if you don't fight, then you don't win
Okay. Finally, finally wrote that scene wot's been sitting on me for the past few months. I think it turned out fairly well. Maybe a bit too much descriptive detail but the writing group assures me every single time that I haven't gone overboard. I'm still not entirely sure I believe them on that count but maybe that's a good thing. Keeps my purple pen in control.
Speaking of, I bought a few too many books yesterday. But in my defence, I am totally addicted to Louise Rennison and it's not my fault! Finished Knocked Out By My Nunga-Nungas day before, bought and read Dancing In My Nuddy-Pants yesterday. Georgia is just such a scream, so funny and so real and I am totally high on her modernised nadsat. It's like Enid Blyton's boarding school books meets Bridget Jones' Diary meets A Clockwork Orange. Completely addictive.
It's funny how my favourite literature at the moment --- Heyer and Rennison and Pratchett --- all feature a language of their very own, in that reading each of them requires tapping into a very specific vocabulary. I'm finding that enormously satisfying at that moment. Wonder why ... is it a sort of challenge? Engaging the whole brain sort of thing? But then none of them are difficult reading experiences. I find them ridiculously easy to read, so much so that I'm devouring each book at a pace that's slightly alarming even to me.
Made a frightening discovery yesterday at Dymocks. I've read pretty much every Heyer they stock except for one. And the historicals I don't want to read. Holy fuck, how did that happen? I thought I had several to go, still. *shudders a little at self*
Home today cos I figured if I was going to take Friday off for the wedding, I may as well take Thursday off for the writing. And as of Monday, I'm back to three days a week. Which means I'm only working one day in the next pay week. Ouch. But the time will be worth the lack of money and I'm cushioned enough with savings. Plus, you know, one hopes that one will be too busy writing to spend any money.
And I've been counselled out of the minor novel crisis by Miss Sheba telling me most sternly: "You won't know what to cut out until you've written the whole thing. So write it!" Right. *nods* Must remember that. Also, bloody if Susanna Clarke's first published novel can be a couple of hundred thousand words, why can't mine?! cos you're not Susanna Clarke? Oh shut up. Just write!
Wordcount: 92,576
Pages: 288.
Okay, must eat and shower and then figure out what comes next. I've been wanting to change my LJ header for the past three days but can't find a picture to properly illustrate my mood these days. Damned frustrating but I have faith in the Interwebz.
Speaking of, I bought a few too many books yesterday. But in my defence, I am totally addicted to Louise Rennison and it's not my fault! Finished Knocked Out By My Nunga-Nungas day before, bought and read Dancing In My Nuddy-Pants yesterday. Georgia is just such a scream, so funny and so real and I am totally high on her modernised nadsat. It's like Enid Blyton's boarding school books meets Bridget Jones' Diary meets A Clockwork Orange. Completely addictive.
It's funny how my favourite literature at the moment --- Heyer and Rennison and Pratchett --- all feature a language of their very own, in that reading each of them requires tapping into a very specific vocabulary. I'm finding that enormously satisfying at that moment. Wonder why ... is it a sort of challenge? Engaging the whole brain sort of thing? But then none of them are difficult reading experiences. I find them ridiculously easy to read, so much so that I'm devouring each book at a pace that's slightly alarming even to me.
Made a frightening discovery yesterday at Dymocks. I've read pretty much every Heyer they stock except for one. And the historicals I don't want to read. Holy fuck, how did that happen? I thought I had several to go, still. *shudders a little at self*
Home today cos I figured if I was going to take Friday off for the wedding, I may as well take Thursday off for the writing. And as of Monday, I'm back to three days a week. Which means I'm only working one day in the next pay week. Ouch. But the time will be worth the lack of money and I'm cushioned enough with savings. Plus, you know, one hopes that one will be too busy writing to spend any money.
And I've been counselled out of the minor novel crisis by Miss Sheba telling me most sternly: "You won't know what to cut out until you've written the whole thing. So write it!" Right. *nods* Must remember that. Also, bloody if Susanna Clarke's first published novel can be a couple of hundred thousand words, why can't mine?! cos you're not Susanna Clarke? Oh shut up. Just write!
Wordcount: 92,576
Pages: 288.
Okay, must eat and shower and then figure out what comes next. I've been wanting to change my LJ header for the past three days but can't find a picture to properly illustrate my mood these days. Damned frustrating but I have faith in the Interwebz.