Ramblings from the 'goblinn

Okay, So I've been gone a lot. I have read back at times, and commented when I wasn't too out of date. I can't promise I'll be here any more regularly, but I can't promise I won't get hit by a bus tomorrow, either.

( So. Here's today. )

Wee Hob turns 17 in April, 13 months after 2nd son. Will have to relate some of his adventures in another post. Unless I get hit by that bus.

How are all of you?

I couldn't figure out why I've been in such foul temper all weekend. Yesterday, I could see it-- insufficient caffeine, 5 hours of mind numbing boredom in a training class for fundraiser groups to work concessions stands at Reds games, 4.5 hours of which was spent wondering what on Earth had possessed me to agree to said fundraiser, when I could make more money working the same number of weddings (and spend a Lot less time). And it was cold and rainy.

But today I slept late, had a beautiful dream involving having an confrontation with the Good Monsignor, and had plenty of coffee, but I was still short tempered and on edge all day. So much so that I didn't even make Wee Hob go to mass tonight. I probably could have gotten him to, but the decision was less about fighting with him to get ready than it was about Not wanting to get into an actual confrontation with said Good Monsignor about That Boy being in the building with (possibly) no "acceptable" overseer sitting right next to him in the pew. Honestly, in the mood I was in today, I thought there might be "killins". Or something. So hey, if the Good Monsignor wanted me to feel welcome with my kid in his church, he has failed on an epic scale. Yes, I am immature. Your point?

But talking with my Fearless Leader before mass, it suddenly hit me. Oh. Yeah. My eldest son was born on Palm Sunday, 16 years ago this year. The actual date is about a month hence, but still. Funny how those anniversary dates work, isn't it?. Anyway, after some lovely singing, and a couple of hugs and prayers, I felt loads better. And a bottle of Sam Adams Scotch Ale with dinner didn't hurt, either.

I do hope zeegrindylows updates De Profundis on schedule tonight sometime-- that fic is really eating away at my imagination as only really good stories or intriguing premeses tend to for me. I find myself spending more time daydreaming scenarios for her fic than for one of mine in progress. Which, by the way, should be up by next weekend-- I have one beta out of town until Tuesday, and thought I'd spend the time polishing the section and starting on the next before putting it up for both of them at once.

Should be a busy week-- Tuesday night Chrism Mass, Good Friday service, and Easter. Luckily I'm not technically in Choir right now, or it would be Holy Thursday, another Good Friday service and Easter Vigil as well. Ah well. Maybe next year. I may pinch hit on Easter morning if I'm asked to. One good thing about a repertory chorus is, you tend to do the same 200 or so pieces a lot. Plus, I read well enough to get away with sight reading stuff I don't know. Even when I'm at rehearsal, I often end up singing a different part than the one I rehearsed, to fill gaps caused by absences in a section.

Happy Holy Week for those who celebrate it, and happy regular week for everyone else.

"There will be no having of any kind....."

Yes, well. It's been a year since I joined this great whirligig of fun known as Live Journal (and other, less complimentary names, depending on its behavior and my flist's moods). If I haven't thanked you folks recently for your entertaining posts, comments, friendship and support lately, shame on me. Thanks, everyone.

And a special Happy Birthday to the great and wonderful gileswench, whose natal day this also happens to be!

I should try to post something slightly profound today, given the significance of the date. Well, okay, how about this: what I'm really thinking about today is how we go about launching ourselves into the telling of tales. To get an idea and post a start to a story takes a tremendous amount of faith as a writer. (Or maybe that would be temporary insanity. I'm not clear on that point.)

To start reading a WIP takes a tremendous amount of faith too, as a reader. I can't count (not being a math major) the number of times I've started reading a brilliantly written and conceived story-- that stalls. The Transformations Quartet springs to mind. So does liz_marcs's "Water Hold Me Down" (possibly the best title I've ever seen. Not to mention a damn good story.) I've had some stalled tales, myself, most notably my first novel, started in grad school and then abandoned for over 20 years. Still have no idea how it ends.

I've got a couple of WIPs I'm working on now, including the Nano06 novel. But here's the weird part-- every single time I pick up my pen or my laptop, after a tale has stalled, and somehow new stuff comes to me, I'm surprised.

It's like, I struggle so hard to write a scene, and nothing comes, and then one day, for no reason at all, something clicks, and I write it. It's not Hemingway, but it's also usually not bad. At least, I can work with it. It's devilishly hard to edit what's not written, after all.

I invite you to share your moments of grace, if you care to. Or those of you with seriously stalled fics-- how did those start for you? What were you working out with them at the time, and what's changed since? I'd love to see liz answer that-- almost asked on her journal today, but didn't want to seem to be pressuring her. I know real life plays a role-- you can't receive the inspiration if you're too exhausted at the end of the day to write it all down.

And I will share one more bit of thanks. Doubtless she's regretting her generosity now that she's slogged through the start of the Nano Novel, but gillo has graciously agreed to beta it for me. I am learning a great deal about my bad habits, how to avoid them, and how in general to be a better beta reader myself. Watch this space. Once I have a completed draft, I'm going to take her early comments to heart, fix what can be fixed, and start posting.

Thanks again to all, and good night.

Hob