Your Questions Answered

Or rather, since you have a terrible habit of not asking any, my questions answered. Last week I left you with a few questions regarding the commencement of my First Full Draft of the current WIP.

These included whether I could write 6,000 words in a day (by hand?), whether my story plan would work out (too soon to tell), and whether I would still be able to use my left hand (pretty much).

I took the precaution of fortifying my wrist with an elastic bandage, and in order to prevent my weak eye becoming a lazy eye (I’ve caught it slacking off a few times lately) I wrapped a strip of challis around my head, covering my good eye.

WISH I HAD ME A PROPER EYE PATCH

According to the Caped Gooseberry, this made me look like a superhero. (Ever notice how you don’t get plain heroes any more? It’s super or nothing. Go big or go home, I guess.)

Whether this helped prevent distraction (it was on the window side of my head) I do not know, but I did manage to write 3,721 words. A far cry from the 6,000 I was aiming for, but a solid start nonetheless.

As the challis did such a good job, I plan to use the idea again – although since the challis itself is already doing double-duty in my wardrobe (as a sash and a bandanna) I’ve supplied myself with some other fabric to make a similar garment (garment? accessory?) from.
It’s basically black, with a grey and gold scrolling holly leaf pattern on it. Very piratical.

A lovely one-eyed redhead (IMG_3402a)

Unfortunately, the DDJ has done what its mummy always told it and shared, so I now have Ye Olde Office Cold. Here’s hoping it doesn’t turn into zombieism bronchitis again.

I suspect 6,000 words will not be an option tomorrow, or even 3,721, but I’ll do what I can. I’ll do something.
Even a tiny step forward is better than standing still, blowing your brains out through your nose…

The Artist's Way: A Sense of Catching Up

Covering July: a Sense of Connection, August: a Sense of Strength, and September: a Sense of Compassion.
Lightly covering – a crisp linen sheet, say, rather than a fat and puffy quilt.

July revealed such gems as “I believe I am getting better at socks” (knitting them, not the Pratchett kind) and “I feel more possible” (although the Caped Gooseberry assures me I am not only possible, but actual – I think my meaning may have escaped him).
Also “As a kid, we never had enough: books” (whether you can have enough books is debatable; our perceived lack drove me to read encyclopaedias and Agatha Christie at the age of six, so it’s not all bad).

Reading the encyclopedia

August asked me to complete this sentence: In a perfect world I would secretly love to be a…
All right, there’s not much secret about it, but I want to be a full-time writer.
In five years’ time, I’d like to be writing full time with one novel published and two plays produced.
What can I do now to help make that happen?
Write hard on Mondays. Make the most of morning spaces. Get to bed on time.

I was also invited to select a role model. The three women who sprang to mind are not only among my favourite writers (international women of mystery) but are also all three writers who balanced novels and the theatre in some way or another: Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh and Dorothy Sayers.

mystery of marie roget set

The one woman who sprang to mind whom I most certainly do not wish to take for my pattern is P.D. James – at least having a DDJ until reaching retirement age. In the areas of literary achievement, faith and perseverance (not to mention the life peerage) I’d be most happy to follow her example.

Also, if I was a colour, I’d be russet: colour of earth and blood, rich cloth and poor, and the bindings of old books. The colour of autumn leaves, the colour of rust.

September brought an insight – I should stop calling myself lazy. I wrote “you may be scared, self-doubting and self-flagellating, feeling tired, heartsick and guilty – but you are not lazy.”

Procrastination isn’t the result of laziness, Cameron says. It’s the result of fear.  “Fear is what blocks an artist. The fear of not being good enough. The fear of not finishing. The fear of failure and of success. The fear of beginning at all.” (p.152)

There's no fear in love.

Another insight: “Over any extended period of time, being an artist requires enthusiasm more than discipline. Enthusiasm is not an emotional state. It is a spiritual commitment…” (p.153).

Much like marriage: you can’t stay in the same emotional state for 50 years, you need commitment. But commitment shouldn’t be replaced by discipline (hug two three! kiss two three!) because discipline isn’t rooted in love – except perhaps in love with how wonderfully disciplined we are!

The trick is to find our enthusiasm for the task at hand – and how to find it quickly in the pre-dawn dark when getting out of the nice warm bed seems like a particularly sadistic rebirthing technique.

As always, your wisdom welcomed! Or witty folly (better a witty fool than a foolish wit) – we’re not fussy here!

Sinistra Inksteynehand250

Moving House

Moving house New Zealand style

Or to be more accurate, moving household – the respective houses are staying put. Inasmuch as anything stays put when we keep having earthquakes over 6.0 on the Richter scale.

Yes, the Caped Gooseberry and I are moving house(hold), in just a couple of weeks. It had been a possibility for a while, but it wasn’t settled until a week ago. So now we have two weeks to get everything sorted and ready to go.

Sorted van!

I’ve got leave from the DDJ for the day before we move (I’m not completely insane), but other than that I’m working full time until the day itself (like I said, not completely).

It’s not as though I’ve never done it before, I moved house frequently through most of my life. We once moved three times in three days, and I was fourteen before I spent twelve consecutive months in the same house.

But things have changed since then. I grew up, I got married, and I got furniture. Time was I had a bag of clothes, a box of toys and my school stuff. That time is gone.

Let's Do 52 :: 24/52 :: Pastel

On the other hand, I am (for the first time) going to have movers pack for me. I have no idea how you move house without doing your own packing – just as I have no idea how you do a thorough spring-clean without moving out (doesn’t all the stuff get in the way?).

So, what are your tips for keeping sane while moving house(hold)? And what’s a low-stress way to sort out your stuff and prune the dead wood away?

All comments welcome!