Carnival of Harlequin, Joan Miro

So, today’s post is by my very good friend who shall remain nameless, guest posting incognito, who discovered that starting up her new iMac meant more than plugging it into the wall and hitting the ON button. There were issues…

ISSUE NUMBER 01:  The Mac power cable is only about 6 feet long which was about 2 feet shorter than how I wanted to configure it.  So I went to Target, fought my way through their parking lot, hunted down their surge protector power bars (why it needed to be next to shampoo, I’m still puzzling over), and, between the two models they had, chose the one with the 6 foot power cable, because You Never Know.  Fought my way out of the parking lot and went home.  Hooked everything up.  Took me 30 minutes to find the iMac ON button; okay, I had to resort to the manual as everything on the computer is designed to be transparent visually and tactilely.  And it didn’t turn on.  Brief meltdown while I thought that I had to repack the computer and get it to the Apple store.  Since I bought the power bar model without the ON button and light, I hooked up Boeing PC and it didn’t turn on either.  Time out for some cussing.  I returned to Target, fought my way through the parking lot, after a brief skirmish with someone unhelpful nabbed a 2 foot bus with light and ON switch, took it to Returns and made the clerk test it although she wouldn’t till the exchange was made, fought my way out of the parking lot and returned home.  iMac powered on immediately and joyously took me through a few profiling procedures, and then we arrived at the next snag.

ISSUE NUMBER 02:  A video screen appeared and showed an unflattering video of a woman who had ‘tired from Fantasy Con and November Novel’ bags under her eyes, hair in all directions from trying to tear it out over the power bus, and a wild look in her eyes from skirmishing with Target personnel and bad parking lot drivers.  Took me a minute before I realized it was Me.  Then iMac told me brightly it wanted to take my picture.  After four very bad takes, I allowed it to take a picture of the back of my head and we were finished.

Other than these two major issues, the installation was a breeze.

oh boy!

The Green Lizard, Charles Perugini

One day to go! I’m mostly packed, must print my boarding pass tonight, set up Levi’s food and water, and oh yeah, get directions to the overnight parking lot ’cause I’m leaving Junior there–usually I take a shuttle to the airport but since I’m leaving from Long Beach’s, my little Yaris can wait for me to come home. For some reason, I don’t mind leaving the car at LB’s airport but I won’t leave it at LAX’s overnight parking.

Spent the past couple days editing A HAUNTING OF ROSES and getting it ready for fresh writing in December–that’s going to be my end of the year project after NaNo. I’ve got 2010 partially planned out, already thinking about the GDR’s for next year.

Yesterday the winds gusted strongly through the Westside, sending rough billows through the building garage, strong enough to ruffle and buffle the potted palms.

Five days, zombie run free–yay!!  Hope the weather’s nice in San Jose.

coffee ink

Knave of Hearts, Maxwell Parrish

Short time for me at work this week! Vacation–going to the World Fantasy Convention in San Jose, so looking forward to that. It’s been many years since I last went to one. Three more days and I’m winging my way to San Jose. Michelle’s coming with. It’s going to be fun celebrating Edgar Allan Poe’s 200th birthday!

Yesterday, on a visit to Office Depot, found a dvd of 30 DAYS OF NIGHT, and watched it last night for the 3rd or 4th time. It’s got one of the best horror movie endings in the history of horror movie endings. Definitely tops my list of favorite horror films. That movie makes me tense no matter that I’ve viewed it at least 3 times before. Its mood, setting, the savage vampires, the heroic sheriff of the snowbound Alaska town caged in night for 30 days, and the nihilistic crucible in which the people are trapped waiting for the sun to rise again makes it impossible to watch without a chill in the gut.

Let’s see, what are my favorite horror films, in no particular order:

30 DAYS OF NIGHT

LET THE RIGHT ONE IN

ALIEN

ALIENS

THE SIXTH SENSE

STIR OF ECHOES

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

BRAM STOKER’S DRACULA

And that’s it so far. Oh yeah–I hate zombie films and will not watch them. Don’t read zombie books either. I’m fond of the undead, not the walking dead.

Met with Janet yesterday for our monthly lunch, brainstormed a short story that she’s trying to write about one of her book characters. Her latest novel is out from Whiskey Creek Press–Wanted: True Love, a humorous tale about a young witch searching for true love with no luck thanks to an amorous, dastardly warlock who placed a curse on her.

I’ve got my NaNo novel idea sketched in story notes. Created a journal for it yesterday–I like to give all my novels their own journal–and I always pick a particular artist or artistic movement to use to ornament the entries. For Castle in the Air, I’m using Maxwell Parrish’s paintings. While I wait for November, I’m back at work on A Lamentation of Swans. Sweet Taboo is in a holding pattern somewhere in the creative ether. I’m so close to the end, but can’t find the words to get me there.

Judging by the luminous fall of light through the window, looks like it’s going to be a beautifully sunny day, but don’t know if I’ll make it outside at all today. I’m weeding my overgrown garden of manuscripts and story files stuffed in copy paper boxes. I really wish I’d stop creating duplicate, triplicate, quadruplicate versions of everything!

driving to the moon

Flora, Walter Crane

So, thought it would be nice to rejoin the Fictionaires, a private writers’ group I belonged to for many years. Visions of reconnecting with writer friends and meeting new faces danced in my head like the proverbial sugar plums.  I started straight from work last night for the drive to Anaheim, had my game face on, expected tough patches and slow-going on certain freeways–had to take 4, knew it would be a bit difficult. But–holy crow! (as Bella would say).

Two hours later, crawling along on the 5 East, after crawling along on the 10 East, trapped like an ant in mud, and with one more freeway still to go, I felt like I was driving to the moon. Talk about mission impossible! No way could I leave work at 5:30 and arrive in Anaheim by 7, not even by 7:30! Henceforth, I shall refrain from making anymore such idiotic decisions!

bright penny

Muse Playing the Harp, Antoine-August-Ernest Hebert

Have 1,229 words on a new, as yet untitled, science fiction short story. It’s been a long time since I attempted science fiction, and the start of this story dates from summer 2004. Right now I’m just pushing words around on the page, looking for the path, but my character is in action and stuff is going on. I think I’ll find my way through this one.

Had a delightful weekend catching up with a treasured friend. We’ve known each other for over twenty years, in fact, next year our friendship will span a quarter of a century. We don’t live far apart–she’s just across the bridge–but we’re busy with our lives and don’t see each other as much as we’d like. We used to work for the same company, used to go clubbing together, used to visit often. Now we follow different paths, but the bright ribbon of friendship has kept us in touch through the years.

‘fraidy cat

 

For a cat who lives in the lap of luxury, Levi is as twitchy as a rabbit facing a pack of wolves. Being a repressed lap kitty, he  likes hanging out near me,  but at my slightest move, reaching for something, turning the page of my book, he jumps out of his skin. I promptly apologize, earning a beady-eyed feline stare, the equivalent of “Hey I’m walkin here!” Once he’s regained his composure, I get a paw slap and a nip for causing him to momentarily lose his dignity. Really, he forgets who pays the mortgage and keeps the water fountain and food bowl full of goodness. The cat never fails to amuse.

august peaches

During lunch yesterday, completed the first draft of THE GIRL IN THE SWAMP FOREST, 5,404 words–don’t like the title but it’ll have to do for now.

Workmen are here this morning tearing up the living room and hall floors, breaking up the black tile foyer with thunderous bangs. Stacks of  cherry wood laminate waiting to go down, providing Levi with a smooth surface to throw up on and less messy clean-up for me. Sunny outside, warming up to another gloriously golden day, and I’m working in a bit of noise and upheaval , but the floors have been on my due diligence list for a long time so I don’t mind.

So while the hammering and banging’s going on, I’m going to edit THE GIRL IN THE SWAMP before sending it off to my beta readers. I like the story very much, but the end bothers me. It’s a good ending, satisfying, I think, but maybe you can see it coming–? I’ll see what my friends think about it. May have to take it apart and try again.

I’m pleased that both THE BABY and GHOST OF ROSES have found a home. Two birds flown the nest–well, well.

loverly

It is a gorgeous day–so lovely you want to turn cartwheels in the grass. The sun is peacefully hot made balmy by breezes blowing cool off the perfectly tinted aquamarine sea. Think I’m going to have to take a walk on the bluff in a little while.  The annual Long Beach Crawfish Festival opened at noon today, the final day, and I skipped off to it, my first time going in all the years I’ve lived here. Louisiana food, footloose zydeco, and family fun–for those with families. I invited my sisters and nieces but they couldn’t make it. Maybe next year. And the annual Lobster Festival is coming up in September. I’ve never gone to that one either.

I stuffed myself on a platter of crawfish, baby potatoes and corn–two pounds of crawfish and I ate every last one (making up for not having had any since 1980-something), finished off with beignets and chicory coffee. Bon temps!

This afternoon I’m going to finish printing out the latest revised version of LOOSE DADDY. Last night before settling down to viewing the last Season 1 episode of TRUE BLOOD,  I wrote 352 words on NYRABET AND THE SWORDWOMAN,  bringing the story to 2,032 words so far. This one is unfolding slowly, no frets though.

I may look at THE GIRL IN THE SWAMP later.

Meanwhile, I’ve now run out of my favorite shows until the latest seasons become available at Netflix. SUPERNATURAL, Season 4–where are you? TRUE BLOOD, Season 2–waiting. Fortunately I’ve got MAD MEN, Season 2 comng, and my LEXX movies to watch. Oh yeah, still waiting on THE TUDORS, Season 2!

one flew the nest

Expected today to be lost. I’m about to redo the living room and hall floors and my cherry laminate was due to be delivered today, and since I was going to have to spend time schlepping it all from the curb up to the apartment, didn’t think I’d have much time to give to the manuscripts. But–and for once, it’s a good but–I had time to do agent hunting and found an agent who is seeking children’s picture books so I wrote a query and sent off HOW MOON GOT HER GLOW. Fingers crossed!

And I’ve spent the rest of the afternoon editing LOOSE DADDY. Despite the enchanting sunshine and the bright blue sky outside, and the Crawfish Festival going on at Rainbow Harbor.

As for the floor stuff, I got all my wood and things up to the apartment thanks to my handy-dandy hand truck. The delivery guy was kind enough to deliver to my garage space and I spent about 45 minutes trolleying it all upstairs. I don’t understand why 2 guys with 2 hand trucks couldn’t have done the same in less than 30. It’s not like they’re expected to pick up and carry it all with their bare hands. Besides the wood packages are not that heavy and are small, and it’s not even that much stuff! Anyway, next week I’m going to finish packing away the book shelves and all will be ready to be moved when the installers arrive. d:)

Poking through the files I found a short story I never wrote the second scene to–but the first scene is good. I think there ought to be a second. Maybe tonight.

A good day afterall.

bumper sticker

 

Boreas and Oreithyia, Evelyn De Morgan

Driving into work this morning,  405 rolling along smoothly like a good freeway ought to,  found myself behind a big four-wheel drive truck, the kind that eats Porches and little bitty cars for lunch. It sported a number of bumper stickers–one of which made me laugh: “Socialism–great idea; until you run out of other people’s money.”

Went to bed last night troubled by the difficulty I was having with a new SHADOW WALK scene, woke up this morning still troubled, started getting that abyss of despair feeling about the whole manuscript–until a little voice in the back piped up with: quit with the fretting and write it first; then you’ll have something to shoot at. That worked. Now have a halfway decent scene. Must listen to that little voice more often.

Watched three more episodes of TRUE BLOOD over the weekend. An unexpected plot twist took away one of my favorite characters–didn’t like that–but I could see the advantage of the action and how it tied into motivating the heroine to make a certain decision. Still. Hate when that happens. I’ve grown very fond of Bill–he’s full of surprises, and he’s the most vulnerable vampire I’ve ever seen on screen. I’m almost done with the first season, have two more Netflix dvd’s to view and then I’ll be grumpily waiting for the second season to become available.