years go by
Dec. 30th, 2011 02:17 pmWhat a year. I mean, I got married, and that was about the least interesting of the three Interesting Things I did.
( interesting... )
( interesting... )
the writing bit
Nov. 5th, 2011 03:47 amBleh, insomnia during a head cold. I'm just barely too muzzy-headed to do anything useful, and it's not like I'm getting any sleep. May as well finish and post this.
So, in addition to an awful lot of fine writing advice, some excellent company, and insightful if sometimes contradictory critiques of my submission story, I got one more thing out of Viable Paradise: I wrote a story under a strict deadline.
The story I wrote was, word for word, the hardest thing I've ever written. "Catastrophic global warming," they say, "rigorous extrapolation of hard science," they say, "hopeful and non-post-apocalyptic," they say; "bah," sez I. Thankfully I had a bunch of other people around who were in similar boats, and we could all sit around and type madly and grumble at each other.
(It turns out writing's easier in good company. I don't know if it's the shared task, or just the sense that other people are writing and therefore my brain says it's Okay for me to be writing, and in fact I'd better be writing so I can Fit In. O, brain.)
Most of what I learned from the experience can be summed up in a conversation I had around lunchtime on Thursday:
![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aamcnamara: How's your story coming?
Me: ... do me a favor? Tell me it doesn't suck?
aamcnamara (who has read none of this story): It doesn't suck.
And, you know, that helped, more than I'd expected it to. I knew it had problems. The plot wasn't a plot so much as "some stuff happens to the characters in the middle of a conversation," the theme was thin, etc etc. But it also had things I do well. Dialogue. The rhythm and flow of the prose. Bits of characterization, hints of worldbuilding. It doesn't suck, not entirely, not even when I'm struggling and flailing. I can do this.
That, I'm pretty sure, is the most important thing I brought out of that week.
So, in addition to an awful lot of fine writing advice, some excellent company, and insightful if sometimes contradictory critiques of my submission story, I got one more thing out of Viable Paradise: I wrote a story under a strict deadline.
The story I wrote was, word for word, the hardest thing I've ever written. "Catastrophic global warming," they say, "rigorous extrapolation of hard science," they say, "hopeful and non-post-apocalyptic," they say; "bah," sez I. Thankfully I had a bunch of other people around who were in similar boats, and we could all sit around and type madly and grumble at each other.
(It turns out writing's easier in good company. I don't know if it's the shared task, or just the sense that other people are writing and therefore my brain says it's Okay for me to be writing, and in fact I'd better be writing so I can Fit In. O, brain.)
Most of what I learned from the experience can be summed up in a conversation I had around lunchtime on Thursday:
aamcnamara: How's your story coming?Me: ... do me a favor? Tell me it doesn't suck?
aamcnamara (who has read none of this story): It doesn't suck.And, you know, that helped, more than I'd expected it to. I knew it had problems. The plot wasn't a plot so much as "some stuff happens to the characters in the middle of a conversation," the theme was thin, etc etc. But it also had things I do well. Dialogue. The rhythm and flow of the prose. Bits of characterization, hints of worldbuilding. It doesn't suck, not entirely, not even when I'm struggling and flailing. I can do this.
That, I'm pretty sure, is the most important thing I brought out of that week.
(no subject)
Oct. 15th, 2011 09:02 amThe six-word four-punctuation-mark Viable Paradise report: ...so, that happened. And was awesome.
More when I've gotten more sleep. Or maybe this afternoon waiting at the Martha's Vineyard airport.
("Sittin' here in limbo, waitin' for my plane to fly / I been sittin' here in limbo, knowin' that the winds are high / Cold front's puttin' up resistance / but I know that my pilot's gonna try")
More when I've gotten more sleep. Or maybe this afternoon waiting at the Martha's Vineyard airport.
("Sittin' here in limbo, waitin' for my plane to fly / I been sittin' here in limbo, knowin' that the winds are high / Cold front's puttin' up resistance / but I know that my pilot's gonna try")
off on a Grand Adventure!
Oct. 8th, 2011 08:23 pmI've packed writing implements both electronic and manual, and I've acquired Official Canadian Bribery for my post-VP host, and the house is clean-ish for uilos's return on Monday. I think I'm ready to go. Anything I've forgotten will doubtless occur to me once I'm out the door.
Not that I've been all that great about keeping in touch with anyone recently, but it's going to be worse for the next week and a half.
uilos's return on Monday. I think I'm ready to go. Anything I've forgotten will doubtless occur to me once I'm out the door.Not that I've been all that great about keeping in touch with anyone recently, but it's going to be worse for the next week and a half.
autumnizing
Oct. 7th, 2011 10:27 amSent out the last of the post-office saving letters earlier this week. So if you've not gotten one by, say, this time next week, and you ought to have, let me know.
At Crooked Timber, commenter Lemuel Pitkin on Steve Jobs:
In related news, I preordered the Device Mark 2 this morning. (Delivery estimate: 1-2 weeks. Which is okay; if it got here on the release date I wouldn't be around to play with it anyway.) The Device has served me well for nearly three years, but between the inexorable march of technology and the flaky headphone jack (and AT&T's obscene refusal to allow me to use a device that I purchased with any other carrier), it's time for it to take a well-deserved retirement.
Restless lately. Fall out here is made of Wet, which doesn't make for much in the way of scuffly leaves, and it's harder to get excited about going out in the damp. Too, I'm half eagerly awaiting VP/Boston and half thinking "wait, how can it be october already, i'm not nearly prepared for this." Impostor syndrome is kicking in like nobody's business.
But the mist is nestling in among the tops of the trees in Stanley Park, and I seem to have gotten enough sleep last night, and Portal 2 was on sale earlier this week. And, you know, tomorrow I get on a plane to spend a week with a bunch of awesome people, and then a couple of days with different but still awesome people. Life is decent.
At Crooked Timber, commenter Lemuel Pitkin on Steve Jobs:
Worth noting that in all the tributes to Steve Jobs, nobody is saying "He was a rational agent who maximized the present value of his lifetime consumption, and would have wrecked his company in a second if he thought that would net him a dollar more. We will continue running Apple to generate the maximum profits for shareholders, whether that means putting out great products, putting out crappy products, or liquidating the whole thing." Instead, they all talk—sincerely I'm sure—about his commitment and dedication to his work, and say things like "his spirit will forever be the foundation of Apple." It’s a nice illustration of how capitalism’s biggest success stories are really arguments against capitalism.(see also ajay @32)
In related news, I preordered the Device Mark 2 this morning. (Delivery estimate: 1-2 weeks. Which is okay; if it got here on the release date I wouldn't be around to play with it anyway.) The Device has served me well for nearly three years, but between the inexorable march of technology and the flaky headphone jack (and AT&T's obscene refusal to allow me to use a device that I purchased with any other carrier), it's time for it to take a well-deserved retirement.
Restless lately. Fall out here is made of Wet, which doesn't make for much in the way of scuffly leaves, and it's harder to get excited about going out in the damp. Too, I'm half eagerly awaiting VP/Boston and half thinking "wait, how can it be october already, i'm not nearly prepared for this." Impostor syndrome is kicking in like nobody's business.
But the mist is nestling in among the tops of the trees in Stanley Park, and I seem to have gotten enough sleep last night, and Portal 2 was on sale earlier this week. And, you know, tomorrow I get on a plane to spend a week with a bunch of awesome people, and then a couple of days with different but still awesome people. Life is decent.
( written last night, but not posted 'til today by staff request )
So, um, yeah. That happened.
(And now I'm having vague notions of stopping off in Boston for a day or two before or after October 9-15, because, hey, people.)
So, um, yeah. That happened.
(And now I'm having vague notions of stopping off in Boston for a day or two before or after October 9-15, because, hey, people.)
I haven't been writing much. Life stress plus stuck on story plus moving stress equals about halfway (the easy half) through with the revision process.
But now it turns out there's a late-game replacement instructor at Viable Paradise.
Dammit. Now I /have/ to finish that %&$ story and get my application in. I may not make the cut but if I don't at least try this year I'll never be able to look myself in the eye again. Which would make shaving difficult.
But now it turns out there's a late-game replacement instructor at Viable Paradise.
Dammit. Now I /have/ to finish that %&$ story and get my application in. I may not make the cut but if I don't at least try this year I'll never be able to look myself in the eye again. Which would make shaving difficult.
Blocked:
(None of this is intended as a slight to anyone else who may have been diagnosed ADD. It's a Real Problem for a lot of people. I'm only looking at whether it was the problem in my specific case.)
These days? There's something going on there, something that makes focusing incredibly difficult without an external deadline, and trivial when the deadline's imminent.
(Self-imposed deadlines have less force. I hate that.)
And I'm tired of how much effort it takes to start writing. I'm tired of sitting down intending to get the next scene done, and having this bit in my brain that doesn't even bother talking to the rest of me about what's going on and instead just holes up with a mindless computer game for an hour or two.
I don't know myself well enough to say whether I'm afraid of writing. It's got an awful lot of baggage associated with it; maybe I'm afraid that may parents were right (and if they were right on that then what else might they have been right on? TERROR).
I don't know what to do about any of this, other than to name it.
No deadline this time, just a reward: when I finish the (current draft of the) space story, and ship it off to VP, I can write a (fun! or at least exciting) letter that I've been contemplating for the last couple of days.
That ought to be enough incentive. I hope.
"For a long time, I considered myself ADD and dreamed of a pill that could make it alright. But the longer I write, the more I think my problems have less to do with ADD, and more to do with my desire to avoid pain.I was diagnosed ADD in elementary school, and put on Ritalin for a few years. At this point I'm willing to believe that it wasn't that I couldn't concentrate, it's that I didn't want to. There wasn't any point to it. The reward for doing the work was either more work, or getting to go play-- and it was easy enough to just go play without doing the work, especially once "playing" and "reading" became interchangeable.
It's painful to write. It's painful to take a clear look at your finances, at your health, at your relationships. At least it's painful when you have no confidence that you can actually improve in those areas. I would not speak for anyone else, but most of my distractions (and I said this at SXSW) are traceable to a deep-seated fear that I may not ultimately prevail.
(None of this is intended as a slight to anyone else who may have been diagnosed ADD. It's a Real Problem for a lot of people. I'm only looking at whether it was the problem in my specific case.)
These days? There's something going on there, something that makes focusing incredibly difficult without an external deadline, and trivial when the deadline's imminent.
(Self-imposed deadlines have less force. I hate that.)
And I'm tired of how much effort it takes to start writing. I'm tired of sitting down intending to get the next scene done, and having this bit in my brain that doesn't even bother talking to the rest of me about what's going on and instead just holes up with a mindless computer game for an hour or two.
I don't know myself well enough to say whether I'm afraid of writing. It's got an awful lot of baggage associated with it; maybe I'm afraid that may parents were right (and if they were right on that then what else might they have been right on? TERROR).
I don't know what to do about any of this, other than to name it.
No deadline this time, just a reward: when I finish the (current draft of the) space story, and ship it off to VP, I can write a (fun! or at least exciting) letter that I've been contemplating for the last couple of days.
That ought to be enough incentive. I hope.
damn you, space story
Mar. 10th, 2011 10:30 amI can't just file off the rough edges and send it in with the current structure. I can't. I've been trying for weeks and all I can see is how it's wrong, wrong, wrong.
So instead I'm trying to rewrite the damned thing. Which is emphatically not how I wanted to spend my writing time for the next couple of weeks.
I have a pretty good idea of how to restructure it, anyway. It's only got three bits that will be difficult to pare down to a single viewpoint. One can probably be dispensed with altogether, and I've figured out how to make a second work. It's the third, the visceral "oh my god" moment, that's going to be difficult.
Oh well. If it was easy everyone would be doing it.
Goal: in the mail to Viable Paradise by 3/18.
Reward: ... I get to go down to Richmond and explain touilos's parents that we're moving across three thousand miles and an international border? Yeah. I'll come up with something.
So instead I'm trying to rewrite the damned thing. Which is emphatically not how I wanted to spend my writing time for the next couple of weeks.
I have a pretty good idea of how to restructure it, anyway. It's only got three bits that will be difficult to pare down to a single viewpoint. One can probably be dispensed with altogether, and I've figured out how to make a second work. It's the third, the visceral "oh my god" moment, that's going to be difficult.
Oh well. If it was easy everyone would be doing it.
Goal: in the mail to Viable Paradise by 3/18.
Reward: ... I get to go down to Richmond and explain to
uilos's parents that we're moving across three thousand miles and an international border? Yeah. I'll come up with something."please upgrade your system."
Jun. 17th, 2010 03:35 pmTime was, I had one computer. If I wanted to do anything online, I'd power up the desktop. (I didn't leave it running all the time because it has a half-dozen fans in it, and it lived in my bedroom, and that was more noise than I really wanted when I'm sleeping.)
Now, for a variety of reasons, I do practically all my at-home computing with the laptop on the couch, or sometimes on the other couch. This means I'm not getting any use out of my clicky keyboard or awesome trackball, and am thus consistently frustrated in small ways by the keyboard layout. On the other hand, it's kind of nice to do simple stuff in the evening sacked out on a couch.
Some of the simple stuff can be done on the Device: email, FB, blowing up skeletons. Even LJ /can/ be done there, as can chat; it's just slow and awkward. Chat especially. (There's a scene in Y: The Last Man where the ninja assassin says "You understand Japanese! Thank god! I sound like a moron when I speak English." That's about how I feel after trying to type on the Device.)
Ideally, when I move I'll get a better desk chair and start using my desktop again. (This may require a new desktop system, since the current one is, um, elderly. I think its last upgrade was in 2004. I know for a fact it's still running Windows 2000.) For lazy evening couch-based surfing, I'll acquire an iPad, since in theory the bigger screen and the 'multitasking' OS update this fall will fix most of my complaints with the Device. And it can be decent for typing on, too, if I use the Neo and the camera kit.
I've been saying "i'll wait until the second model" for months now. And I keep weakening.
Today's the seventeenth of June. I've got exactly thirteen days before the end of the month, and the deadline for Viable Paradise. I'd meant to apply this year; heck, I'd meant to have "Junkyard Dog" and one more thing complete by 1 January, but Life and the sluggish pace of my writing at the best of times intervened. So, a blatant attempt at manipulative motivation: if I can finish either of the things I'm halfheartedly working on by then, and get them in email with a coverletter, I get an iPad. (16GB, because that's all the space I need; wi-fi only, because I don't want to muck with having to switch carriers and such after I move.)
We shall see.
Now, for a variety of reasons, I do practically all my at-home computing with the laptop on the couch, or sometimes on the other couch. This means I'm not getting any use out of my clicky keyboard or awesome trackball, and am thus consistently frustrated in small ways by the keyboard layout. On the other hand, it's kind of nice to do simple stuff in the evening sacked out on a couch.
Some of the simple stuff can be done on the Device: email, FB, blowing up skeletons. Even LJ /can/ be done there, as can chat; it's just slow and awkward. Chat especially. (There's a scene in Y: The Last Man where the ninja assassin says "You understand Japanese! Thank god! I sound like a moron when I speak English." That's about how I feel after trying to type on the Device.)
Ideally, when I move I'll get a better desk chair and start using my desktop again. (This may require a new desktop system, since the current one is, um, elderly. I think its last upgrade was in 2004. I know for a fact it's still running Windows 2000.) For lazy evening couch-based surfing, I'll acquire an iPad, since in theory the bigger screen and the 'multitasking' OS update this fall will fix most of my complaints with the Device. And it can be decent for typing on, too, if I use the Neo and the camera kit.
I've been saying "i'll wait until the second model" for months now. And I keep weakening.
Today's the seventeenth of June. I've got exactly thirteen days before the end of the month, and the deadline for Viable Paradise. I'd meant to apply this year; heck, I'd meant to have "Junkyard Dog" and one more thing complete by 1 January, but Life and the sluggish pace of my writing at the best of times intervened. So, a blatant attempt at manipulative motivation: if I can finish either of the things I'm halfheartedly working on by then, and get them in email with a coverletter, I get an iPad. (16GB, because that's all the space I need; wi-fi only, because I don't want to muck with having to switch carriers and such after I move.)
We shall see.
