Archive for November, 2009
I really don’t understand myself sometimes.
I have a great idea. I have tons of inspiration. I have gone on several quite awesome research trips, both of which included behind-the-scenes, I-really-shouldn’t-be-taking-you-here add-ons. And, after a brief moment of terror 1/2 way through this year’s NaNo book (“What do you mean, that sounds just like a movie you just saw advertised on TNT?!?”) (and no, there was no such movie. IMDB does not lie), I am fully certain that the world is DESPERATELY ready for this book.
I still can’t write. Today, because I got out of the house and used Write or Die, I was able to get a few thousand words up. Hah. Yes, the connotation there is appropriate. I feel completely flaccid when trying to write at home, and it’s all due to TV online.
I should never have purposed my laptop this way. Now, when I fire it up, I think, “Just one episode. A quick one, before I jump into it.” One turns into three… and before you know it, I’ve re-watched all of Firefly online and I’m 20,000 words behind, feeling impotent and unable to create, but fully and richly amused. Ah, Captain Archer. How you amuse.
I banished TV from my home years ago. I have very little willpower, or just very little will to exercise willpower, so if I have cable, it quickly descends into a bad, bad, couch-potatoey thing. Back then, I had an old PC on dial-up. A youTube kitty video would take three hours to load. Not a huge temptation.
Little did I realize that the future of television was moving into my browser. It’s so easy now! Right at my fingertips! And I’m sorry, but I can’t throw my computer out the window the way I did my TV. That’s not going to happen. Are you saying that I actually have to dig out my willpower now? Nooooo!!
Forget it. I’m just going to find WiFi disabled cafes to write in. It’s actually easier to force myself up and out of the house than to NOT flip to Hulu real quick. Or to see if the latest Glee is up. And from there, it’s all downhill.
But first… I haven’t seen Lady Gaga’s newest video yet. After that, I swear…
NaNoWriMo Word Count: 16,253. Projected Date of Completion: January 16th, 2010. Crap.
Bleh. I don’t even want to write here, today. I’ve got no motivation whatsoever. I want to sit on my couch, eat bonbons, and watch the Amazing Race.
I didn’t start the day this way. I started out this morning all excited and inspired, thanks to the San Francisco Awesome (they say the A is for Area, but I know better) RWA. Chatting with other writers, hearing tips and tricks to improve pacing (my own personal demon), and having a burger and a beer at a brewery… That’s a good way to start the day. I was all ready to blast home and get wild on NaNoWriMo’s butt.
NaNo had to wait. First, I needed to run into the city to finish a grant and meet with my boss. Who was a bit late. Three plus hours later, I found absolutely all of my inspiration and gung-ho-ness had leaked right out of my soggy brain.
It’s days like this that I miss working for the railroad. There’s nothing like having a purely physical job with tons of down time at home and in hotels, waiting for the phone to ring, to inspire creativity. It may not have been the career of my dreams, but it was fun, easy, with cool co-workers, and damn did it turn the fellas on to tell them I drove a train. Plus, I think I look sexy in overalls.
Sigh. Well, at least I’m doing good works. There was nothing philanthropic about hauling coal.
Okay, so I was really trying to write today. In fact, I got my daily words in, just barely. I’m (almost) caught up. However, in the interest of research, I decided I really had to go to the Columbarium today.
Really, I had to. My characters were heading that way, and I’d never been. Screw internet research, it’s right there!
Amazing. I can’t believe I’ve lived here practically my whole life and never been.
This is the last place that human remains can still be interred to within the city of San Francisco. I’m pretty sure they set a sweet price on the last few niches. They’re building more outside, but every one inside had a little reserved sign on it. Some had a few other signs as well:
Back in the day, these niches (or apartments, as Emmitt the AWESOME likes to call them) were just spots for urns:
Now not only do people fill their spots with the darndest things that they loved,
… even their urns are not exactly traditional:
I am so totally going back again with a tripod. I ended up spending 4 hours there, happily ensconced. Poor word choice, that. Even happier, ’cause they let me bring Boonie with me everywhere.
Oh Happy Sigh. Weird mementos, strange characters, history, and dead people. What’s not to like? Totally worth blowing off NaNoWriMo for a few hours. And now I am feeling inspired.
Journey to the End of the Night: a citywide game of tag, essentially. Last month, Journey decided to coincide with Halloween. What a perfect, perfect combination. Like lime juice and vodka.
I was running late, coming from an early party on the peninsula. I was sure I’d get there far too late to take part, and I was resolved to sneak ahead of the crowd to take fabulous pics with my new lens and tripod.
God bless light traffic. I made it just in time to sign one of the last few waivers and pick up my yellow armband. As a Runner, I only managed to take 1 fast snapshot:
Our sideshow, with ringmaster, bearded lady, and Rosie, just ’cause. The clown took the photo, and we lost the geek.
This was my first Journey, and my first task with sf0. 600 Runners met in Justin Herman Plaza, and all but a handful of us were in fabulous costume. A few silly (but gorgeous) women even decided to Run in high heels. They counted us down, we took off like a shot. Okay, most people did. My group sort of wandered off in the right general direction. We were plenty nonchalant, chatting about how cool we were going to be through this whole deal, until the first chaser found us and we scattered like pigeons peeing in their pantaloons.
It felt like a happy, safer version of a real zombie invasion. Running through a holiday-crazed city, a Chaser lurking behind every wolfman mask and painted face… I was hyper-alert, at least until my energy flagged and Wesley Crusher caught me while running in circles around a parked limo. I was known as the eagle-eye in my group, catching sight of orange armbands in plenty of time to duck behind dumpsters. We evaded, rather than sprinted. I found myself saying things like, “It’s quiet. Too quiet.”
From start to finish, we met up with some amazing comrades-in-arms. A woman studying parkour. I never did see her at the end, though I really believed she’d make it. Howard Stern ran with us in the beginning. A zombie lurching into light poles as blood poured from his mouth distracted me at a muni station. And civilians at every bar we stopped at (there were a few) were fascinated. Digits were got.
Just… the most fun… ever. sf0 just took my favorite holiday and made it even better. And I am proud, privileged, and tickled pink to have had the honor of serving with my fellow Runners.
Oh, and the Carnival Folk rule! The Clown won Best Chaser, and the Ringmaster won Best Costume!