February 6, 2005

So I've been writing all weekend...
Richard is doing his own thing, I'm doing mine. We wander around the house occasionally saying something to each other, stopping to watch TV together or take the dogs out and discuss the weather and the sorry state of our backyard. The Christmas Day snow not only shocked our tropical plants, they dropped dead in acute surprise. (We live in the tropic zone and had snow for the first time in a hundred years on C-Day). The cupboards are getting distressingly bare. I say that but I don't really mean it. We have an emergency supply of food in our pantry (cans of veggies and fruit, bottles of juices and water, plastic containers with 100 lbs of flour, sugar, oats, dried noodles, dried milk, and various other sundry dried and dehydrated food products). What I mean is my comfort-zone fast meal type food is getting low. Neither of us wants to go to the commissary. We're both getting quite jealous of our leisurely weekends and the ability to simply do as we please for two days. So in an effort to start cooking with stock items, I wandered into the kitchen and made homemade tomato barley soup. Well, as homemade as you can get with dehydrated and canned ingredients. This amazes me, by the way. It amazes me because it is alarmingly simple to cook some things. I have always been a from scratch cook, but I got away from it these past few years because of work, no family around at the right times and convenience. I am surprised at how easy it is to throw something together in a few minutes and then walk away and let it simmer and fill the house with rich aromas. In addition to the soup, I made some grilled cheese sandwiches. We even sat at the table for once and had a nice little political discussion. Echo is wandering outside in the rain to sniff the air. Flint went out, did his business and simply wants to be in any room I am in. So he is now flopped on the floor behind me, sleeping off the strain of doing his business for 30 seconds. Dogs are funny creatures. I'm procrastinating even though I should be writing. Sigh. Off I go. Time to do a little fun work.

And a few other things...
Last week, I think on Wednesday, I mailed off a short story to Sheila Williams, the editor of Asimov's (sci-fi magazine). I have a short story languishing that needs to be sent out, too. I think I'll do that tomorrow. Right now I am working on a book that has been requested by a publisher and also working on another which is simply for fun. Both are moving along smoothly and I am quite pleased with my progress. For a long while I've done head-hopping (switching POV in a scene). Gerrie tells me its lazy writing on my part. I always defended it, thinking that it broadened perspective. Today, while editing the second book, I was cruising along happily reading, actually caught up in the story when BAM! I hopped into another character's POV. Can we say irritated? I now understand what all my critique partners/editors are talking about. It never bothered me before. I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm learning? Absorbing what they're saying? At any rate, I spent several hours re-writing half the chapter until it was all in one POV. It DID turn out stronger. I owe ya one, Ger. I must go to bed. Tomorrow is another day and I plan to write on the first book.