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Words tonight: 609
Sections completed: Four and a quarter.
Words total: 4,528
Reasons for stopping: That whole "sleep" issue.
Coffee?: One cup in morning.
Food: Mac and cheese with ham, salad, chocolate.
Exercise: Nope, and the way it’s snowing outside makes me think tomorrow’s not happening either, unless I do something non-gym-related.
Non-Writing-Related Work: Started to review those two books for Morbid Curiosity. Highly unlikely I’ll be taking advantage of the half-page ad option, but I’m going to at least try like fuck to get those in ASAP.
Darling du Jour: "So the question now becomes one of exactly how best to prospectively trap…it. Her. That thing. Our Lady of Death from Above."
Tyop du Jour: Liberal doubling of words, cf. "which which", etc.
Mean Things: The "angel" drops a guy from thirty feet, just to see whether or not he’ll bounce on the way down.
Books in progress: Finished The Black Angel and moved on to Fowler’s Seventy-Seven Clocks, a Bryant and May Peculiar Crimes Division mystery—fun, so far. However, I still keep going back and re-reading various parts of Angel, because it rocks like a rockin’ thing.
Bodily crap: The sores seem to be on the mend, thank God, and my throat is just a little squeezy. Having to be inside all day, however, wasn’t great for Cal or me, in the long run.
TV: Broke down and went back to BSG S. 2, just in time for them to open the tomb of Athena; pure joy is seeing Six imitate Starbuck in order to convince Baltar he’s crazy, amongst other things. Also watched waaay too much What Not To Wear, which is sort of addictive, if not really helpful.
DVDs: Rented R-Point, a South Korean Vietnam war ghost story whose moral seemed to be that every soldier has blood on his hands (duh!), so they should keep off sacred ground dedicated to the memory of a long-ago massacre; very creepy, though, and now I guess they don’t have to adapt Jeff Long’s The Reckoning, ‘cause this was pretty much it.
Music: Ministry, The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste; Lisa Gerrard, Immortal Memory; Dead Can Dance, The Serpent’s Egg.
Okay, off to bed. Let’s hope I don’t dream of either radio messages from the dead, or grapnels.
Sections completed: Four and a quarter.
Words total: 4,528
Reasons for stopping: That whole "sleep" issue.
Coffee?: One cup in morning.
Food: Mac and cheese with ham, salad, chocolate.
Exercise: Nope, and the way it’s snowing outside makes me think tomorrow’s not happening either, unless I do something non-gym-related.
Non-Writing-Related Work: Started to review those two books for Morbid Curiosity. Highly unlikely I’ll be taking advantage of the half-page ad option, but I’m going to at least try like fuck to get those in ASAP.
Darling du Jour: "So the question now becomes one of exactly how best to prospectively trap…it. Her. That thing. Our Lady of Death from Above."
Tyop du Jour: Liberal doubling of words, cf. "which which", etc.
Mean Things: The "angel" drops a guy from thirty feet, just to see whether or not he’ll bounce on the way down.
Books in progress: Finished The Black Angel and moved on to Fowler’s Seventy-Seven Clocks, a Bryant and May Peculiar Crimes Division mystery—fun, so far. However, I still keep going back and re-reading various parts of Angel, because it rocks like a rockin’ thing.
Bodily crap: The sores seem to be on the mend, thank God, and my throat is just a little squeezy. Having to be inside all day, however, wasn’t great for Cal or me, in the long run.
TV: Broke down and went back to BSG S. 2, just in time for them to open the tomb of Athena; pure joy is seeing Six imitate Starbuck in order to convince Baltar he’s crazy, amongst other things. Also watched waaay too much What Not To Wear, which is sort of addictive, if not really helpful.
DVDs: Rented R-Point, a South Korean Vietnam war ghost story whose moral seemed to be that every soldier has blood on his hands (duh!), so they should keep off sacred ground dedicated to the memory of a long-ago massacre; very creepy, though, and now I guess they don’t have to adapt Jeff Long’s The Reckoning, ‘cause this was pretty much it.
Music: Ministry, The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste; Lisa Gerrard, Immortal Memory; Dead Can Dance, The Serpent’s Egg.
Okay, off to bed. Let’s hope I don’t dream of either radio messages from the dead, or grapnels.
