Blog 8-3 and 8/4

8-3

Once again, I'm at the cabin, and though I got here a full hour earlier than last Wednesday, before too long, I had finished editing my audiobook (didn't get a single chapter recorded on mine before starting on Abbie's, and only got the introduction and title done on hers), and the sun was getting low in the sky.  

As I was driving here, there's a long stretch of road where the highway goes in between two farms, and at a certain time of year (namely, right now), the grasshoppers tend to swarm or flock or congest that part of the road, often splattering themselves all over the windshield (and sometimes jumping right into the car with me, if I have the windows down).  Well, today there was something else I hit on the drive down, some kind of tiny swarm of little bugs that covered the front of my car and smearing the windshield with an orange goo that was bad enough I stopped at the next town and wiped down my glass with all the napkins I had in the car.

When I got to the cabin, I looked at the front of the car, and you can see the little spots where I hit thousands of these little bugs.  Sadly, I have it on pretty good authority that one of those now-deceased bugs would've become President of the United States had he lived.  SadFaceEmoji.

Big and I recorded a Dunesteef episode on Monday (did I blog about that?), and so that was what I chose to focus on this trip (I also recorded some lines for the last of the HorrorAddicts stories I was asked to do--easy work, for the most part, and fun).

From the library, I watched THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER for the first time in thirty-two years (was it '90 or '89 when it came out?).  I had never really liked it, except for the clever gimmick of the Russian characters speaking Russian, then transitioning to English for the rest of the film.  But in the intervening years, I read the book (and the subsequent three books), and my understanding expanded.  

This poster is great...but it's the WRONG COLOR!!!!!!!!!

I quite enjoyed the film, actually, especially Connery, who was typically compelling, and wonderfully brilliant.  Heck, Alec Baldwin, who I simply could not take seriously in dramatic roles for, jeez, this whole century, is charismatic and charmingly understated throughout.  John McTiernan directed it, who directed one of the three (maybe two) best action movies of the Eighties, and now I can't think of the last time I saw his name on a movie.  I wonder if he's retired, or has made too many enemies, or is still in director jail for LAST ACTION HERO or something* (I started listening to the audio commentary before I fell asleep, and it was great to hear him criticizing the decisions he made throughout the movie, saying stuff like, "I didn't really achieve what I set out to in this scene," and "I hope what they did makes sense to the audience, but I'm not sure I did it right").

Arcove or Exercise: Exercise

8-4

So, Big and I "got together" on Monday, and finally recorded that last (story) episode of the Dunesteef.  I had been putting it off for more than a year, but he pinned me down and it got done.  It was a long time in coming, but now that it was recorded, I chose to focus on editing it today, so Big could get it up as soon as he could.  At one point, he quoted (or perhaps misquoted) "Beast of Burden" by the Rolling Stones, and I decided to put that in there as the outro music, since I happened to have that song on my laptop anyway.  It's a really solid track from a band I never particularly appreciated, but there's a downbeatness to it, which I thought served the goodbyes well.

I got my exercise bike down, for only the second time, and focused on riding on it, even turning the difficulty up to the second-highest setting.  I read some of a new Houdini book while riding it, and kept saying, "Okay, one more mile then I can stop."  To my surprise, I got pretty sweaty with it, and my legs were a bit wobbly when I finally got off, which I'm sure means I did something good.

There were kids driving around on four-wheelers at the cabin (like there usually are on weekends, but not on Wednesdays and Thursdays), and they were so noisy that I left the computer and investigated what they were yelling about.  There were three deer in the woods in front of our cabin, a mother and two fawn.  The kids were pretty ecstatic about the discovery.

And a moment later, I thought, "Have I become so jaded by seeing them literally every week that I am no longer able to observe them with joy and wonder?"  So I went out on the deck and watched them.  All three deer looked up at me with mild curiosity, but did not run away.  I wondered what they were thinking, and if deer could ever be so accustomed to people that they would approach and let you feed them.  Hmmm.

I drove back, and didn't record a podcast for the first time in living memory.  I did record one with Marshal, though, when I got home.  I guess I'll have something to edit for next week's trip.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

*Oh, I forgot, McTiernan also directed the disastrous THE THIRTEENTH WARRIOR and the somehow even more disastrous ROLLERBALL.  Guess that makes three strikes.

8-1 & 8-2

 8/1

It's a new month, with new goals.  Most of August will be spent working on Abbie's book, and we had our phone conversation today where we talked about the project and how to pronounce things.  It was very positive and we'll see how hard I can hit this thing here at the beginning of the month, so that I can stay ahead of the deadline to finish it.

I know there will be challenges--heck, there were a couple of bits where I thought, "How the devil am I gonna pull this off?"--but hopefully, it'll make a good go of it.  Apparently, she's already got fans anxiously awaiting the book, including a doctor who only has time to listen to the audio.

Also, I've set an easily-achievable goal of writing 3000 words in August, so that I still write SOMETHING, instead of just letting my writing fall completely by the wayside.

My nephew was incapacitated by a migraine today, and was still in bed when I left for the library.  To my surprise, around four this afternoon, I started getting a headache, one of those that is far forward, around my eye sockets.  I took a pill, took a twenty minute nap, and while it's not entirely gone, it's tolerable.  I can't imagine having the kind of headaches he has, or the kind of headaches my wife would get if she found herself married to me.  But cheers to those who suffer and force themselves to function through it.

Well, I got 744 words written when they did their nightly jarring announcement.  Something tells me three thousand will be a walk in the park, unless I completely fall off the wagon.

The end of the day was spent podcasting with Big.  But more on that later.

Arcove or Exercise: Writing (wait, that's not one of the choices!)

8-2

It rained like crazy last night.  It was one of those rainstorms where I worried about flooding, and worried about the homeless dudes who live here at the library (I sometimes see them making their beds on the lawn in between buildings--not at all a bad place to spend a night).*

The main goal I set for August was to either exercise or work on Abbie's book every single day of the month.  Yesterday counts because I did the phone call with her talking about voices and pronunciation.**  Today, well, I knew I wouldn't have time to do much, so I sat down and recorded the opening and closing titles of the book.  It only took five minutes, but hey, I'm still counting it.

After nearly twenty years, I finally terminated my Netflix subscription.  And before you squint and say, "What are you talking about, old man, everybody has a Netflix sub--"  No, I finally had them stop sending me DVDs, since I hardly ever watched them anymore, and when I did, it took me days or weeks to get through them.

Well, I got some writing done (again).  I managed 860 words tonight.  Which puts me halfway to my goal . . . for the month.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove/Writing

*My brother got called into work because several trees--not limbs, but entire trees--blew over and knocked down powerlines, and he said the entire roof of a storage unit was blown off, so hey, it could've been way worse here in town.

**It was kind of astounding that she knew who every single minor character is, whether they do anything in the book or not (apparently, there are several more books to come, and some of these characters MIGHT have important things to do a year or two down the road).  Me, I sometimes forget entire stories I've written, let alone the names of the characters who appear in them.

7-30 and 7-31

7-30

I got one of those fun "Prove it's really you" tests over on Paypal today, where it wanted me to confirm my identity by sending me a text to my phone, then I had to type it in on the computer before the time elapsed.  No big deal, right?  Except for once I typed it in, I got the error, "Sorry, unable to verify your ID," and it wouldn't log in.

Didn't quite get 700 words today.  I kept trying to find synonyms for "concern" and "worry."  There aren't a lot, at least in my mind.

Anyway, I'm gonna head home and get some more reading done.  I'm in the home stretch now.

Oh, hey.  CatsCast asked if I wanted to do another story for them already.  I'll have to come up with something funny to say in my bio.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

7-31

So, last week, David Warner died.  He was an excellent actor, nearly always playing bad guys (in TRON and TIME BANDITS and TIME AFTER TIME and even TITANIC), and played Gul Madred in the excellent two-part "Chain of Command" episode on Star Trek: TNG.  David Warner was cool, and because he died while I was reading Abbie's book, I thought I'd try and make one of the new characters sound like him.

The same day, Paul Sorvino died, who had a great film career . . . but also played Worf's foster brother on a seventh season TNG episode called "Homeward."

And then today, Nichelle Nichols, who played Lt. Uhura on the original "Star Trek" (and six movies), passed away too.  She was 89.

My friends and I were always disappointed that Uhura had nothing to do on the show, especially knowing how important she was in inspiring so many people to pursue communications, linguistics, and the space program.  And hey, anybody who was on the original "Star Trek" is pretty great, between you and me.

There were so many tributes, both from Trek alumni and from others, and that was great, but Pat Carroll, who played the GOAT of all Disney villains, Ursula the Sea Witch died that same day, and I wished she'd had a day of her own to be appreciated.

I had a long drive in the morning, which is pretty irresponsible considering the price of gas (which has dropped more than thirty cents since the start of July, so it could be worse), but there was a guy who's moving and wanted to get rid of some of his figures, and the deal was good enough I was willing to make the drive. 

I made sure to finish reading Abbie's book, though it didn't take much (the last several pages were author's notes, and I had read those as I went along).  Then my nephew wanted to ride his little bicycle around, so I told him I'd take him to the park, and he could bike while I ran.  It was hot and fairly miserable, but we went all the way around, and I did the stairs three times (well, four times, technically, since there's another set of much steeper steps on the far side of the park).  Afterward, I got him (and me) a Slurpiee, and figured we'd both earned it.

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

7-29

7-29

I apologize for always complaining about stuff, but I was watching "Better Call Saul," and they had "Gene Takavic" run into a guy he knew back in New Mexico when he was Saul Goodman.  But I didn't recognize him.  I rewound it, watched it again, and paused it, still flummoxed.*  I just didn't recognize the guy who recognized Gene/Saul.

So I looked him up.  And sigh.

It was not the same actor who played the character in the old episodes.  Whoops.  Guess I'm not as stupid as the show made me feel.  Thanks, television.

In other news, I told Jeff today that the Gherkin is the most beautiful building in the world.  He laughed, but . . .

I'm back at the library right now, and the dude across the aisle from me is having a nice little mumbly chat with himself, twitching and rocking while he's doing so.  He's obviously mentally ill, and just as his behavior started to upset me . . . I thought about how I talked to myself this morning, trying to get my work done, and that one of the voices had an English accent and the other one didn't.  So, I need to be a bit more charitable, thank you very much.

I started writing again (though I sure wanted to look up every single possible thing that occurred to me . . . still do), and used the word "discomfort."  It seemed like the appropriate word, but I wanted to make sure I hadn't already used it.  So I did a search . . . and it was the NINTH time I had used "discomfort." 

I could've written more.  I could've written longer.  But I managed 670 words, and sorry to be a douche, but the guy across from me (who probably got more words written than me, truth be told) was making me nervous.  So I hit the road a full half hour early.  Sorry.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

*This confusion MIGHT have been avoided had this episode included a "Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer..." but it didn't.

7-27 & 7-28

7-27

At the cabin, beyotch.  I guess I was tired, because I fell asleep while editing, and then later put on a movie (FREE GUY), and fell asleep during it too.  But when I woke up, a half hour or so later, I was pretty refreshed, so I finished the movie, edited Chapter 7 of my audiobook, and went out on the upper deck to look at the stars for a few minutes.  It was the first time I'd done it since I got carbon monoxide poisoning last year, and next time I go, it'd be cool if you'd go with me: the Big Dipper and the Milky Way were super visible in the sky, and I wouldn't be surprised if someone told me there were a million stars out and shining.

An owl was calling, which is pretty rad, and some other animal was doing some kind of call.  Do deer make noise?  It sounded somewhat dog-like to me, and I wondered if maybe foxes bark.  Probably, right?

 Writing or Exercise: Exercise

7-28

I'm supposed to be finishing up "Arcove's Bright Side," but I'm so far behind, it would take an actual NASA-detected miracle to reach the end in time.  I keep noticing references to "Hunter's Unlucky," and I know that, if I was given the job to narrate that book now, I could do a better job of it (partly because the characters have developed so much more in my mind over the years (and my mouth too, if you know what I mean).  The character of Halvery has become a favorite of mine (not a favorite, I suppose, but the favorite), and I'm almost tempted to ask Abbie if I can go back and redo all his dialogue from the first book, now that he's so fleshed out, and the way I perform him.  But I'm not completely mad, mind you--I'll barely get this thing finished by the first of August as it stands.*

While reading her book, I notice certain strengths she has, and an ability to carry a narrative along by withholding information, but letting us know she's withholding it by having a character fixate on it, so we become as invested in finding out as he does.  Meanwhile, I've gotten better at writing over the years, but still consider it a triumph when I get from point A to point D without quitting along the way.  But ah well.

It started raining a little while ago, and man, it's RAINING.  The thunder is so loud, you can feel it in your grundle, and the rain pelted the poor deer outside so hard they ran for cover as though someone had taken a shot at them.  It came down in dime-sized drops, then nickel-sized.  I worry about the road getting back (a dirt road, which would now be a mud and running water road).  I think I've no choice but to stay here, if not for the night, then at least until the torrent stops.  Wow, the sun is still shining, yet it is pouring rain (like, movie rain, the kind that doesn't happen in real life, because people would die from it).  I'll try to get some video of it.

Anyway, I'll keep reading Abbie's book (I'm getting close to the end now) and do a mile or three on that exercise bike I carried upstairs a week ago.  Then we'll see.

At the last minute (I go into more detail in my Patreon address), I decided to at least TRY the roads, so I packed up my stuff, and got in the car.  And the roads were fine.  Honestly, my shoes got way muddier than my car.

Okay, turns out Tony Dow did die, just a day or two later.  You rock, Wally.

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

*Part of my problem is that I keep reading all of the dialogue out loud.  Even when I realize it's taking too long, and I start reading it silently, a page or two later, I start saying the words again, and it slows to a crawl.  I think Abbie understands that, even though I complain about it every time, the actual recording of the book goes much more smoothly (and a bit faster) if I've read it all first.  It's like making a movie where you take a few days to rehearse first, I suppose.

7-25 & 7/26

7/25

This doesn't qualify for a Tale of eBay Horror, but I needed to write SOMETHING in my blog today, since the library was closed (today and yesterday), and I didn't so much as fart today.  Anyway, I got a message from a potential buyer* who asked if I would send him close-up photos of an item, so he could tell if it was what I said it was or not.

That's it, just that little bit there.  Somehow, I thought that was worth blogging about (hey, at least I didn't take another picture of the gross oval bruise on my side).

Watched a "Star Trek" episode called "The Enterprise Incident."  I remembered liking this one a lot the last time I watched it, where a female Romulan Commander puts the moves on Spock, but I found it middling and pointless this time around (after all, none of the plotlines from this episode are ever mentioned again, including the stolen cloaking device and the captured Romulan commander).  I was surprised, though, when I looked it up, to find out it's one of the more highly-regarded installments of the show, from Season Three, when nobody likes anything.

For the "writing" portion of my night, I sat down and recorded Chapter 8 of "But Now I'm Found," and dang it, like Chapter 4, I went waaaaaay longer than I intended.  It was not a long segment, but it was one hour and fourteen minutes recording it.  At this rate, I'll never get to the end.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

7-26

The press announced that Tony Dow, who played Wally on "Leave It To Beaver," died today.  There was even a heartfelt tribute from Jerry Mathers, who played his little brother.  But then, Dow's family and manager put out a statement that Tony Dow had NOT died.  Which is awkward, isn't it?

Big has already written over a thousand words today.  I'm not in competition with him (except, perhaps, in who can write a book and not publish it the longest), but I still feel the pressure building.  I'm sitting down at the library, with zero words, and we'll see how well I do in the next hour.

I shouldn't tell anybody this, but fudgin' "Hatchling" finally went through on Audible.  Jeez, if I live to be a hundred, I never want to mention it again.  It'll be like asking Lucas about "The Holiday Special."

Writing or Exercise: Both (if push-ups count)

*I get them every day, and at least one of them [sometimes multiples] ask me how low I will go on the price . . . it's just so weird.  You can make offers on eBay listings, and I've got them set up to automatically accept them if they're above a certain threshold, yet people still ask EVERYDAY what my lowest price would be.

7-23 & 7-24

7/23

When I was at the cabin on Thursday, hurrying to get everything put away before darkness fell, I accidentally ran into the stair railing (as opposed to the many times I've run into them on purpose).  It hurt, and I'm sure I said words even British people consider profanity, but then forgot about it.  But today, I got out of the shower, and was kind of shocked to see an ugly purple bruise on my side.  Not being a religious person, I didn't interpret it as stigmata or anything, but remembered the mishap on Thursday.

Here's a picture.  That'll teach you to read my blog.

I don't have much time at the library today, which is fine.  I did great yesterday (unless you're one of those writers who posts on Facebook that they've written three novels this year . . . and it's April!), and Jeff said today's the last day we'll have to hang out before he flies home (a week late).  I'll ask him if we can watch a "Supernatural" episode, or if he just wants to continue with "Lower Decks."

Even so, he was out of town until afternoon, so I still got some writing done.  Compared to yesterday, it was little, and I didn't move the narrative even a millimeter toward the end.  Okay, maybe a millimeter.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

7/24

You know, I try not to belittle other people's beliefs, especially their inane religious ones, because, after all, I once believed that Chewbacca was real, and that if you died whilst praying your soul would automatically go to Heaven.*  But I used to report on these asinine spam emails I would get every week (my account has been locked, my computer has 23 viruses, Africans have the secret for rock-hard wangs, a company wants me to come in for an interview, I am owed compensation for Camp Lejeune, this is my final notice to pick up my Amazon box, my hair will grow back with this one simple hack, and the word "inconnu" means an unknown person or thing), and I grew tired of that quickly (you see, once you notice a specific email, you'll notice it ten more times in the coming days).

But dude, today's is NASA rapture warning.  Apparently, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration has been monitoring the skies, and like Santa Claus on the 24th of December, there's a Jesus-shaped blob on the radar as the Messiah flies from east to west, scooping good little Gentile boys and girls into the air, while the rest of us remain to be burned like dead stalks after the harvest.  But hey, thanks to this bullshit email . . . we've at least been warned.

I did the stairs at the park again today.  It's a bit hot to be doing it, but I like the sensation of sweat running down my face, I guess.  While I was at the top of the stairs, gasping for breath and begging for a quick death, I saw a bicyclist racing along the sidewalk down below, missing the turn, and biffing it (the technical term) onto the ground.  I watched her writhe for a moment (half-under and half-free of her bike) with an odd detachment, as though I was watching video footage from a foreign land.  Eventually, her bicycling companions extracted her from under the fallen bike, and helped her hobble back toward the parking lot.  I arched an eyebrow, Spock-like, and pondered the existence of these strange beings called humans.

Hmm.

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

*My dad explained this to me when I was a child, as for why Hamlet didn't murder Claudius when he had the opportunity.

Rish Outcast 226: Hero Worship (TMI)

In this episode, Rish talks about heroes, and how they fall.  To illustrate this, he shares his story "Hero Worship," and a TMI warning.  Or two.

If you wanna download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

If you wanna support me on Patreon, well, die a hero HERE.

Logo by Gino "Hero Warship" Moretto.

7-21 & 7-22

7-21

I grabbed three or four DVDs from the library (I always have more to watch than I have time to watch them, which is better than the opposite, believe you me), and picked 1956's HIGH SOCIETY to watch, and it was everything that CAROUSEL wasn't the last time I was here.*  It starred Grace Kelly as Tracy Lord, who's engaged to one dude, still pursued by her ex-husband (Fred Astaire), and falling for a new guy, played by Frank Sinatra.  It had songs by Cole Porter, several performances by Louie Armstrong, and spoke to me in a way that last week's flick absolutely didn't.  So weird.  

Turns out, it was a remake of THE PHILADELPHIA STORY, which had Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and Jimmy Stewart in the Astaire, Kelly, and Sinatra parts, and seems awfully similar (there was a trailer for that flick too on the DVD, and much of the dialogue was exactly the same in both).  But even so, I was absolutely entranced by this version, with no idea how it was going to end.  The poster should've announced, "You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll eat an entire bag of raisins before it's done!"

Sadly, it was the last movie Grace Kelly did, before becoming Princess of Monaco, and that's a shame.  I didn't even know she could sing.

I have a dude who does a "Dark Shadows" audio drama who contacted me back in June (or maybe even May) to ask if I could voice a character in it.  He sent me audio of the actual guy who played the character, and wanted me to see if I could sound like him.  So I sent him a sample, and he said it was fine, and sent me the script for two episodes.  And I sat down and recorded the first episode, and it ended up being nearly an hour long, after which (a week or so later) I spent even more time editing it.  I guess it's a major audio drama (and mine's a major part).  But there's still one more episode I'm supposed to record, and darned if I can even remember how the dude sounded, much less muster the energy to sound that way for another hour.  Guess it ain't easy being at the top of your game.

Instead, I sat down and edited Chapter 4 of "But Now I'm Found," which is the chapter I was most excited about (I think I mentioned, though, that it took me one hour and twenty-one minutes to record . . . can you even IMAGINE how long it would take to edit?).  And line after line I would do over or rewrite, trying to make it as good, as fun, as magical as it was in my head when I dreamed it up.  And for some bits, I just couldn't make it happen.  I wish I were a better writer, as good as one of those successful middling talents who either got lucky, knew better what to focus on, or worked harder, to get where they are today.

I also wrote a half a page on my book, trying to put an extra human moment in there with the doctor character.  I hope that little additions, little flourishes with minor characters (like the cowboy at the end of "Newfound Fame" who thinks Ernst Hillerman is gay, and not to be rude, kisses him on the cheek before they part) make the book better, richer, and slightly deeper than the shallow, wispy surface-level stories that they are.

Writing or Exercise: Both

7/22

I continue the big scene at the end, but I didn't finish it.  Once again, I can hear my friend (ex-friend now?) Brandon's words, that it wasn't heartbreaking like it was supposed to be.

I got 1036 words, saved and closed the file, then opened it again. 

Ended up with 1327 words.  Again, not bad.  Think I'll go warm up a piece of pizza (who am I kidding, a whole pizza).

My family is off on a fishing retreat for the weekend (the kids do go fishing nearly every day anyway, but this is different as they're not coming home until Sunday), so I had the house to myself.  I did eat a pizza, and ate half a quart of ice cream, and turned the TV up as loud as I wanted.  I was a thirteen year old with my parents out of town.

There's only four episodes left of "Better Call Saul" (three now), and I gotta say, as much as I love the show . . . they pack about twenty-two minutes of story into each episode.  I complained that "Obi-Wan Kenobi" had a lot of filler in it, but I think a single episode of that show could cover the ground of three "Better Call Sauls."  Of course, the writing is much better on BCS, but it still bugs me.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

*Ironically, Frank Sinatra, who co-starred in HIGH SOCIETY, was supposed to star in CAROUSEL, but dropped out at not the eleventh hour, but about 12:45, even having recorded the songs that had to go unused when he left.

7-20

7-20

I be at the cabin once again, my home away from home (my niece and her boyfriend's family are using it this weekend, which really upset my brother, so he must consider it his home away from home too), and as I was approaching, hit the yearly swarm of grasshoppers that always seem to be alongside (or crossing) the road.  It took me a quarter-roll of paper towels to wipe up all the goo once I'd arrived.  

And as I was pulling up to the gate, I saw a big group of teen boys doing some kind of cross-country run (with one poor bastard about a half-mile behind the others, unable to keep up), for what purpose I don't know.  As I drove through the gate and near the dam, I saw a second group, this one nubile teenaged girls, so it must be a class, or a health retreat, or the beginnings of an underage orgy or something.  But I'll admit that I was a bit jealous, seeing all that shiny flesh running where I run every Wednesday night.  Which is weird, I know, but that's what you signed up for, coming to my blog.

I grabbed the exercise bike (which I only ever used once, out on the back deck, in the middle of the night, since it was too hot to ride it in the daylight), stuffed it into the car again, and brought it with me to the cabin.  I put it on the back deck here too, and hopped on, meaning to "ride" for two miles, but bumped it up to three, until I was getting sweaty (which tells me it must be working, like those old shampoo commercials where if the right side is tingling, that means it's working).  

And about a half hour later, I drove up to the dam, did my regular run, and then found the one spot of wi-fi strong enough to go on YouTube and look up various Cajun people speaking with that accent of theirs.  The next HorrorAddicts production I'm voicing has a Cajun accent, which I've never done before (unless it was voicing Gambit in a comic book thirty years ago), and I hoped to study first.

I got a clip of an audiobook narrator who does instruction on accents, and played it over and over in the car, until the phone realized I didn't have internet anymore and wouldn't play it again (funny how I tricked it for a mile or two).  And then, before I forgot how it went, I sat down and started recording my part . . . and it was three lines.  Just three lines for the whole episode.  Sigh.

Maybe I'll beg Abbie to do a Cajun accent for one of the "Arcove's Bright Side" characters, so I wouldn't have wasted the remaining free space in my brain learning to sound Cajun.*

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

*What's worse is, I later read a comment on the YouTube guy's instruction that said, "You stupid Yankee douche, you're teaching people to speak Creole, not Cajun!"  But ce la vie, or however that goes.

7-17 to 7/19

7/17

Reading "Arcove's Bright Side," I am impressed by how well Abbie writes about how hard relationships are.  Her characters continually say the wrong thing, or what they say is misunderstood or does not get the reaction they were expecting, and the characters despair over it.  I'll simply say that, if real-life interpersonal relationships were this complicated, then I'd be pretty darn alone.

Wait, I said that bit aloud, but nobody complained.

I did what I could on the exercise bike tonight.  It's not like going for a run.  It's way less difficult, and focused solely on the legs.  But exercise is exercise, right, Your Honor?

Writing or Exercise: Exercise

7/18

Jeff was supposed to have gone home to Germany by now, but his wife caught COVID (as did his son, daughter-in-law, and multiple members of his family that went to the reunion), so he bumped his flight back a week.  Today, we got together and watched "Star Trek: Lower Decks" together, until I fell asleep, and he kicked me out so he could make dinner.  We also had lunch at a sandwich place that was so expensive, I fear I will never buy a sandwich again.

Afterward, I hit the library.  I got 1137 words today.  I was writing the scene (in "Balms & Sears") I keep talking about, and probably would've gone further had it not been 8:52pm.  No worries.  I'm happy to have made some real progress today.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

7-19

I write these posts as if there are avid fans of mine, hanging on every word, unable to wait another year for a Ben Parks or Will Choner story, much less the stupid "Calling" finale, which I'm probably never going to get to (do you believe I had this idea of a young George Clooney as a villain for that one?).  But even though that's surely not true, I will continue as though it is true, until it becomes true. 

Regardless, I finally got to the climactic scene in "Balms & Sears," and now that it's here, I desperately don't want to eff it up.*  I know what I want to happen, and I know how it's supposed to feel, but I'm afraid I'm just not a good enough writer to pull it off as well as it exists in my head (please return in two days for more of this thought).  But I'll press through to the end, let the manuscript sit for a year (or three), and maybe work on that in the revision, and really act it in the audiobook (coming out circa 2025, mark your calendar), and hope that it gets close.  For now, finishing is the most important part.

I got 874 words today.  Not bad at all.  Sadly, I'm nearly done with the scene (though I'd like to go in and make it more powerful, add in a couple more details and emotions), and then, well, I guess I end the book (I had wanted the encounter with the crazy guy from here at the library to be after this scene, but since I already wrote it, I suppose I'll come up with something else).  It's past the 60,000 word mark (I crossed that threshold today), so it's really getting up there.

Writing or Exercise: Writing

*I've recounted many a time of when, in my writer's group, we reached the end of my screenplay "Fallen Angel," where the hero and heroine realize that, even though they are starting to fall in love, they have to part, for the good of each other.  And my buddy Brandon approaching me afterward and saying, "That's the part where the audience is supposed to burst into tears because it's so tragic they can't be together . . . but I just wasn't feeling it," and how upset that made me, because I knew he was right when we read that bit, but for the life of me, I didn't know how to MAKE the audience feel it.  "A man's got to know his limitations," Dirty Harry said, but sometimes it really sucks to discover them.