Thud: Above
Jul. 7th, 2008 11:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leahbobetJuly 7, 2008 Progress Notes:
Above
Words today: 1500.
Words total: 74,000 MS Word, 89,000 SMF.
Reason for stopping: Quota that I set for tonight, and I need to clean up after the baking.
Munchies: Pizza, limeade.
Darling du Jour: I don't have lion feet, though they're big and have claws instead of nails. I can't breathe underwater. I have scales down my back that shine iridescent, and I likely won't get children or live long as Atticus, not to forty-seven years before we put him in the ground with a wailing and singing that wasn't made small by the things we knew he did, the hurt he sowed on Corner and on Safe by the raging, frightened helplessness of his heavy, useless arms.
Words Matthew Won't Admit to Knowing: N/A
Mean Things: Everything.
Research Roundup: N/A.
Books in progress: David Devereux, Hunter's Moon.
The glamour: Garden, baked the bread I started last night, some cleaning. A notable lack of maintenance people arriving to fix my air conditioning.
Very close. Close enough to taste.
Not as close as the little meter says: there's most of a chapter still to do, big fight scene and some of the aftermath of that, but closer than I thought. Lots of things tied in tight tonight, drew themselves in and sewed up the seams. It all looks like shit to me now, but interestingly I went back to the original seven-song soundtrack for this -- Ghosts just isn't doing it for the falling action -- and it all still fit, just with different connotations. The emotional content of this song or that went over to a different character. Twists of lyrics mean different things.
I figure that's probably a good sign.
Tomorrow. Or the day after. Probably tomorrow.
Above
Words today: 1500.
Words total: 74,000 MS Word, 89,000 SMF.
| |
89,000 / 90,000 (98.9%) |
Reason for stopping: Quota that I set for tonight, and I need to clean up after the baking.
Munchies: Pizza, limeade.
Darling du Jour: I don't have lion feet, though they're big and have claws instead of nails. I can't breathe underwater. I have scales down my back that shine iridescent, and I likely won't get children or live long as Atticus, not to forty-seven years before we put him in the ground with a wailing and singing that wasn't made small by the things we knew he did, the hurt he sowed on Corner and on Safe by the raging, frightened helplessness of his heavy, useless arms.
Words Matthew Won't Admit to Knowing: N/A
Mean Things: Everything.
Research Roundup: N/A.
Books in progress: David Devereux, Hunter's Moon.
The glamour: Garden, baked the bread I started last night, some cleaning. A notable lack of maintenance people arriving to fix my air conditioning.
Very close. Close enough to taste.
Not as close as the little meter says: there's most of a chapter still to do, big fight scene and some of the aftermath of that, but closer than I thought. Lots of things tied in tight tonight, drew themselves in and sewed up the seams. It all looks like shit to me now, but interestingly I went back to the original seven-song soundtrack for this -- Ghosts just isn't doing it for the falling action -- and it all still fit, just with different connotations. The emotional content of this song or that went over to a different character. Twists of lyrics mean different things.
I figure that's probably a good sign.
Tomorrow. Or the day after. Probably tomorrow.
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