So, to add to my ever growing iPad addiction, I've found a blogging app. Since I'm writing this post at work, I thought I'd use it instead of my work computer. The danger in this approach is that I've discovered that the iPad likes to think it can read my mind and arbitrarily changes words for me. That might be why I emailed a co-worker last week and told here I was ready to talk about snakes when she was fresh. I meant sales when she was free. Anyhow...
It may be early to make this claim but to date the blog is a success. At least if my measure of success is the number of phone calls/messages I'm getting from people checking in to make sure I'm sticking to my goals. Both my aunt and sister-in-law seem determined to keep me on my toes. Thanks! I'm not complaining. If the measure of success to date is if I've accomplished what I've set out to do, then I'm currently at 50%.
Saturday, as I noted, was a bust (in more ways than one since I did go bra shopping on Saturday). But Sunday proved much more fruitful. In the long run. Because here's what happened 20 seconds after I posted yesterday morning. The borrowed dog started barking.
You can't want to go out again, I said to the dog. We just came in.
Woof.
Seriously, I have writing to do. Go lie down.
Woof woof. (followed by a spasmodic circular dance by the door)
Shush. Don't wake Reg.
WOOF WOOF WOOF
So out we went where it turned out she really did have to go out. Really. Really. Go.
Once we'd walked far enough that mom and dad's house was closer than ours,we kept going. Returning the dog turned into coffee and play with my nephew which turned into pancakes which turned into "Dad! It's nearly 11. Please drive me home!"
Now in days of old I would have let this stop me. But not now. Because I'd wasted Saturday, Sunday had to amount to something. I sent the hubby upstairs with firm instructions not to come down until I said so. He's very obliging, maybe because he's under the delusion that I'm going to make enough money so that he won't have to work again. Silly man.
Anyway, I sat there thinking about what to write. Jump into a new chapter? Work on the outline? Or just let the fingers do my thinking and see what happens. I don't often take this approach because it can be risky. I did that once on a short story that was supposed to be about the worry of a woman whose husband was lost at sea, and it turned into a story about werewolves!
But yesterday it worked. I turned on my fancy Jane Austen font (it's hard to read but helps get me in the right frame of mind) and started thinking like my male lead. Two and a half pages later I'd met my goal, figured out a critical part of the backstory and gotten a better understanding of one secondary character. Success!
Since I'm a weekend writer, there likely won't be any more goals made till later this week. Sadly, my weeks are full of work writing and my brain hurts too much to think about the novel once I get home. But stay turned for next weekend. After all, an online fortune cookie generator just told me: you are given the chance to take part in an exciting adventure.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It may be early to make this claim but to date the blog is a success. At least if my measure of success is the number of phone calls/messages I'm getting from people checking in to make sure I'm sticking to my goals. Both my aunt and sister-in-law seem determined to keep me on my toes. Thanks! I'm not complaining. If the measure of success to date is if I've accomplished what I've set out to do, then I'm currently at 50%.
Saturday, as I noted, was a bust (in more ways than one since I did go bra shopping on Saturday). But Sunday proved much more fruitful. In the long run. Because here's what happened 20 seconds after I posted yesterday morning. The borrowed dog started barking.
You can't want to go out again, I said to the dog. We just came in.
Woof.
Seriously, I have writing to do. Go lie down.
Woof woof. (followed by a spasmodic circular dance by the door)
Shush. Don't wake Reg.
WOOF WOOF WOOF
So out we went where it turned out she really did have to go out. Really. Really. Go.
Once we'd walked far enough that mom and dad's house was closer than ours,we kept going. Returning the dog turned into coffee and play with my nephew which turned into pancakes which turned into "Dad! It's nearly 11. Please drive me home!"
Now in days of old I would have let this stop me. But not now. Because I'd wasted Saturday, Sunday had to amount to something. I sent the hubby upstairs with firm instructions not to come down until I said so. He's very obliging, maybe because he's under the delusion that I'm going to make enough money so that he won't have to work again. Silly man.
Anyway, I sat there thinking about what to write. Jump into a new chapter? Work on the outline? Or just let the fingers do my thinking and see what happens. I don't often take this approach because it can be risky. I did that once on a short story that was supposed to be about the worry of a woman whose husband was lost at sea, and it turned into a story about werewolves!
But yesterday it worked. I turned on my fancy Jane Austen font (it's hard to read but helps get me in the right frame of mind) and started thinking like my male lead. Two and a half pages later I'd met my goal, figured out a critical part of the backstory and gotten a better understanding of one secondary character. Success!
Since I'm a weekend writer, there likely won't be any more goals made till later this week. Sadly, my weeks are full of work writing and my brain hurts too much to think about the novel once I get home. But stay turned for next weekend. After all, an online fortune cookie generator just told me: you are given the chance to take part in an exciting adventure.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad