Monday, February 3, 2014

'Tis Monday. Let's Make a List.

Time for a  
Sad/Happy/Reading/Working On/Fun Stuff to Look At 

Well, shit. Yesterday brought devastating news, didn't it?

He had three kids. But he also had heroin. Addiction is so sad. And now the world is dimmer by this one bulb that burned brighter and hotter than the nearest star. I loved Philip Seymour Hoffman. Loved his work. Any movie that boasted him among its credits, I'd watch. (The Master put me to sleep. No, really. Like, within twelve minutes. Sorry. Guess I'm not smart enough for the existential stuff (NO I DID NOT UNDERSTAND Inception, although the score is FABulous).)

Dude, we're gonna miss you. We're going to miss all the movies you would've made, the joy you would've experienced watching your kids grow ... if only. If only.


The trailer for the much-anticipated film adaptation of one of my favorite books ever, The Fault in Our Stars, debuted. You've likely already seen it, or you have reasons why you're not interested. But this made me happy because John Green's book is a force of nature all by itself.


My youngest and I are reading ...

The Ability by M. M. Vaughn

Summary from Goodreads:

Delve into the extraordinary abilities of the twelve-year-old mind in this thrilling start to a middle-grade series that expands the possibilities of power.
No one has any confidence in twelve-year-old Christopher Lane. His teachers discount him as a liar and a thief, and his mom doesn’t have the energy to deal with him. But a mysterious visit from the Ministry of Education indicates that Chris might have some potential after all: He is invited to attend the prestigious Myers Holt Academy.

When Christopher begins at his new school, he is astounded at what he can do. It seems that age twelve is a special time for the human brain, which is capable of remarkable feats—as also evidenced by Chris’s peers Ernest and Mortimer Genver, who, at the direction of their vengeful and manipulative mother, are testing the boundaries of the human mind.

But all this experimentation has consequences, and Chris soon finds himself forced to face them—or his new life will be over before it can begin.


Rewrites. What else?

People are funny, especially my own editing clients, about rewriting. I suggest it often: "Don't publish yet. Take a few weeks. Let it stew. Then rewrite a few things." Some folks listen, most don't. Indie publishing is a different beast. People are in a hurry.

My experience has been quite different, however, and as I've mentioned before, I am most grateful for this opportunity to learn SO MUCH. Rewriting pain doesn't turn everyone on, but I'm that kid who tried to break bones when she was younger so she could get a cast for classmates to sign. I was the one who was so happy when she finally sprained her ankle in gymnastics, a feat seven years of soccer and skating had failed to accomplish, so she could have crutches and people would say, "Awwww, what happened?" and that One Cute Boy might hold open the door or serve as lunch date. (It was a mild sprain. I didn't even get to use the crutches at school. Operation Attention Grab failed.) (Also: some context -- I grew up with a disabled sibling who would receive gifts EVERYWHERE we went. Yes, she was severely disabled. (RIP, darling Michelle!) I loved her. I was her protector. But when you're a little kid, and the sibling you think is "normal" because she's mean and bossy then gets presents everywhere you go, it tends to make you a little ... weird. And desirous of attention. These are things I discuss with my therapist, not the World at Large.)

ANYWAY, I like rewriting. I'm into that sort of pain. Maybe my subconscious is subconsciously screwing up these drafts on purpose so I don't have to face the fear of seeing the book finished. I DO NOT KNOW. I did not major in psychology. I do know I wasn't breastfed as a baby, so maybe this is the problem. THANKS, Mommy Voldemort.

I definitely have stamina. *winks*


A number of friends have tagged me in this:


And THIS magnificent fellow landed in the blue spruce in our front yard to take advantage of the new bird feeder. Bird-savvy friends say it is a male downy woodpecker. What a sweetie:

Nuit the Pussycat says, "LET ME NOM THE BIRDY!"

And finally, APRIL 6, Game of Thrones, season 4 (click link to see trailer on YouTube). CANNOT WAIT. Neither can the Mother of Dragons.

I'm going back in. The clock slows for no man.