77 posts tagged “fsotd”
It's been a while, because I've been editing and proofing rather than writing fresh stuff. But now I'm that I'm at my writing retreat, I'm back to working on the other novel I've been working on. I'm trying to nail the ending right now, then I'll go back and spend the rest of this week polishing the whole of the first draft, because my agent is eager to see it. And any time my agent is enthusiastic, I want to run with it.
Without any further ado, here's the prodigal FSotD:
A fourth BANG (but only the third shot, for those counting), came from another direction entirely, and wasn’t even discerned in all the following commotion, except by ears far more sensitive and satellite-dish…ish than a human’s.
In honor of Canada Day, show us your favorite Canadian.
Today, it's me, for being a good writer! I spent the morning finishing edits on my novel for the publisher, re-read the whole last act in the process, and still found it gripping, even though I wrote it and knew what was coming next.
/end shameless bragging
Also, I ran into this FSotD that I forgot I'd written:
“I am so bagged, I should be full of groceries and stuck in someone’s minivan,” Jeff said.
Now that TK is safely on the road to recovery, we can turn our minds to more frivolous things again.
Today was a dedicated writing day (once I got home from my morning yoga class), and was diligent at it, because I'm going to get edits on the novel that's being published soon, so until those come, I figured I should blitz away on the current novel I'm working on. I spent a good deal of time up on the penthouse level patio, only coming back down when I needed to recharge my battery, and took a break for about an hour to go see a photo exhibit nearby that one of my yoga classmates had photos in. (After all, if I want people to come to a book launch for me, I should show support for their talents, too, and the photos were really quite excellent.)
And it was a reasonably good writing day in that there were no lengthy stretches where I couldn't think of what to write, and I even came up with some funnish sentences. Since I didn't remember to post an FSotD last weekend after writing (though I did pick one out from that session), I'm posting it now, too:
Naomi pinned him with the kind of look that, had David had been a bug (and her expression pretty much suggested he was), it would have speared him in flight, dunked him in formaldehyde, and impaled him to a board under glass before he could stop flapping.
She spoke with more forced airiness than her heating system at home.
“That’s right, just a regular work day around here,” Naomi said in a peanut brittle voice—too sweet, rather nutty and ready to crack
I don't think that middle sentence is quite right yet. It's about a word off. Suggestions?
It's nearly 9 p.m. here and I've only come down from the patio again to make a quick dinner. I feel like I've earned a break (I have Superbad taped and two library books I'm very close to finishing), but I'm also thinking, "Well, this has been going pretty well all day, why stop now?" I hate these decision points.
That Jane—cagier than a boarding kennel.
So I did a little more writing this afternoon and came up with this FSotD:
Walton’s crisis of confidence was pants-crappingly total.
Here's the little mystery patio on the penthouse level of my building. And part of the view from it (10 floors up).
I thought it would be bigger. I took this standing against one wall. That's my knapsack on the table, and my teeny laptop on the chair in the shade.
Here's the view straight south. That's Lake Ontario in the background, and the white domes in the middle distance are the tennis club where I go for Saturday yoga.
After writing, I went down to feed the boxcar cats, so that I don't have to go before work tomorrow morning. It's been a lovely day here and as I approached, I could see four of the cats out sunning themselves on the stairs of one of the boxcars, so I stopped and got a photo.
It was only after I downloaded the photos at home that I realized you can actually see FIVE cats in the photos. (I hadn't noticed the Blanca underneath in the shade when I was taking it.)
Now, having had dinner (and made more red velvet cupcakes -- normal style, not roses -- while it was cooking), I'm loafing for the rest of the evening.
I'm more productive on the writing front today. I buckled down at 10 a.m., and ignored Vox and the internet until I deserved a reward for accomplishing something. So, only looked in a few times in the morning.
I write my novels out of sequence, and though I have 3/4 of it written, some chunks of it haven't been placed in their rightful spots in the manuscript yet. So this is what I started with today -- and have so far got a lot of floating scenes placed. Here's one of the funnest sentences I found in the scenes I was pasting in:
The hamsters on the wheel in Naomi's brain lost their footing again with an audible squeak that came out of Naomi's mouth.
After a couple of hours of that it was time to take Tumbleweed to the vet. It's a nice day, so I walked him up (35-minute walk). Now I'm back, and about to go see the penthouse-level patio in my building, with laptop under my arm, in case there's a good place to sit. I had no idea there was such a patio here, and I've lived here for four years. There was a notice about it now being open, so maybe it's the first time they've made a patio space available.
And once I'm up there, I shall get to work on a new scene, now that I've got some momentum going.
Update for the Friends of Tumbleweed, I'm glad to report the vet says his mouth looks "fantastic" and his weight is up.
I've been getting some writing done here at my friends' cottage this weekend (though not huge amounts -- I'm picking my way through the climactic last act and knitting existing bits together), and have a few FSotDs for you. In no particular order:
Shooting from the hip in, let’s face it, unfamiliar Arab robes put on just to look scary to a narrow-minded white guy, fucked big-time with all those rapid reflexes Zane had honed in training.
It could have been performance art, so stunned and uncomprehending was the silence that followed, above and below.
Somehow, having the only weapon he’d been worried about in his possession still didn’t dial Zane down off of Threat Level Apeshit.
The internet connection isn't great here, so I'll wait till I get home tomorrow to upload a great oriole photo and video of me feeding a chipmunk out of my fingers.
This is rom the edits I was making today on the novel that's coming out in the fall, not the usual one I've been working on. But I figure, hey, I spent time writing, I still get to post an FSotD:
“It’s kind of an urban legend thing. You can’t Mapquest an urban legend.”
That is all. I'm off to see Iron Man.
Fine weather day, not so fine writing day since I let a lot of hours slip by without getting a lot done. But I finally got some purchase on it once I bailed out of the apartment and took myself to a coffee shop where there was nothing to do but focus on the writing (thank dog for weak wireless internet connections).
Unless the sound of a cat kicking over a conference chair in his rapid escape from the boardroom sounded like return fire to ears effectively deafened by the first bang in an enclosed space, and set someone who shall remain nameless off again.
I always say at this point, "I might have a second FSotD later before I call it a day", but let's not tempt that fate.
Today is very sunny and spring-like in T.O. I ran a couple of errands, then parked myself in a cafe to write. I wrote this sentence, then thought of another place in the novel I can use it that will make it the absolutely perfect callback and actually laughed out loud that I came up with it.
A game of “pocket mouse” is where you find it.
And now here's a better picture of the sunny-tempered Honey. You can see her pregnant belly rather well in this one.
My recovery room is opposite my front hall closet, which has mirrored doors. So when I open the cage and sit in front of it to give her some attention and she comes out to me, she often catches sight of her reflection behind me. She stops and stares every time, because she hasn't recognized it yet. Too cute. If I'd seen her do this before I named her Honey, I'd have named her Drishti, which I've been considering for a cat anyway, because it's the Sanskrit word used it yoga for "gaze point", the spot you use to stare to keep steady while in a balance posture. But there will be other cats.
