August 2004


I didn’t make it into the second round of the screenwriting competition.
Which dampens my faith in that script not even slightly. Dot Com rocks. It’s the best movie script ever. It’s young, it’s hip, it’s screamingly funny, and someone should buy it. I have spoken.
In other news, packing is the suck. I just thought I would share that brilliant insight into the human condition with you.

Squee! I just bought the cutest house in the history of the known universe!
In a Waffle House. (Atlanta, y’all.)
I’m going to go hyperventilate now. Over a celebration dinner. Squee!

Rereading through “Grandfather Paradox,” I think the timeline needs a bit of a twist. I think it’s a bit too linear for this particular tale. And I still think it’s an Analog story, although that’s really Dr. Schmidt’s call and not mine, and the only test that matters.
It’s also in much better shape than “Book of Shadows” (which is the working title of the nightmare story). So “Grandfather Paradox” definitely needs to be worked on first.
You know, nothing really improves a misbehaving story like ripening over time.

Between attempting to buy a house (OMG don’t ask! so evil!) and wrestling with a software package of evil for work (I came, I saw, I kicked its ass!), I have been getting darned near no writing done. Shame on me! In fact, I’m so exhausted that I’ve been going to bed early. On the other hand, I’ve finished the software package of evil install in all the rooms where they wanted it. Maybe I could sneak in some writing on the job. Bwahahaha.
We have acquired new kittens, brother and sister that we have named Pan and Pandora. Because they look startlingly like the rest of the tribe, they seem to be being accepted easily.
I plan to hit up my coworkers for free lunch. Mwahahaha. After all, I did smite the evil software install…

Should I be deeply saddened that the people most interested in my writing blog are @#@()* spammers?
Listen, spammers. Give it up. Stop wasting my time. Stop wasting your time. I have comment notification turned on. I’m here to promote my writing career, not \/1@G|R@. Deal with it.
Ooh, shiny MT plugin directory. *quickly averts eyes* I could spend way too much time geeking with that stuff…

We went to Lowe’s to pick up a few things and fondle the building materials (especially flooring, because I loathe the barf-brown carpets), and, um…
I have expensive taste. No, really. Yikes. It’s a good thing I’m planning on keeping my day job, ’cause… yeah. I want to rip out all the flooring and bathroom fixtures. Movie check. Yeah. A movie check would buy expensive materials. 😉

And for my birthday, I may be buying a house.
Well, “may.” I’m approved. And very anxious! Buying a house is scary stuff! It requires enough paperwork to choke a woolly mammoth! Oh, God, I know that at the actual closing I’m going to feel like one of the TV actors at Dragoncon… sign sign sign sign sign sign… My friend Joan said she got writer’s cramp.
Mortgage Man is my boyfriend’s uncle’s wife’s coworker. I like him much better in person than I did on the phone. I suspect he feels the same way, as he seemed to grok my sense of humor better in person. No, I can’t be serious, not really. Maybe for the length of time it takes to tell a short story, but any longer than that, no, it is like humor Tourette’s. But I digress.
I suppose that’s the best birthday present ever, although I’d really like someone to take me to Café Sunflower. Hint. Hint, hint.
House. *freaks slightly, but in that good way*

From The Life of Charlotte Bronte, by Elizabeth Gaskell:

As a forlorn hope, we tried one publishing house more. Ere long, in a much shorter space than that on which experience had taught him to calculate, there came a letter, which he opened in the dreary anticipation of finding two hard hopeless lines, intimating that “Messrs. Smith and Elder were not disposed to publish the MS.,” and, instead, he took out of the envelope a letter of two pages. He read it trembling. It declined, indeed, to publish that tale, for business reasons, but it discussed its merits and demerits, so courteously, so considerately, in a spirit so rational, with a discrimination so enlightened, that this very refusal cheered the author better than a vulgarly-expressed acceptance would have done. It was added, that a work in three volumes would meet with careful attention.

I just received a very encouraging rejection. It included a three-line critique, including a description of what the reader liked and disliked about the story. Yay!
This story also got a “there’s some nice writing here” from another editor.
I’ve been trying to find ways to tell myself that each rejection is a positive sign, that somehow there is evidence that I’m “almost there.” Lately I’ve had the yucky suspicion that I’ve been deluding myself, but no, today I really, truly feel like I am “almost there.”
Thank you, Karen. It means a lot.