wings. Hard to do in proposal -- at my stage of skill, dern near impossible to do in proposal. Until the characters are flying on their own, to stretch the metaphor to the breaking point, I really can't say in detail what they'll do. Endings are kind of a moving target -- always have been. Ah, well -- Mozart will think of something.
Haircuts on the agenda tomorrow (I wonder if I can get Barbara to cut off the whole unmanageable mess of it?), then a weekend of washing, drying and packing.
