So I have a reader, a woman whose name I know from the occasional email and several crowdfunding campaigns and chatting here and there over the past few years. Nice lady. Someone I think of in that fuzzy “friend” territory that the internet creates, you know?
Acquaintance, however, is probably more accurate, since I didn’t learn that her oldest daughter is affected by something called Smith Magenis Syndrome until a few days ago, when Eleri cautiously announced she was doing a fundraiser. For their daughter, SMS causes behavioral issues, developmental delays and sleep disruption. She’s currently at a theraputic facility, and while she’s gone, Eleri is hoping to make their back yard a safer place for their little girl.
They’re aiming for what seems to be a very modest $2500, and are 10% of the way there. If you’ve got a dollar or ten to spare, maybe send it their way? Eleri’s been very supportive of me over the years, and I’d love to be able to help give some of that back to her.
Thank you. <3
(x-posted from The Essential Kit)
On Roadstead Farm
Words today: 1400.
Words total: 65,450.
Reason for stopping: I might still be running on west coast time, but it's really late.
Darling du Jour: "I saw him once," Lieutenant Jackson said, softer. "From a distance, in our camp once the Wicked God was slaughtered. He walked so tall, even with everything we'd been through; walked like a man who could find his way through anything. Made a man want to follow him; see how it's done. Perhaps you could turn out like that yourself, it made you think."
Mean Things: Secrets and secrets and lies and lies.
Research Roundup: Herons in flight.
Books in progress: matociquala, Range of Ghosts.
We are back from Nebula Weekend, not much the worse for wear despite two full days that were just airports, and airplanes, and plus one day in the park this afternoon to fill the well back up. I may write that up properly tomorrow; I might not. I will try, if fiction's going well enough.
I do not write very well on planes. I managed maybe 500 words, all told, all weekend (although they were super-productive ones that put a serious plot point together, and that's my new lodestar for the time being). This is the beginning of making up for that: the wholesale killing of Chapter 11 tonight, and a good start into Chapter 12.
Tomorrow's goal: Take down Chapter 12 too, and crunch right on ahead. It's time this thing got done already.
- Current Mood: sleepy
- Current Music:P. has some jazz on in the other room
Friday: Made cloth pads.
Saturday: Made a skirt.
Sunday: Actually had the presence of mind of get some reading done. Finished short stories, novel, a couple of science chapters.
Monday: Attempted to finish reading. Had a long nap instead.
~_~ On every single day, I've lost some time sleeping in the afternoon because I simply could not stay awake. I need to see a doctor about this because it's getting really aggravating. I feel like I constantly have sandy eyes. Attempts to read and just THINK become naps that shouldn't happen.
I don't feel depressed, so I don't think that's it.
This one's my favorite:
- Current Mood:sily
- Current Music:"Tourist Town Bar" by Michael McCloud
So I bought airline tickets to London today. I guess we’re actually going to World Fantasy!(shudder) oh so much money….
No, can’t worry about that; I’ve run the numbers thoroughly, and I can make this work. And it will be SO much fun and SO worth it professionally.
I also signed up on a home-exchange site. That took most of my morning. Fortunately, it was a sunny day, so I was able to take lovely pictures of the house and yard and all. (And I hope I don’t get dinged for false advertising, showing a sunny Portland house while asking for a trade in October/November…)
So now I’m worried no one will want to trade for late fall, here. But, I’m doing all I can to make it happen. I searched the website for Londoners wanting trades, and sent one query. I’ll keep searching, and sending, and we’ll see!
- Current Location:Witchnest Manor
- Current Mood: busy
Last week I did a series of tweets talking about going through Body Politic and finding a hundred errors, fixing them, then finding thirty more, fixing those, and finding another dozen. It was an excellent example of iterative publishing. I ended the series by saying that even with all our attention beforehand, we always find mistakes in the finished books. How many? Well take a look at Tub of Happiness to the left. I’ve identified over a dozen things that I want to fix before it heads out for its second printing. That printing is imminent, so if there is a typo or other error in Tub of Happiness that has been driving you crazy, please email email@example.com with the error and page number. I may already know about it, but you just might be saving me from holding yet another printed book and finding a mistake in it.
Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.
This week and next week I have so many irons in the fire that there is hardly any room for a fire. I’m not likely to have brain enough to write full and thoughtful blog posts. Yet my brain is thoroughly trained to notice things, think about them, and then hold them until time to write. My brain fills up with fragments, each of which would be a lovely post, but time and I have to march onward. By the time I have space to write there will be some other thought more pressing. So I shall record some of the fragments in the hope that if I pin them down with words, they’ll stop fluttering around in my brain begging for attention I can not spare.
No one told me that the sales people would begin circling the minute my child completed her ACT and declared her intention to both graduate from high school and attend college. Circle they did, first with suggestions of the importance of commemorating high school. Surely my child needed a ring, a jacket, a hoodie, photographs, a tassel, graduation announcements, all with her school logo. I was assured that these things would be forever treasured, just like her years in high school. The brochures were pitched to appeal to nervous/nostalgic teens and parents alike. We got her a tassel. While the pitches to commemorate high school were still in full force we started hearing from colleges. All of them wanted us to know that they were very impressed and giving Kiki a very special opportunity for a fast-track application. They very carefully did not say how much they want our education dollars. Kiki applied to a single school, got in, and began bouncing the rest straight into the trash. I thought that would be the end of it, but today we got the first of a new onslaught. Our child is going to the dorms, surely we want to buy her a super value kit of bedding, laundry hamper, toilet kit, all at extremely reasonable prices. Every where I turn someone is hoping that during this transitional period in our lives we’ll be ready to throw around some money in an effort to appease our emotions. It makes me think of the stories Howard tells about the shark-like tactics of coffin salesmen. They’re worse than used car salesmen because they prey on the bereaved.
This morning I gave the final go ahead for the printing of Body Politic. I will next interact with that book when it shows up at my door. As usual, I do not have time to luxuriate in something completed. Instead I am immediately setting to work on the reprinting of Tub of Happiness and even more critically on the shipping of 30,000 coins. Latest word says that those coins will arrive at my door by Wednesday. Tomorrow I’ll begin triaging to figure out how the shipping processes need to work.
We’re in the last rush to complete school work before the year is over. It makes me resentful of the one last complex project that Patch has to complete. The other three kids mostly have at-school things left to do, not homework.
I spent this morning re-creating financial data after my hard drive crash. It was tedious, but finally validated my tendency to keep paper statements. I’m still maintaining a list of data lost. So far it is only four items long. This is good.
I wish I had more time to luxuriate in the process of helping Kiki prepare for her CONduit show. I would love to do right by her there. Particularly since her latest birthday was not everything she hoped it would be. Yes the circling sales people are right, we are a bit emotional during this transitional phase. I just don’t think that buying her the perfect dorm room trash can will make up for whatever lacks there have been in the past eighteen years. Instead I’ve been trying to soak up normal before normal changes. She graduated from Seminary on Sunday. Next Thursday she’ll don the classic cap and gown and march with her classmates. I don’t know where that will put us all emotionally. We’re in uncharted territory here. The kids afterward will have a road map that they can follow or avoid. For now I’m doing small nice things for Kiki daily between now and the beginning of June. It won’t be enough, or rather, if there hasn’t been enough to date, no last minute effort will fix that. But it feels like the impending launch is a good one. We’re nervous, but ready. Also, we’ve still got months. Graduation closes off high school, but it does not begin college.
Howard is feeling better, for which I am daily grateful.
I read a novel draft for a friend. It was how I spent my Saturday instead of the ways I’d assigned to myself. I love when a book pulls me in and earns my tears. Note, there is a difference between pulling strings and really earning sadness. Also, I love it when I can love the books of my friends.
My poor correspondence box is gathering dust. I hope to write letters again in June.
It is late and there are more irons in the fire for tomorrow.
Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.
Sliding-scale and low-cost does not necessarily mean you will be able to get what you need for a price you actually find affordable; however, this is information that might be useful to some people, so I scanned it in as a PDF (actually, two PDFs because there were two sides to the sheet and I only have Acrobat Reader. There may be a way to combine them into one but I haven't figured it out yet.) If anyone wants it, drop me a note either as a comment, a fb message, or an e-mail (same name I use for everything @ Google owns my soul dot com). I'll note again that it's only Twin Cities area providers.
Also, one of the things that bothers the hell out of me, in general, is the way our society treats dental health.
On one hand, decent dental care is treated as a luxury. There is no "dental ER" where a person in extreme pain will be treated regardless of ability to pay. If you are lucky enough to be able to find charity care in an emergency, you're going to be offered an extraction, because crowns are for people who can pay for them.
On the other hand, people with visible missing teeth are discriminated against in employment, joked about, and (in some cases) treated with disgust and contempt.
The rationale for this is the myth that virtue inoculates you against dental problems -- therefore, if someone needs a root canal, it's because they didn't brush. The problem with this is that it's bullshit. You can brush, floss, and use fluoride rinse and still wind up with catastrophic dental problems for any number of reasons that are totally outside your control, including whether you breathe through your mouth in your sleep, whether you suffer from GERD, whether your saliva is particularly acidic, whether your enamel failed to form quite right. You can break a tooth while eating a salad.
There are a lot of crazy societal double standards when it comes to poor people, but this is one of the more blatant.
Life. Sometimes, it’s just crazy, man.
Day job and various personal engagements have conspired to utterly wipe out my schedule, and the insanity ain’t over yet. Admittedly, much of this is self-inflicted, but that doesn’t make it any less real.
Other than database updates and getting few mss back into circulation, the most meaningful progress to report is that I have decided to put off the rewrite of Apocalypse Pictures Presents for the nonce. “The Winter Palace” is also in need of a new draft, and that will be a much more manageable project, one that will potentially pay off sooner.
Or so I had decided, until last night, when another rewrite request came in. And as this one has a hard deadline, it will have to come first.
For those keeping score at home, that’s now three rewrite projects on my desk. It’s a good problem to have, I suppose, and I have a pretty good track record working with editors. But still.
Maybe it’s for the best. I’ll be traveling this week, and past experience has taught me that some rewrite work is my best shot at actually being productive.
Write Club update: A tier two bounce from Wily Writers. Response time, seven weeks.
|Originally published at Matthew S. Rotundo's Pixeltown|
- Current Music:"Can't Get This Stuff No More"--Van Halen
* My doctor wanted me to finish the round of pills I was in the middle of when I got my interuterine demon**. Saturday was my last dose of estrogen-based birth control. Now we'll see what the progesterone does.
** I really want to write a story about interuterine demons. I would also be happy to read other people's.
- Current Mood: accomplished
- Current Music:She Past Away - Ice Kapanis
Words in current chapter (3): 3074
Out-of-sequence etc.: 2267
Words in "deleted scenes" file: 4415
Finally got the Midnight-verse playlist out of my head and onto my iPod. Of course, now the problem is that I am tempted to go poking around on iTunes for things to add to it. Those cats, they don't wax themselves...
- Current Music:Sir Roger de Coverley / Fear a'bhata / etc. (Midnight-verse playlist)
I drove over to Gaithersburg yesterday so I could take part in the Maryland Ukulele Jam, a gathering which started last month and, if all goes well, will continue on the third Sunday of every month.
We jammed to about a dozen songs, one of which was led by yours truly. I decided to share Malvina Reynolds’ “Little Boxes,” not just because it’s a fun song, but also because it only uses three chords, and is therefore easy to pick up even for those who’ve never heard it before.
Note the presence of Inhofe and Coburn in the "no" column.
When they inevitable request aid for OK, yes, they'll be a pair of hypocritical bastards.
No, it doesn't mean OK should be denied the aid; the request is legitimate, and the people need help, not a pointless lesson in what a pair of shits they've elected.
But the senators themselves damned well deserve to be raked over the fucking coals. And to get the fuck out of our government.
(FYI, for those who don't know, my roots are in OK; my mom grew up in OK, and although I no longer have any family near any of the affected areas, it's still a part of my childhood.)