Thursday, November 13, 2014

Birthday Joy

La Favorites Birthday Splurge
Bradley is pleased with his contribution to the display.
Me--not so much.
For my special day I chose to go visit a specialty yarn shop over in Kelso and splurge on lace weight yarn for making things for myself.  Besides being a birthday blessing for myself it was a reward for several major recent accomplishments:


  • significant weight loss
  • finishing over a dozen small to medium sized crochet projects since August
  • finishing the mobius strip and thus nearing the finish line of the two year past due Secret Santa 2012 project.


I've been neglecting posting because of all that crocheting that was combined with prep for NaNo and now NaNo in progress.  I took pics of every project for posts and even opened drafts but never got posts ready to publish.  Am going to try to remedy that soon.

I've been thinking about making myself a skirt and top for several months as a kind of celebration of loosing enough weight for it to hang well on me.  That's what the three in front are for.  The solid is a merino wool and silk blend for a skirt and short sleeved top.  The variegated, a 100% baby alpaca, is for a second top and/or a long sleeved button up sweater or a shawl or a vest to wear with the skirt.

The long skein in the back is a nylon, silk and superwash blend with a silver thread in it that I intend to make a matching scarf and hat with.  The black and white with shades of grey is for making something to go with my grey knit skirt and top--a scarf and hat, a shawl or vest or a short sleeved top.  Most likely the scarf and hat as they would go with several other outfits or at least with my grey fleece jacket.  With 420 yards there might be enough to make fingerless gloves as well.  It is very soft acrylic and polyester blend with elasticity.

I will leave descriptions and intentions for the rest of the yarn and thread for another post.

The purple and pastel striped nylon bag is for holding a project that can hang off your wrist as you work and that has long been my preferred way to go.  I've made the project bags out of many found items including gift bags, ziplock bags with rubber bands, elastic headbands or ponytail bands attached, those transparent zippered bags of various sizes that cloth products are packaged in--again with elastic bands attached, the drawstring bags that sheet sets come in.  I even started to make myself a large one summer of 2011--the rainbow bag--which got set aside when I started work on my Secret Santa project in 2012 that is still unfinished :( and because of which I denied myself the right to return to work on any of the things I was making for myself.

I was excited to find that pretty wrist bag and decided to treat myself to it but because I'd just added up the amount of the yarn and thread and was already over my budget by about the cost of the bag I decided I would have to give up the equivalent and was going to put back the skein with the silver thread.  But my sister said, I think Mom would like to get you the bag.  So I kept the skein.

This was my second visit to La Favorites but the first time in their new location.  My first visit in January or February March 2013 was to their original location in a house which I thought was quite cute and felt a lot like visiting someone at home.  But they were outgrowing it and it wasn't very well lit for my visual impairment needs.  The lighting added to the crowding kept me anxious about knocking things over or off shelves and racks.

The new store is big and well lit with roomy isles.  And big tables for spreading out large projects as they encourage you to bring your knitting or crochet projects with you and hang around  plying your hooks and needles.

I'm thinking that is the perfect place for me to work on the crafter's tote now that I'm at the stage where I need to start laying out the panels and the mobius strip and pinning together the edges that will be joined.  This was supposed to be my Secret Santa gift for 2012!!!  For my sister-in-law.


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Saturday, October 18, 2014

My Brain on Books XV

I am reading for The Office of Letters and Lights the folks who bring us NaNoWriMo today as I love what they are doing for literacy with their Young Writer's Programs and because I've participated in NaNo every year since 2004 and will again next month.  I have been blessed to have it in my life and would like to give something back if only kudos and link love.  I'm putting this plug at the top in hopes some who stop by will check out their site and see all the great things they do to foster love of reading and writing and story in kids. If you happen to be doing Camp NaNo this year you can find me there as joywrite

This post will be organized like a blog inside a blog with recent updates stacked atop previous ones. I may be posting some updates on Twitter @Joystory and the Joystory fb fanpage. But this is where I do anything more than a line or two.  Including mini-challenges unless required to have a separate post..   




Be sure to scroll to bottom of this post for advice on how to ward off those scary nap attacks. You won't be sorry.




Ode to Dewey
by Joy Renee
We Miss You Dewey




4:00 AM - Wrapping up.  I'm taking Thomas Covenant to bed and will continue to read as long as I can.  Am hoping the activity of moving from my desk across the hall to the bed will revive me enough to hang in until 5.

Will be reading on my Nexus so will also have the option to go lurk on the thon blog and watch a music vid or two...





2:00 AM - After posting the last update I visited the thon hub and lurked for an hour or so and then spent the last several hours reading and browsing among the NF books relevant to my NaNo novel.  Among them:

  • Star Trek As Myth: Essays on Symbol and Archetype at the Final Frontier edited by Matthew Kapell (read the intro essay by Kapell)
  • The Monsters of Star Trek by Daniel Cohen
  • Living with Star Trek: American Culture and the Star Trek Universe by Lincoln Geraghty
  • The Physics of Star Trek by Lawrence M. Krauss
  • Fans, Bloggers and Gamers: Exploring Participatory Culture by Henry Jenkins
  • Textual Poachers: Television Fans & Participatory Culture by Henry Jenkins
  • Science Fiction Audiences: Watching Doctor Who and Star Trek by John Tulloch & Henry Jenkins

Browsing in a bunch of NF in a compressed time frame is one of my favorite things to do.  The ideas from each book cross pollinate and flashes of insight and quirky ideas proliferate. It's obvious how this would be true when the books are on a theme like this but it also works when the selection is random.

Next I'm going to read for a time in From Where You Dream by Robert Olen Butler, one of my top three favorite how-to-write-fiction books which I've been re-reading in preparation for NaNo then for the final stretch I'm returning to Lord Foul's Bane the novel that started my day.

Though I'm awfully tempted to call it a day.  The headache plaguing me since Thursday is finally receding and sleep, which was a struggle for the two nights preceding the thon is starting to seduce me.

But as I write this line there is only two more hours...

Rooster Fillet Bag - removable
10:00 PM - More of the same.  Several more hours of munching, sewing and listening to Area 51.  20 more tracks and 4 more beads.  It's tedious and frustrating work.  No wonder I procrastinated. :)

I keep snagging the thread and my hands on the pins inside and outside the bag.  Snarled thread forces me to choose between picking it apart or cutting it off and starting anew.  The deeper into the bag the more snags and snarls.  Desperately attempting to avoid a second fatal mistake of catching a thread on the crochet with the needle as the whole point of attaching the beads is to make the crochet removable so it can be laundered separately from the bag.

4 beads in 2 hours! Eleven more to go.  That's four beads added to what's seen in the pic I took this morning.  At least they aren't all taking me an hour like the first one did last Tuesday.  My goal is to have this project--along with my husband's birthday present finished last weekend--ready for the mail by Monday afternoon.

But I think I'm going to do something else for awhile.

Altho...I am enjoying listening to Jacobsen read her book and left off in the middle of a chapter--actually mid track--so I may at least finish that chapter before moving on.

Wallet Wannabe
6:30 PM - In the last several hours, while listening to Annie Jacobsen reading her expose on the history of Area 51, I've been alternately snacking and sipping and working to turn turn that flat, misshapen crochet piece to the left into the wallet/cardholder I'd envisioned last Tuesday evening.



Crochet Card Holder
Chalk up one to my campaign to finish what I start.  Although it is actually a small piece of a larger project that was meant to be my Secret Santa gift for last year!  And when I started working on this unplanned wallet, I was likely procrastinating the tedious work of sewing 20 of those beads onto the larger piece.

I'm often watching video while crocheting since I don't have to keep my eye on the work most of the time but not so with the finishing work like tucking tails, sewing, pinning, blocking.  But such things are working out well while listening to audio books.  I have been thinking so for some time but kept...putting off trying it.


12:45 PM - Well that was a mistake.  I chose to stay in bed this morning to read until the house heat came on and took the edge off the chill.  I fell asleep over Lord Foul.  My med alarm woke me at 9:30.  I resumed reading and fell asleep again!  Slept until after 11.

Spent the last hour taking care of nature's needs and moving back into my office with devices, snacks, drinks etc.

I have several hours worth of snacks and drinks gathered now.

I did read enough to advance in the ebook to nearly 50% so I managed to read nearly 20%.

I suspect part of the problem is the mild headache I have today left over from the serious one I had Thursday and Friday.  Reading on the Nexus seems to trigger motion sickness and I keep closing my eyes.

So I'm going to switch to an audio book.  Area 51 by Annie Jacobsen

6:00 AM - Introductory Meme
1) What fine part of the world are you reading from today?
Longview WA USA

2) Which book in your stack are you most looking forward to?
I have no prearranged stack.  The Thon snuck up on me.  I only learned Thursday evening.  No plan.  No prep.  I'm winging it. But off the cuff... I'm eager to delve into some of the NF books on Star Trek I've collected as research for my NaNo novel.

3) Which snack are you most looking forward to?
  I'm winging it with snacks too.  What comes to mind as possibilities are Baby Belle cheese and chocolate, hummus and veggies,  nachos...

4) Tell us a little something about yourself!
I'm a Star Trek uber fan since age 11.  My NaNoWriMo novel next month is about a teenage girl immersed in the online Star Trek fan community, who writes fan fiction.  For prep I'm rewatching all of the Star Trek episodes.  I started with Star Trek Enterprise in September and worked my way through the original series and nearly 6 season of The Next Generation so far. When I was a teen I had no knowledge of a fan community, no Internet and only syndicated episodes of TOS on a vacuum tube black and white TV with rabbit ear reception.

5) If you participated in the last read-a-thon, what’s one thing you’ll do different today? If this is your first read-a-thon, what are you most looking forward to?
This is my 15th Dewey Thon.  This is the first time I've winged it like this.

5:38 AM - Getting started now.  Was all set to go at 5 but had to restart my computer.

Am kicking off with Lord Foul's Bane by Stephen R. Donaldson.  This is a re-read which I first read in the late 70s.  I'm already about 30% in as the day begins.  I've begun rereading the two trilogies of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever in preparation for reading the 4 book series The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever for the first time.  It's an ebook I'm reading on my Nexus.

As I said in last night's post, I'm winging it today as I let the thon sneak up on me and only discovered it was this weekend on Thursday evening.




[I have this scheduled to go live at 4:44.  But if this bracketed paragraph is still here on top after 5 I don't have my eyes unglued enough to check in yet.  I will be here soon as I can.]




Fighting pose
 

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Friday, October 17, 2014

Friday Forays in Fiction: Winging It

Ravens Gathering in the Fog
by Alice Popkorn flickr
Dewey's 24 Hour Read-a-Thon is tomorrow.  It really snuck up on me.  I discovered it late last evening just as I was heading to bed and then had to be away from home all day today. Away from WiFi!  Horrors. :)

 Now I must get to sleep!  It starts for me in 8 hours.

I made no plans.  No prep.

I guess I'll be winging it.

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Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Read Me (ROW80 Check-In)

Read Me by Alice Popkorn - flickr

Another unintended hiatus.  12 days this time.  *Sigh*

The last one was grief-driven following two severe losses--the Rainbow Bridge crossing of my furbaby Merlin and the realization that it was unlikely a move back to the Rogue Valley Oregon to join my husband would take place before the fruit season began in August and his hours increased towards full time and thus would not happen before the holiday season was over.

Merlin got sick while I was still reeling over the May 11 anniversary of my last visit with Ed. When we finished packing up our house and Ed prepared to move back in with his parents while I returned with my sister to my mom's in Longview WA.  An unwanted separation required to make me eligible for healthcare after his company took it away from us. [see early entries under Lifequake label for details: January-February 2013]

This 12 day hiatus was driven by a team of black horses named Guilt and Remorse whipped mercilessly by Shame.  The triggering incident happened on the same day as the exhilarating coast trip that I posted about on the 6th, 7th, 8th, and 10th.  The day I found Happy after running full tilt on the beach and splashing through the surf.  It happened as the sun was setting while we were in the car traveling home on Saturday the 6th.

I seemed to be successfully putting it right through Wednesday the 10, when prepping my last ROW80 check-in, Toes in the Water.  But that was an illusion created by avoiding thinking about the incident until I started prepping for the next check-in on Thursday the 11th for my Saturday night ROW80 post (a version of this one) in which I intended to share aspects of that incident directly relevant to ROW80 Goals.  Revisiting the memory was like popping a nasty boil which foiled my attempts to write about it coherently.

The incident began benignly when my sister, Jamie, asked about my progress regarding my goals.  I shared a few of my most recent triumphs, setbacks and insights, including the story I shared in Room to Run (ROW80 Check-in) that same weekend.  In which I retold from memory an object lesson on time-management presented by a motivational speaker--the one about filling a bowl with big rocks followed by small rocks followed by gravel followed by sand...The point being that in order to fit in the big (most important or most time intensive) tasks they have to go on the schedule first.

At the end, my sister Carri, who was driving, chimed in with her concept of what constituted the big rocks--God and relationships topping her list.  Jamie added self-care, understandable in light of her chronic autoimmune illness.  Then Jamie turned to me and asked what my big rocks were.

I don't know whether it was because God, relationship and self-care had already been mentioned and seemed anyway to go without saying or it was because my mind was already on prepping my ROW80 for that night's post and thus my focus was on writing and the fact that for me writing had to be one of the big rocks.  At any rate I listed writing first and went on to share the insight that I shared in that night's ROW80--that I needed to return to the early bird schedule and this time it really was for me and not primarily to please anyone else.  Something that both my sisters had been after me about.

I also mentioned crochet because it was so closely tied in with the storydreaming for me and to my mind represented one of the only ways I had to gift others with something worth exponentially more than the small amount of cash I could afford to spend and because all the gifts I'd begun and never finished in the last two years were a weight of shame on my conscience.  Though I mentioned only the tie-in with storydreaming.

As my enthusiastic relation of all of this began to wind down, Jamie asked if she could repeat back to me what she was hearing and I agreed.  Within a dozen words though the balloon of my Happy, inflated by the romp in sand and surf, popped.  For what Jamie had heard me say was that my hobbies topped my list above relationship and God and self-care.  At that point my brain shut off my ears and I interrupted with a passionate "No!  Stop!" with intent to make clear that classifying 'writing' as a  hobby was completely misreading me.

Adding to my distress was the decades old nature of this misreading of me by my family and friends going back to my early teens and my assumption that Jamie was different.  She was not a blood sibling nor had we been children together.  She was the baby sister of a friend a few years younger than myself.  I'd known her from age 6 when I was in my early 20s, and babysat her a few times.  At age 13 she was orphaned and became a ward of my parents and my family had rallied around her soon accepting her as one of us.  She spent a lot of time at my house throughout her teens and by the time she entered her twenties when we could relate as adult to adult she had become my friend and confidant and we called each other sister-friend.

Jamie didn't stop at my interruption, so neither did I.  "Writing is NOT a hobby!"  I shouted, focused only on the thought that her 'repeating back what she had heard me saying' was so egregiously wrong in its first phrase that nothing correct could be built on its foundation.  Not only wrong but the use of the word hobby constituted a judgement, a prejudice against that which I identified as ME.

In the heat of that moment I had an epiphany and unlike myself did not withdraw to ruminate in silence on it but began expressing it, still talking over the top of Jamie.  "Writing is my spiritual practice, how I relate to the Divine as I define it.  Writing is my psychotherapy, how I relate to myself and discover who I am and what I stand for and what I want.  Writing is where I work on my marriage and other relationships between face-to-face encounters.  Writing is how I process all new information and experience.  Writing is how I learn and how I share what I know.  And anyone who really wants to know me needs only to read me!"

I did not get it all said nor as well said as the above before our exchange of 60 seconds or less had devolved with Jamie taking offence and raising her voice above what I could without loosing mine to accuse me of attacking her. And then my passion withered into weeping as it always did because of my childhood training that made all strong emotion other than tears anathema--the essence of disrespect.  And I had just raised my voice to a shout with my mother sitting in the seat in front of me.  An act that would have earned me the full force of her shaming tone between the ages of two and twenty if not the rare slap.

Jamie asked for a timeout.  My parting shot as I turned to stare through blurring tears out the window was a mumbled, "I was happy.  Why can't I just be happy? Why do I always get punished for being happy?"  I doubt anyone heard me as I barely heard myself over the hum of the tires.  But that set the tone for the next hour as I wept silently in the way Mom had taught me at age 7, holding my breath as all the muscles of my face exerted as for a scream or wail but keeping my jaws clenched against letting any sound out or displaying the 'ugly cry face'.

As I wept I flagellated myself over my shameful display, over abusing Jamie, and disrespecting my mother and all in all making a fool of myself.  Intermittent bouts of self-pity had me bemoanig the impossibility of complying with the expectations of all those who cared about me, claimed to want more 'relationship' with me yet seemed unable to relate to what I saw as the essence of me.  Not only did they equate my writing with leisure activities that should be relegated to the dregs of the day after all duties, obligations and commitments to others and self had been fulfilled, few showed any voluntary interest in reading my writings.

Jamie was the only one who had read nearly every story and partial story, every poem and essay and nearly every blog post and I'd shared my frustrations with this struggle with my family many times which made it so bewildering to hear her use the word hobby--the very attitude I'd been subjected to by my family since writing became an integral part of my life around age 9.  Because of this I strongly suspected she'd been participating in one of those "What are we going to do about Joy?" conversations I'd overheard many times before I left home and then heard about via one or more of the participants over the years since.

I couldn't know it was true but it felt true enough in the moment to feel like a betrayal. And to make me feel isolated and unsafe and motivate me to crawl back into my shell.

The gist of these conversations [between my parents, between them and one of my siblings, between Mom on the phone with her mother, one of her sisters, my step-grandmother, or her closest friend] were that my style of relating to others that was shy on steroids, my inability to shift my attention from one thing to another, my plethora of phobias, my violent startle reactions earning the unwary approaching me from behind an elbow in the gut or a glass of liquid in their face, my emotional volatility between elation and despair, my awkward, graceless klutziness in both word and deed, my reluctance to make eye-contact, my serial obsessions, my hoarding of weird stuff, my perfectionism that preferred a fail over turning in unfinished assignments, my aversion to change and most bewildering of all my twisted inside-out sense of priority were all as alien to them as if I'd been transplanted from another galaxy.  I was apparently the proverbial Changeling.

Since that night I've struggled with the fallout--the messed up ears and sinuses from the vigorous silent weeping, the shame and guilt and remorse, the second guessing of self, the withdrawal from social interaction, the endless self-punishment.  Among the latter was a choking off of the writing urge.

As always the less I wrote the deeper my mood fell and the less I wanted anything to do with myself or anybody else.  The less I wrote the more confused I got, the harder it became to find meaning in the daily drift, to find motivation to engage in any activity, to feel alive.

This is what writing means to me and even I can sense how alien that seems.  But without it it is I, myself, who feels alien to me.

[Jamie, I know you'll be reading this eventually and I want to thank you for giving your permission to share publicly a story that is not mine alone.  I wish to apologize again for my abysmal behavior that night and invite you to respond in comments or otherwise with any clarification or insight you might have had since that evening or after reading this.  I love you my sister-friend.]





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Friday, September 12, 2014

Friday Foray's in Fiction: Quote

Visions by Alice Popkorn -flickr

“The great Japanese film director Akira Kurosawa said that to be an artist means never to avert your eyes. And that's the hardest thing, because we want to flinch. The artist must go into the white hot center of himself, and our impulse when we get there is to look away and avert our eyes.”
― Robert Olen Butler
From Where You Dream

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Thursday, September 11, 2014

Block, Blocked, Blocking

Too soon to crow, but...


I started crocheting again last week.  Picked up the Rooster Filet that was my Secret Santa project last year.  Still not done tho its been in the stage of nearly done for six months.

As always I'm having issues with the finishing.  Not just getting it finished but with the finishing techniques that turn a fiber art project into a useful item.  This is the case with ninety percent of my unfinished projects.

Crafter's Duffle.
Including the Secret Santa  project from 2012 that is still unfinished primarily because the Mobius strip (that pile of brown on the left above) became too bulky to carry around after surpassing 4 inches in width and required a complex put away/get out protocol to prevent the thread tangling in the strip or loosing track of the working loop and risking unraveling an hour's work while fixing it.  Not to mention the time it took to fix it.

This has been a formidable block to working on the Mobius Strip for with a 5-10 minute get out/put away process it felt pointless to get it out unless I was sure of at least 45-60 minutes of uninterrupted work.  Time blocks of that size are rare and far between with all the duties I have here at Mom's and when I have them on the weekends she is at my brother's I usually need them for the sorting, organizing, rearranging projects and writing, research and exercise.

That is a getting-it-finished issue.  The finishing techniques issue is with the over 200 tails needing tucked on the panels seen in the picture to the left.

The Mobius strip is to serve as the bottom, side-pockets' back and carry strap for the crafter's duffle I designed myself in July 2012.  Working on it consumed the six months before Christmas 2012.  I worked 6 to 8 hours a day through August, stepping it up to 8-10 through Thanksgiving and then 16 to 20 through December 23.  I'd so miscalculated how much work was going to be involved!

I fully intended to maintain at least the 6-8 hour per day until it was done once I returned from the three week visit to Mom's in January 2013 but then the lifequake rocked my world and I never got to go home except for a few short visits until early May when there was no home to go home to.

I took it on the coast trip last Saturday and got a good 90 minutes of work on the way.  I thought it best to leave it safe in its bag for the return trip after we climbed back into the van with who knows how much sand in our clothes and hair and whatever that sticky stuff the wind plastered us with.  I could feel on my hands and face and legs where skin was exposed so knew it had to be in my clothes as well.

In that 90 minutes though I did make it all the way around one edge or 1/2 the entire Mobius or 8 feet of 2 chains + single crochet, repeat.  All the way around plus 18 inches.  Completing a Mobius round or both edges is 16 feet and adds 1/4 inch to the width.  It is now at 9.5 inches and I'm aiming for 12.  I'm sure I'll be speeding it up with practice. I was once doing the whole 16 feet inside 90 minutes.  Or two episodes of Stargate or Desperate Housewives or Madmen.  This weekend while Mom's gone it's going to be Star Trek Enterprise.

I'm probably going to be sorry I set it down that way to set up the photo shoot for the rooster filet.  Especially considering the unexpected offer of help I received:

No thank-you Bradley.  Not Helping.

Actually Bradley was asking me for help and holding my work hostage until I complied.

The rooster filet issue was with the blocking.  No amount of blocking was going to make a trapezoid into a rectangle.  The bottom was four inches wider than the top and one side was two inches shorter than the other.

This was probably the result of:
  • working on it in too many different moods which can change the tension causing the stitches to tighten up or loosen up
  • switching crochet hook sizes by accident which changes the size of the stitches

My solution was to work a row of slip stitches all the way around, adjusting tension intentionally to tighten up the looser stitches.  It seemed to be working until I got to the third edge--the wide bottom.  I worked it over and over before getting it right.  I probably reworked it a dozen times.  Sometimes I'd skipped stitches which caused the fabric to bunch.  That's a vision issue.  But the primary problem was keeping the tension just right.

I think I finally got it.  The test blocking looks promising though I still need to finish the 4th edge.

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Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Toes in the Water (ROW80 Check-In)

This pic of my sister at the surf's edge last Saturday is a
good depiction of my current stance toward my writing goals
one week after returning from a 2 month hiatus.


I made significant progress since last week when I finally broke my posting hiatus and jumped back into ROW80.  My round 3 goals as stated last Wednesday were:

  • Define my intent for round 4 and work to recover the story dream for Blow Me a Candy Kiss so I can return to the structural rewrite that was interrupted by my furbaby's final illness in late May.
I'm still fiddling around with defining Round 4 Goals.  Going slow on purpose.  Do not want to overdo them again.  So I'm taking mental notes as I observe the experiment I'm conducting as I add tasks back into the mix.

Progress has been in the second part--recovering the story dream for Candy Kiss and returning to the structural rewrite.  Since last Wednesday I've made a point of giving undivided attention to the story dream--essentially daydreaming it and jotting notes occasionally.  Until Monday this was done randomly at whatever time of day I could fit it in.

Then last week I began re-reading Robert Olen Butler 's From Where You Dream as it is the one that taught me how to daydream the story before starting to write scenes and why it was crucial to do so if you aspire to literary fiction. He also advised never to miss two days in a row of focused work on the story until the first draft is finished.  

He also stressed how important it was to begin work on your story each day first thing--before encountering or using language in any other capacity.  This takes advantage of having just been submerged in the unconscious where the story evolves and prevents being sucked out of the dream by the predominately abstract nature of mundane language usage.

This reminder, that seguing directly from sleep-dreaming to story-dreaming was in the best interests of the story, immediately quashed the dithering about whether to return to the early bird schedule. I had myself more than half convinced that I was a natural night owl and should stop fighting it. Yet I knew that at least for the duration of my stay here at Mom's the early morning hours are the most likely to be free of interruption.  Hence the dithering.  

There's now no wiggle-room for dithering. So I began moving my wake-up back from noonish to 9ish as a first step and making my first activity a 30 to 50 minute Candy Kiss daydream.  This morning, Wednesday, that was followed by two hours of research for the next scene followed by an hour or two of rewriting that scene in the Scrivener rewrite file garnering me several rewritten paragraphs and three completely new ones.

Altogether quite a successful week for writing.  And that doesn't even count keeping the daily post going with no more than a 24 hour lag on a few.  Besides which, I got several of the hiatus backlog posted--all of the Sunday Serenity and Chin Grin, the story of my bad fall on August 12.

I guess you could say I have my toes in the water.

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