Sunday, Bloody Sunday...

On a rainy, miserable day in Edinburgh, I have just finished the second rewrite on the book. Yep, the second. I thought I would be done by now--with the whole process--but it seems every time I go over it, there's either some little thing I need to address, or the writing is such crap I have to rip out my hair, then sharpen the axe (to lop words, not my head).  It's been grueling.

Some stuff I chopped was so awful it was just downright embarrassing, other stuff was good (IMO) but needed to go. The not so good part? After two rewrites, I've only cut the sheer size of this opus by 8,000 words...!!! Good god. I should be hacking it by at least 50K.  I have really tried, honestly, but the story is complicated and I can't seem to skin it to the desired 100K length.  I'm doomed.

Today Alan printed out all 434 pages for me (sacrificing two black print cartridges in the process).  So, now I can sit down and actually read it instead of editing, criticizing or groaning pitifully at the computer screen.  I tried to tell him I could change the font size to save paper and ink, but he forged ahead anyway.  See the photo below.  I could kill someone if I dropped it on their head; at the very least break a toe if I aim for their foot.

If I put the book in a format like a regular paperback, it's only about 375 pages long, which is good, normal, acceptable.  The giant stack in the photo was printed with a larger font to make it easier to edit.  In other words (and I've got plenty of those!), I'll have more room on every page to scribble notes, add highlighter marks and drip blood by the time I'm done reading.  After I change what errors I find, I'm done.  Truly.  I can't take it anymore.  Besides, I need to finish so I can get my free printed copy, my prize for winning the NaNo competition.  Assuming they'll actually let me have a free copy once they find out how long it is.  

Did I already mention that I'm doomed???

Bad Hair Day

This is one of those "so ugly, it's cute" photos. Sort of. Actually, this could be the homeliest creature ever, poor thing. Cripes, look at those teeth..!!! 

So, whenever we think our hair is bad or unruly...remember this photo girls. And, jeez, above all else: go to the dentist regularly!!!

Photo snagged from Presurfer ...one of my favorite sites for miscellaneous reading.

Stream of Consciousness...

...or how a mind works on a Sunday morning.  This is a two-fold story, with a joke at the end.

Part One --
I have a chin hair issue.  For some reason--unknown other than alien interference--I have two places on my chin that grow hairs that could get me top billing in Ripley's Believe It or Not.  Seriously.  If I let them grow no doubt I could weave beads in them and dangle them to my chest.  I've struggled with these damn things for years.  It's a normal occurrence that I can be found standing in front of the bathroom window (the brightest natural light in the house), with magnifying mirror and tweezers in hand, plucking these devil hairs from my chin.

Part Two --
I was thinking this morning, over my first cup of coffee, that I hate my blog photo and wish I had a different one.  There's probably only been a handful of photos, in my whole life, that I have liked of myself and nothing in the last decade, for sure.  The photo I put on the blog is actually a crop of this one:

Alan took it when we were last in the States of BFF Jan, Ozzy and me at Jan's granny's house.  I cropped out my head and that's the photo I've used.  Ugh.

The Joke --
This morning as we're getting ready to take Oz for his Sunday morning hike, I casually mention to Alan as I'm lacing up my boots that I wish I had a decent photo of myself.  Maybe one with me holding Ozzy, cuddled up to my neck.  You know...cute.

He says (without missing a beat), "Well yeah, then people would think it's Ozzy's hair on your chin." 

HAHAHAhahahah.  Truly, I laughed so hard I had tears running down my face.  Course, after I got myself under control, I flipped him off and called him a bastard jerk, but still.  It was a perfectly hilarious quip.  Even if it was at my expense and not my fault, due to that whole alien influence thing.

Happy St. Patrick's Day..!!!

No dancing leprechauns, pictures of the Blarney Stone or Irish castles, and definitely not even a whiff of green beer (ugh).

Just this.  What I remember most about being in Ireland.  You might have seen this photo in a blog I posted last year, but I'm showing it again because it's just soooo cool. And Irish. And it's my blog.

Trinity College, the Long Library, Dublin, Ireland.

Ramblings...

Not much going on in cloudy, windy Scotland...other than relentlessly working on the Book That Could Be Crap. I'm halfway through the rewrite and have nuked lots of paragraphs and what-was-I-thinking sentences, but it's still too long. I've reached the point where my NaNo writing stopped and my "real" writing began; what I consider the best half.  I'm worried there won't be a lot to chop. Maybe I wasn't kidding about War and Peace. Maybe the second half isn't as good as I think. Maybe I need a holiday. Buggers.

Saturday is the first day of Spring..!! That's a good thing. Unless you live in Edinburgh, then it just means the rain is a bit warmer and the wind blows from Norway not Siberia. It's nice to see the Snow Drops blooming everywhere, and in our garden the Daffs and Tulips are really starting to shoot up now.

This week I'm reading The Truth, by Terry Pratchett. Jan and I were laughing about this book the other day (she's reading it) and I couldn't resist getting a copy for myself. I sent her about a dozen of his books years ago and she's just getting around to reading them, though The Truth is more recent and I hadn't read it.

It's truly sad to think that someone with a mind so convoluted, intelligent and humorous like Terry Pratchett's will be lost to Alzheimer's. Think of the stories never to be told.

Here's an excerpt from the book that I really like:

   There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world.  There are those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this glass is half full.  And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty.
   The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say "What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass!
    And at the other end of the bar the world is full of the other type of person, who has a broken glass, or a glass that has been carelessly knocked over (usually by one of the people calling for a larger glass), or who had no glass at all, because they were at the back of the crowd and failed to catch the barman's eye.
   William was one of the glassless.

And so...what does your glass say about you?

Time Off

I've just spent the last 10 days or so reading all my TBR books and what an amazingly enjoyable time I've had.  Lucky for me the books I've gathered over the past few months, and stacked in a pile to be read, turned out to be totally great.  It's been a good break from my writing.

Now that I'm caught up on my reading, today I've started the grueling process of trying to make the first half of my book blend with the last half.  In a way, after the tremendously good books I've just been immersed in, I'm sort of intimidated.  There will never come a time when I can write like Jeaniene Frost, Kresley Cole or Nalini Singh...sigh.  Still, it gives me incentive to work harder, write better, and if I can't be like them, what the hell, I can at least get lost in their stories.

Here's what I've read over the last two weeks:

The Night Huntress Series, by Jeaniene Frost. 

The Guild Hunter Series, by Nalini Singh

 

Newest release in the Immortals After Dark Series, by Kresley Cole

Beautiful Creatures, by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl

 

Each and every one of the above titles was good.  I have only one book left in my TBR pile.  Unfortunately, I've tried at least six times to get into it and so far it's failed to grab me.  The cover is absolutely beautiful, don't know about the story.

The bad thing about finishing my TBRs: I'm going to enter the "Oh-my-god-I-don't-have-anything-to-read !!!!" stage.  I'll get twitchy, cranky, wander aimlessly around the house with deep, mournful sighs, then go berserk and either order online or make a dash to Waterstones.  Yikes, I can feel the withdrawal symptoms starting already...I think my left eyebrow has just developed a nervous tic...gotta go...