Friday, September 09, 2022

9-8 & 9/9

9-8

The other day, Big texted me to remind me that September was almost over--how fast the time flies--and I almost gave into despair, since I hadn't written a single word this month (I last went to the library on August 30th).  He was only joking, of course, since September had just begun, but hey, now we're a week in, and the next time I blink, he'll be right.

Soon it'll be time to pack it in and head on back, and I got three episodes edited on Tuesday, three on Wednesday, and one today (so far), along with an Outcast.

I guess I'd better go outside and pick up that pan of water I left for the deer--I never saw a single solitary creature, from deer to ground squirrel, drink from it, but I've always felt that it's the thought that counts, no matter what the Satanic Bible teaches us.

I went out, and there were a couple of bugs in the water (now only halfway full), and some blown pollen, but of course there was no evidence that animals had gathered round it and thought, "Gee, maybe them human beings ain't so bad after all.  Maybe we'll call off our murder plans."

But I noticed my brother's motion-activated camera nearby, pointed in the direction of the cabin, and wondered if it had caught anything approaching the pan and drinking from it.  So I got out the memory card to look at in my laptop* and . . . huh.  It was empty.  I'll have to ask my brother about it, but both it and the one nearer to the cabin, had been turned off.  Disappointing, yes, though not as disappointing as I was to my parents.

Okay, I finished editing another chapter, and the reading of a story I recorded back in November, and as a "reward," I went upstairs with my Houdini book, determined to finish it whilst on the exercise bike.  To my surprise, there was only one chapter left, and then acknowledgments, so I was done before I knew it.  Now I'm back downstairs, considering starting another chapter of Abbie's book (ultimately, I did--it was a short one), or starting to edit the podcast I recorded with Big Anklevich two days ag--wait, how can it be two weeks ago now?  Where the devil does the time go??

This is going to sound crazy, but I think I'm gonna pack up early, head down, check to see that my appointment is still on for tomorrow morning (it's 60/40 in my mind), get home, shower, and hit the library before it closes, see if I can't get a few hundred words.  That strikes me as both responsible and ambitious . . . in other words, completely out of character.

Only got 361 words before they kicked us out.  But that's 361 more words than I had yesterday.

Exercise Day: Yes (7)

9-9

"Loneliness and frustration,
We both came down with an acute case."
Warren Zevon

I got a couple more chapters in the 'box for Abbie.  That puts this crazy graph at:

14 / 52

This is another one of those days where I absolutely don't want to write, and the difference between today and all those other days . . . is that I don't have to write today.  I'm under no obligation to do so.  I'm editing audio and exercising this month, not writing.  So yay.

I only got 179 words, but the worst thing is, right before they did their little announcement, I started getting into it, enjoying the writing.  Funny that.

Exercise Day: No (7)

*I know I've said this before--heck, after a thousand blog posts in the past three years, I've said just about everything, including the new dirty word "grundle," which I vow to insert in 2023 stories as inappropriately as I do "Joanie Loves Chachi" now--but in looking through my brother's photos, I get this fun idea for a movie scene, where you're going through the pictures, and discover two or three of them have captured some . . . thing that's been lurking about unnoticed, causing a nice, upsetting moment in the film.  Today's version was a guy who meets a girl who freaks out when he speaks to her, tries to run away, and he begins to suspect that she is an honest-to-badness ghost.  But hey, there's one of those motion-detecting cameras on a wall or tree, and he retrieves the photos to prove his theory to himself . . . and only the girl is in them.  Whoops, he realizes at last, she was freaked out not because I could see her, but because she could see me.


No comments: