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The internet knows everything, and so I ask…

PETERMBALL Journal, Works in Progress , , ,

I was at work today, innocently doing my job, when one of my co-workers turned around asked “have you ever come across a transgender zombie story?”

At which point I allowed that a) I had not, b) google wasn’t inclined to find me one, and c) I adore my new dayjob more than any other dayjob I’ve ever had.

Still, it’s a vexing kind of question to be unable to answer in the affirmative. I fired off the question to a couple of friends in the hopes that they’ve heard something, then figured I’d ask the question here just in case someone had come across such a thing. Transgender zombies and/or protagonists appear to be fair game, so far as such things go, so if you’ve come across such a thing in your readings please drop by the comments and let me know. In short: help me, Obi-net-kenobi, you’re my only hope.

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I’d be linking you to Catherynne Valentes not-quite-review of Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, but it’s on livejournal and LJ has been buggy for the last few days, so I’m not entirely sure the link is going to take you where it’s supposed to take you. Should it work, I really recommend taking a gander at the review-slash-essay posted there, for it immediately makes the movie one that I absolutely must see and, I think, articulates something quite important about the reason people wander off to become artists and writers, that kind of long-term chasing down of a tribe that’s smart and passionate and engaged with the world in a very particular kind of way.

And I, as ever, want a book of Catherynne Valente essays, for they are frequently phenomenal when she posts them online and they deserve to be a book one day. I would be deeply grateful if someone would pay her to write one.

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So, of the six killer copyediting tips delivered in this blog post, I’ve managed to internalize…two. Unfortunately, the ones I still get wrong are generally the more embarrassing options on the list. I should probably work on that, since it seems like a perfectly reasonable list of things that it’d be a good idea to learn, and my problems with apostrophes are getting quite out of control.

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Every second Wednesday has become the bane of my writing routine. There simply isn’t time for sustained writing, just little bursts of wordage that are fit into a spare half-hour or so. I try not to begrudge Wednesdays this – I work and I go out, doing that thing where I see other people, which is presumably important for my continued status as a sane human being – but I am not built to take breaks from work. I live in fear of my own sloth, where I give in to the temptation to not-write because it’s easier, rather than force myself to put down new words.

Thursdays are meant to make up for it: a day off, a writing day, free of distractions. Yet I’m four weeks into the day job and it’s never quite become that, always winnowed away by odd jobs and far too brief a time spent writing.

Still, I’m getting better at carving out writing time. Not as good as I used to be, but better than I’ve been for much of the last twelve months, and I plan on getting quite a bit done on the morrow. I just wish I could come up with a solution for tonight that made me felt like I’d done enough to warrant going to bed at a reasonable hour tonight. I mean, I’ve written something on the Flotsam draft, which is almost certainly better than nothing, but somehow I can’t quite talk myself into believing that 250 words is a reasonable day’s work and no amount of but tomorrow I’ll finish the draft of the next story and be able to start editing seems to satisfy the spokesbear and my inner taskmaster.

This, I suspect, is because they know me too well. One good week of getting things done doesn’t mitigate of year of saying such things and not quite getting around to doing them.

I suspect it’s time to aim for five hundred words and try again. Which means I’d best get on with things, I suppose.

 

 

418

PETERMBALL Journal , , , , ,

This is my four hundred and eighteenth post to this blog, which I guess means we’re on the downhill slope towards five hundred blog entries (whereupon I probably turn into a pumpkin).

The last few days have settled into a comfortable kind of routine – I get home from the dayjob, I don’t turn on the internet, I read a book until five o’clock or so, then I eat dinner and force myself to write 1000 words before I go to sleep. My brain’s resisting the latter – last night I wrote the first five hundred words with ease, then scrambled for the last four hundred or so for hours before admitting defeat and collapsing into bed.

Tonight there is teaching, which means I’ll have to forgo the reading, and the 1000 words will be an even bigger challenge. It needs to be done, because at this point 1000 words a day is pretty much the line between me and wholesale insanity, and I’d prefer not to be going into guilt-induced craziness as the year progresses. I am far too fond of drama, after all, and I really need to get over that.

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In my spare time, at the dayjob, I’m trying to figure out how to sculpt a horse out of paperclips. Not a terribly good horse, for I’m not that artistically inclined, but something that’s satisfyingly horse-like. I’m currently struggling with the tail.

So if anyone knows any good sculpting-horses-out-of-paperclip type tips, I’d be happy to learn them.

And now that I typed that, man, I really miss working from home. At least there my time-filling exercises were things like cleaning the bathroom or baking cupcakes.

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I did make chili last night, and it was quite good. Unfortunately, I left out the bacon. Fortunately, this means I’ll be eating bacon and eggs for lunch today, which is one of those side-effects that make me happy.

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I’m listening to the Prodigy a lot this week, which is kinda weird. It’s been years since I last plot-danced to Voodoo People. We’re talkin’ the fricken’ nineties.

I would imbed the video, but apparently that doesn’t work for this site anymore (which means, I suppose, there’s a redesign in the works somewhere in the future). I guess you’ll just have to make do do-do do doo, do do-do do-do sounds yourself, then whisper the words magic-people-voodoo-people yourself to get the right effect. Or you can follow a link.

Swancon 36

PETERMBALL Journal ,

A few months ago I decided to do the sensible thing by my financial situation and give up any plans of going to Swancon 36 (aka Australia’s nat-con). It was the right decision back that – I was unemployed and broke and heavily in debt, and although there were all sorts of good reasons to go to Perth (Peeps! Ellen Datlow!) the money just wasn’t there. Admitting that fracking hurt too, ’cause occasionally I’d talk to Alisa over at Twelfth Planet Pressabout using Swancon as a rough launch date for Claw, and I do so love being around when a new book goes out into the world.

Several things have changed since then. For starters there’s no chance that Claw will be out by Swancon, largely because the recent mess of dayjob and parents having heart surgery meant I just wasn’t able to meet the original deadline*. On the other hand, Swancon still has a chance to catch up with peeps and Ellen Datlow as a guest, and my recent acquisition of a day job means there’s the possibility of being able to afford to go without crippling myself financially for the next three years.

I spent most of the week running numbers, just making sure that it was possible, and what it came down to is this: I can afford the flights, I can afford the membership, and I can probably afford to eat while I’m in Perth. What I’m struggling with is the attempt to find accommodation that’s within my budget and still close to the con site. Which means, should I commit to going, I’ll need to find someone to split a room with.

Which brings us to you, dear peeps – if there’s  anyone going to Swancon in April who’se looking to split a hotel room for four nights , could you maybe give me a shout?

*something I still feel bad about, for all that Alisa was understanding when I e-mailed. For all that “my dad just had a heart-attack/open heart surgery” is a reasonable excuse, I’ve learned my lesson – the possibility of an unexpected emergency need to be factored into how I meet deadlines from now on. Especially since 2011 has a *lot* more deadlines than I’m used to. For there are always going to be emergencies, and I dislike the feeling of not getting things done on time.