Ice cream for breakfast!

I’m having ice cream for breakfast because I can. It’s decadent and self-indulgent, and it makes me happy. Sometimes being an adult means being irresponsible and impulsive.


Writing Stuff

On an amusing “day in the life a writer,” lonewolf23 has posted an animation that captures writerly frustration. Warning: It’s pretty gory . . . for a stick figure animation.

New Words: 850
Oof. I’m at 2.1K and I’m only about two-thirds of the way through this folk tale. Damn. No help for it but to finish it and see what I can cut, I suppose. I suspect the space issue is what’s giving me such trouble in getting this one on the page. I knew this story was too long for 2K. Argh.

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500/day
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Nix on the jam. But all systems go on pie!

After doing a lot of reading up on jam making via various Internet sites, I got utterly intimidated by the prospect. The final clincher was when we went to Kroger’s to see what they had as far as supplies. They had jars. That’s it. No jar funnel, no tongs, and of course no racks or anything more specialized. I have to admit to feeling some relief. I don’t think I’m ready to do jam yet. I’m going to hold off on my first foray into homemade blackberry jam until next year. Maybe I’ll ask for a kit with all the necessary and optional tools for a Christmas or birthday present.

Instead, I made blackberry pie. Surfed about online until I found this recipe. It had the virtue of being simple. Four cups of blackberries, some awkwardness with a boxed crust mix, sugar, flour, and about an hour later, I ended up with this:

It’s not going to win any pretty awards, but it’s fantastic on the taste buds. I added a little more sugar (about a quarter cup) because our blackberries are slightly on the tart side, but aside from that, I did exactly as the recipe stipulated. We had a couple pieces for dessert and it’s absolutely delicious. Yum! I’m so proud of myself. I made blackberry pie from scratch using the fruit from our backyard. How cool is that? And it looks like we’ll have enough blackberries from this harvest to make at least one more pie, maybe two. For the next one, I’m going to try to make it a little more visually appealing.


Writing Stuff

New Words: 100
On the folk tale. Progress is slow.

Club 100 For Writers
31

I think I’m in love with Dennis

Spent the weekend in a queasy haze, but I think whatever was upsetting my system is done with me. But I have to say, if I must spend a couple days fading in and out of consciousness, the way I want to do it is with the soft darkness of a thunderstorm wrapping me like a blanket while the rain chants and whispers in my ears. I love the storms that Dennis has brought. With the air so soft, and the purple-grey sky, I can’t help but be soothed. I look out the window and I see the trees dancing in the wind. It’s just perfect.

Except I hope none of the dancing trees gets dizzy and falls down.


Writing Stuff

51-day “So long and thanks for all the fish” “Made the first cut . . .It’s a good story, well written, with some quantum weirdness and a likeable protagonist but . . .” from Farthing.
3-day form pass from Fictitious Force.

I need to set aside the short story idea that had me in a research frenzy and finish up that folk tale. I really must complete something here.

Super-sized fictitious boffing

Watched Super Size Me. Very pleased that 1. I’m a vegetarian and 2. I don’t eat fast food. But watching it still made me nauseous. Although now I think the nausea might be due to something else. We ate very healthy yesterday. I had fruit for breakfast, and we had a vegetable stir fry for dinner. But even so, I seem to be having some sort of major tummy upset. It’s spread to a general malaise and headache, so I spent most of yesterday crashed out on the couch. Ugh. I’d wonder whether I’ve caught a virus of some sort, but I’m not sporting a fever, and with my immune system being as over-zealous as it is, if anything bug or bacteria-esque hits me, the first thing my body does is ratchet up a high fever. That would lead me to think food poisoning, except we don’t really eat anything that has a particularly high dangerous quotient–that whole vegetarian thing–and fosteronfilm has eaten everything I have, and he’s fine.

Blah.

A fun little meme, because I need something to take my mind off how icky I feel:

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Asian tiger mosquito attack!

Went out berry picking again yesterday. The last few days, fosteronfilm has been going without me because the mosquitoes don’t seem to like him as much, but he also mowed the lawn, and found a couple blackberry bushes we weren’t aware of before that were overflowing with ripe berries and wanted my help. He was out for over an hour, mowing and picking. No bites. I was out for five minutes and got half a dozen bites on my arms. (He sent me back inside after I spilled the berry box while slapping away an evil bloodsucker.) I am, apparently, a tasty treat.

After putting ice on the largest welts and having a shower, I looked up my bitey nemesis, as they were stripey and scary-looking. We have Asian tiger mosquitoes, a particularly aggressive species that bite during the day, rather than the more usual dusk and nighttime biters. Lucky us. They’re not strong fliers, staying within 100 yards of their birthing spot, and I know where they’re spawning–in the fetid koi pond the previous owner installed. I want to tear out that larvae-infested morass and fill it in. I liked having the turtle winter there, and I’m fond of the toads that occasionally go *plop* into it when we get too near, but the mosquitoes are horrible. I wish there was a way we could encourage dragonflies, which would eat the damn mosquitoes, but I haven’t seen any. I suspect the water is too stagnant for them. We’ve periodically emptied it, but as soon as it rains, it fills in again. Gah.

Until we get the thing excavated and filled, I’m putting some vegetable oil in the pond. Supposedly it will suffocate the mosquito larvae. And next year, we’re investing in some Bacillus thuringiensis israelensis. No point in doing it this year. Berry season is only for a few more weeks, at which point I can’t imagine me needing to go near that pond again this year. Might even install that bat house I’ve longed for. I want more natural mosquito predators.

We hatesss mosquitoessss. *itch*

Blackberry jam

Okay, our blackberry crop is officially spectacular. I’m seriously going to try to make blackberry jam, God help me. In the next couple days I’m going to buy some jam jars and pectin. Anyone have any vital hints or tips I should know about the undertaking before I start?


Writing Stuff

namaah_darling gave me a glowing review of my chapbook Inspirations End/Still My Beating Heart:
“these two vampire short stories are beautifully written and darkly unsettling, each with a twist on accepted conventions that makes them at once familiar and new . . . Beautiful, and recommended.”

Squee! Made my day.

New Words: +300, -200
Did a massive rewrite of the first part of the folktale as I realized it was too wordy and taking far too long to get to the action, a luxury I can’t afford to indulge in on a 2-3K work. There was much trimming, streamlining, and brainstorming. And also did some just-in-time research.

Club 100 For Writers
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London thoughts

Okay, I’m lagging behind the fast-breaking news race. I just recently learned about the bombings in London.

I’ve got a dear friend who lives there. I know the odds are very slim that he was hurt or worse, but I’m going to quietly freak out until I hear from him.

A dark day for the side of peace and goodwill toward man.

[Edit: Our friend just phoned. We got cut off twice, but he’s safe and sound. Whew. Such a relief.]

Allergies lead to napping

Something in the air is triggering my allergies. My skin feels like it needs to crawl off my body. I took a Benadryl and it knocked me totally for a loop. I have the choice of being out for the count or itchy. Blah. Spent a good chunk of yesterday in an antihistamine haze, and the rest of it trying to recover with a Sudafed and coffee cocktail. As such, not much was accomplished. So, here’s a couple skunk pictures:


Us napping on the couch.

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Things I wish I’d told myself . . .

Ganked from various folks:

10 things I would tell to my 12-year-old self:

1. DON’T take Russian in high school. Take Latin! Take LATIN!! Or, French. But by God and all that is holy, don’t take Russian! You’ll never use it and forever lament that you don’t have a solid background in Latin. You can take French, but you’ll do it in college as an easy A, so it can wait.

2. You’re intelligent and beautiful. Don’t listen to the asshats who call themselves your friends who are trying to convince you otherwise. If you do, it’ll take you years to get over their dysfunctional, passive-aggressive mind games.

3. Take the damn PSAT, you fool. You rawk at standardized tests. Is there a reason you want to throw away the opportunity for college scholarship money? And also, while we’re talking standardized tests, do a little prep for the ACT and SAT. When we prepped for the GRE, we totally blew it away. Think about how much better you’ll score if you’d just cracked a book or two.

4. When you decide in a year or so that it’d be fun to color your hair blue, don’t. Or, if you’re really intent upon blue hair, don’t let your friend who’s going through beauty school do it. Down that path lies tragedy and tears. Well, maybe not tragedy . . . or tears. But a lot of blue on everything.

5. There’s nothing you can do about your mother. Sorry. Deal with her as best as you can. But on the positive side, she becomes a non-issue as soon as you leave for college in four years. On a related note, when your mother finds out your dad is helping out with your college tuition, don’t let her go after him with her lawyers to fulfill his child support debt, because as soon as she starts legal proceedings, he’ll disappear again, and his monthly checks will too. And even though she caused your academic financial dire straits, she won’t do anything to get you out of them.

6. Quit worrying so much about what other people are thinking about you. They’re not. They’re too preoccupied worrying about what other people are thinking about them. And the ones that are spending their time judging you? They’re shallow losers who will end up as college drop-outs working pizza delivery jobs or secretaries clinging to the past in a smoky haze.

7. Revel in your health. It’s not going to last. Your body’s going to fall apart pretty quickly, so enjoy it while you can.

8. Don’t let the next four years derail your dream of being a writer. If you do, it’ll be over a decade before you pick it up again. You’ll lose years when you could have been polishing your craft, taking creative writing classes, and getting published.

9. The guy you’re going to fall in love with in the next few months? He’s a jerk. In fact, most of the guys you hook up with in the next couple years are going to be total losers. Have fun with them, but don’t take them too seriously. And y’know the guy you’ve had a crush on since first grade? He’s not for you. He’s going to grow up to be just like his parents, and you know what they’re like. Your true love is someone you don’t know yet. You’ll meet him in college. Trust me.

10. You’re a wonderful person. You’ll come to see that in time, but it would really cause a lot less heartache if you’d just accept that now.


Writing Stuff

Heard back from the editor of Apex Digest. He approved of my rewrite and wants to publish “Oranges, Lemons, and Thou Beside Me” in their Winter 2005 issue, #4. Hurray!

Also saw a review from Bluejack in the July IROSF of “The Life and Times of Penguin” (in the current issue of Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine) that made me grin. It’s a wry grin, but a grin nonetheless:

“Of all of the stories, only Eugie Foster’s The Life and Times of Penguin really managed to stick in my craw. But I managed to get it out, and my craw is doing fine now, thanks. (Foster trots out the usual objections to any sort of loving God, and shoots down the usual straw men. You’re either going to agree wholeheartedly, or, if you’re to my way of thinking, you’ll pound the table grumbling “That’s not the point.” But if you’ve ever talked religion with anyone, this will be nothing new. And the story’s fine.)”

Now, that makes me wonder, has Bluejack not read Candide by Voltaire? “Penguin” is as high an homage I can make to that amusing work, not to mention my salute to a balloon animal a sweet old man made me. Ah well. I am sort of disappointed, overall, with the caliber of Bluejack’s reviews in IROSF. A lot of it is how sketchy his coverage is. He only touches upon one or two of the stories in each issue of any ‘zine he reviews. I suppose it’s because of the bulk of material he has to cover, but I’ve been published in several issues that he’s “reviewed” and received nothing but a dismissive synopsis. And the one tale of mine that he does deign to give more than passing attention to, he objects to on religious principle. I end up with a dismissive “the story’s fine.” Well fooie.

New Words: 600
On a new folktale.

Club 100 For Writers
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500/day
60

A little bird told me . . .

Saw the most adorable little bird in our backyard. It was a tiny thing, maybe the size of a walnut on steroids, black and white wings with a black head. Tried to get a picture, but my photography skills were not up to the task. Ended up with a shot of a blurry black and white feathery lump, which I will not subject my flist to. After it flitted away, a tiny red-brown bird, like a female cardinal but in miniature, hopped along. It was only slightly larger than a walnut on steroids, and I’m wondering, are these birds fledglings, or am I suddenly getting an influx of Lilliputian birds?


Writing Stuff

Progress on The List:
1. Do rewrite of “Oranges, Lemons, and Thou Beside Me.” Added 400 words in more passes than I can remember. Going to give it another read-through (or three) and then send it back to the editor for approval. Done and sent off to editor.
2. Finish critique in-progress. Done.
3. Finish researching and write WIP folktale. In progress.
4. Compile stats & finish rewrite of current story up at Critters. Rewrite done-ish. Going to wait for the last crits to trickle in before I stick the fork in, but the silverware is poised to strike.
5. Compose and send thank you notes for crits of Critters story. Whew, caught up.
6. Review material for Tangent.
7. Get back to work on the novel.

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