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(One day I will publish this book and you will all come back and read that subject line and understand precisely what it means, and the click and snap of it coming together will make you sit up with total delight.
Wait for it.
Punchline only a few years in the making.)
Saturnalia
Words today: 250.
Words total: 2750.
Reason for stopping: It's late. And all the good work tonight was in planning, not in the words going down on the page.
Munchies: Avgolemono.
Darling du Jour: They filled bottles. Capped 'em. The fridge wasn't working no more, but Zeke put them in anyways, stacking them up in neat little rows. It eased the snarl in his chest that playing hadn't touched. He glanced over to the couch, where the little girl's hair spilled over the arm like cinnamon schnapps diving forever for the carpet. Even the creak of wind didn't move her.
Things Yet to Cough Up Their Names: Gregory's last name, Miss Shirley Sue MacGuffin.
Mean Things: Signs point to Zeke experiencing drug-induced blackouts.
Research Roundup: resurrectionists, body-snatching, butterfly and moth anatomy, red alcohol, technical definition of session musicians.
Best research bit tonight:
Books in progress: Jeffrey Ford, The Memoranda.
The glamour: I gave my notice today at the bookstore. This was my last Friday shift, and I've been working that Friday shift for four years.
I'm keeping the Saturdays for at least two more weeks. One has to ease into quitting one's dream job.
I was telling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stillnotbored tonight how writing this book is, so far, like divination. I have about a dozen songs, three or four videos/images, and some rather concrete ideas about theme and tone. And I spread them all out on the table and try to find the connections.
The crazy thing? It's working.
(This is the way the world ends. With a twist of gears, and silence.)
Wait for it.
Punchline only a few years in the making.)
Saturnalia
Words today: 250.
Words total: 2750.
Reason for stopping: It's late. And all the good work tonight was in planning, not in the words going down on the page.
Munchies: Avgolemono.
Darling du Jour: They filled bottles. Capped 'em. The fridge wasn't working no more, but Zeke put them in anyways, stacking them up in neat little rows. It eased the snarl in his chest that playing hadn't touched. He glanced over to the couch, where the little girl's hair spilled over the arm like cinnamon schnapps diving forever for the carpet. Even the creak of wind didn't move her.
Things Yet to Cough Up Their Names: Gregory's last name, Miss Shirley Sue MacGuffin.
Mean Things: Signs point to Zeke experiencing drug-induced blackouts.
Research Roundup: resurrectionists, body-snatching, butterfly and moth anatomy, red alcohol, technical definition of session musicians.
Best research bit tonight:
In Montreal during the winter of 1875, typhoid struck at a convent school. The corpses of the victims were filched by body-snatchers before relatives arrived from America, causing an international scandal.[5] Eventually the Anatomy Act of Quebec is amended to prevent a recurrence, effectively ending medical body-snatching in Quebec.
Books in progress: Jeffrey Ford, The Memoranda.
The glamour: I gave my notice today at the bookstore. This was my last Friday shift, and I've been working that Friday shift for four years.
I'm keeping the Saturdays for at least two more weeks. One has to ease into quitting one's dream job.
I was telling
stillnotbored tonight how writing this book is, so far, like divination. I have about a dozen songs, three or four videos/images, and some rather concrete ideas about theme and tone. And I spread them all out on the table and try to find the connections.The crazy thing? It's working.
(This is the way the world ends. With a twist of gears, and silence.)
