Being a Brief Account of Another Dead Day
There's not a whole lot to say about yesterday. I did not "hammer out" the proposal for Blood Oranges. Instead, I sat here all day, making notes for the book, trying to find something like a plot. That provisional plot I inevitably use for proposals, which often looks very little like the finished book. I think I may include the proposal for The Red Tree in Sirenia Digest #48, as an example, because I read back over it yesterday, and I truly am grateful the book described therein is not the book I ended up writing. It'll be the same way this time, but even knowing that makes this no easier. I'm just no good at "hammering out" prose, even provisional prose. My response to the received wisdom of writing instructors and workshops that one should never be afraid of writing a bad first draft...well, it's rude, my response, and centers on my general unwillingness to write anything badly.
I did come up with two names yesterday, the name of the narrator (yes, it's another first-person narrative)- India Phelps -and the name of her lover- Eva Canning. I lifted Eva from "Werewolf Smile," from Sirenia Digest #45, though this Eva will be a very different Eva from that Eva. It's not much, but it's a start.
I am thinking that today I'll be going to a library to continue my notes and the working out of this puzzle, in hopes that by tomorrow I'll be ready to write the proposal/synopsis thing, however provisional it might be. And I still have a short story to write for Bill Schafer at subpress this month, and two pieces to write for Sirenia Digest #48. That means I have, at best, twenty days remaining to get all this work done, having lost most of those first ten days of November.
Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thanks.
I forgot to mention that Spooky and I read and adored David Petersen's Mouseguard Fall 1152, and are now looking forward to Winter 1152.
However, last night we watched the series premiere of the V remake (it really is a remake, and not a "reboot"), thanks to Hulu, and I was not so impressed. Thing is, I was never much of a fan of the original series, and I saw very little last night that improved upon it. Sure, Morena Baccarin does a superb job, and is extremely easy on the eyes. But that's about all the first episode had going for it. Partly, it's that this new V is weighed down by the blandness that usually infects network television. Interchangeable, forgettable characters reciting forgettable, interchangeable dialogue. I'll watch again next week, but I'm no longer optimistic.
And now I need to get dressed and slip out into the chilly grey day.
I did come up with two names yesterday, the name of the narrator (yes, it's another first-person narrative)- India Phelps -and the name of her lover- Eva Canning. I lifted Eva from "Werewolf Smile," from Sirenia Digest #45, though this Eva will be a very different Eva from that Eva. It's not much, but it's a start.
I am thinking that today I'll be going to a library to continue my notes and the working out of this puzzle, in hopes that by tomorrow I'll be ready to write the proposal/synopsis thing, however provisional it might be. And I still have a short story to write for Bill Schafer at subpress this month, and two pieces to write for Sirenia Digest #48. That means I have, at best, twenty days remaining to get all this work done, having lost most of those first ten days of November.
Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thanks.
I forgot to mention that Spooky and I read and adored David Petersen's Mouseguard Fall 1152, and are now looking forward to Winter 1152.
However, last night we watched the series premiere of the V remake (it really is a remake, and not a "reboot"), thanks to Hulu, and I was not so impressed. Thing is, I was never much of a fan of the original series, and I saw very little last night that improved upon it. Sure, Morena Baccarin does a superb job, and is extremely easy on the eyes. But that's about all the first episode had going for it. Partly, it's that this new V is weighed down by the blandness that usually infects network television. Interchangeable, forgettable characters reciting forgettable, interchangeable dialogue. I'll watch again next week, but I'm no longer optimistic.
And now I need to get dressed and slip out into the chilly grey day.