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Mar. 10th, 2003 07:49 pmMmm. ::waving:: I feel like I've been gone for a while; I said to Anna that I've been in a state of voluntary mutism, and that's close to the mark. Have had a number of entries/mini-essays sketched out in my head, but just haven't gotten them into words; the gears haven't been engaged or grinding forward purposefully.
Which isn't to say that I haven't been *writing*; I've been moving forward pretty steadily on the new story. The first 7,000 words or so are essentially done, and I like them; the ending is completely mapped out, and I have at least a sketchy idea of everything that happens between beginning and end. This will end up being roughly as long as the last thing I wrote (alas), but different in almost every other respect. Well, except that it's still Fraser 1st-person POV; I will certainly someday get to the point where I can no longer handle living in Fraser's head, but I hope it doesn't happen until I'm done with this thing. He continues to fascinate me, for the time being.
Oddly, the writing--these self-indulgent fantasies about television characters, this somewhat embarrassing preoccupation--feels like the one point of stability in my life these days. Everything else in the universe feels a bit teetery, phantasmal, imperiled.
It is cold here, still--was seven below zero when I got up this morning. But I think that might have been our last sub-zero morning of the season; the forecast is that we should be in the 50s, maybe nudging 60, by the weekend. I am ready for this; I have, as they say, *been* ready. The cold has made me hermetic this winter, insular and asocial. I need to get the hell out of the house, away from the computer once in a while.
Does *every* sentence in this freakin' entry have a semicolon in it? *Jeez.* Fling open the windows and let the fresh air in, willya, Kat?
Which isn't to say that I haven't been *writing*; I've been moving forward pretty steadily on the new story. The first 7,000 words or so are essentially done, and I like them; the ending is completely mapped out, and I have at least a sketchy idea of everything that happens between beginning and end. This will end up being roughly as long as the last thing I wrote (alas), but different in almost every other respect. Well, except that it's still Fraser 1st-person POV; I will certainly someday get to the point where I can no longer handle living in Fraser's head, but I hope it doesn't happen until I'm done with this thing. He continues to fascinate me, for the time being.
Oddly, the writing--these self-indulgent fantasies about television characters, this somewhat embarrassing preoccupation--feels like the one point of stability in my life these days. Everything else in the universe feels a bit teetery, phantasmal, imperiled.
It is cold here, still--was seven below zero when I got up this morning. But I think that might have been our last sub-zero morning of the season; the forecast is that we should be in the 50s, maybe nudging 60, by the weekend. I am ready for this; I have, as they say, *been* ready. The cold has made me hermetic this winter, insular and asocial. I need to get the hell out of the house, away from the computer once in a while.
Does *every* sentence in this freakin' entry have a semicolon in it? *Jeez.* Fling open the windows and let the fresh air in, willya, Kat?