So if the amount I've handwritten today were part of NaNoWriMo, and my estimations on the count are correct, I'd be about a fifth, maybe more like a quarter or a third of the way done. 32 pages of narrow rule.
And the night is still young.
Too bad it's not fiction, right?
Monday, January 21, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Five years
We all have pet projects, the ones that we can't let go of, no matter how much we try. Mine started as a trial run for NaNo 2007, after I had a dream I had to get out or I was going to lose it. What followed was about 20,000 words in a handful of Moleskine cahiers over the course of the week of fall break. I've worked on it in bursts over the years, first as a continuous story, then as a discontinuous set of shorts that weave in and out of the original idea, and take it from a novel to an epic. What once spanned two years now covers fifteen.
Last night, I had a revelation. There is a key event that is the premise for most of the action in the story. Without it, the dream I had makes no sense. In the past, I'd just danced around what happened, the mechanics, but five years and three months after I wrote the first words, it finally came together. I know how out all happened, and it works. It's beautiful.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Human hand
The human hand was not designed to write thousands of words a day, every day, with a pen.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
I am a scientist...
...and I know it!!
If you need a pick me up--but with a disclaimer that if you aren't a scientist or aren't familiar with this world, you may not find them as hilariously awesome as I think they are--but still. Check it out.
#overlyhonestmethods
On twitter.
If you need a pick me up--but with a disclaimer that if you aren't a scientist or aren't familiar with this world, you may not find them as hilariously awesome as I think they are--but still. Check it out.
#overlyhonestmethods
On twitter.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Friday, December 21, 2012
Caution.
May be prone to any of the following:
Loud Shrieks
Squacking
Squacks
Plocks
Crows
Whistles
Other loud noises
Louder Noises
Kermit Like Spazzes
Loud Shrieks
Squacking
Squacks
Plocks
Crows
Whistles
Other loud noises
Louder Noises
Kermit Like Spazzes
Monday, December 10, 2012
Slight Anger
You know when you ask a friend and artisan to make you a gift for Christmas, and then they bail on you?
Yeah, just happened to me.
And I'm kind of angry.
Okay, really angry.
Not trying to melt down and rage. And really trying hard not to tell him he ruined Christmas.
Yup.
Yeah, just happened to me.
And I'm kind of angry.
Okay, really angry.
Not trying to melt down and rage. And really trying hard not to tell him he ruined Christmas.
Yup.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Hipster Identity
*deep breath*
Going to admit it.
I think I've become a hipster.
Most of you in the typosphere are aware of this term, as it has a direct impact on the growing costs of typewriters, so I'm not going to define it in general. However, I will clarify what I mean by it.
Where I'm from, there are different types of hipsters--and all of this is gross generalization, I know, so sorry if I offend anyone. You have the hipster hipsters, who look homeless as they sit on their Macbook Pro outside the local coffee shop. There's the drunk hipsters, who love their PBR. There's the scientists, hanging out at coffee hour, riding their 80s road bikes all over campus. And then there is the group that I feel like I belong to--and one of the more prevalent groups where I come from--the outdoors hipster.
We're the ones who drive the "outdoorsy" car--usually a Subaru, often covered with stickers from companies we by our gear from, bike or ski rack on the top, and of course, dirty, because we have to let everyone know that we do stuff outside. We wear the skinny jeans and flannel shirts and boots partially because it is stylish, and partially because it is practical. See, cool thing about skinny jeans is that they don't get caught in bike chains--because yeah, we tend to ride bikes. We do things like rock climb and ski and hike and generally enjoy being outdoors. Some enjoy their microbrews and local food, while others love the cheapness of PBR. We're all about supporting our small local businesses--coffeshops and gear shops and those quirky little bookshops that pop up in random places.
I definitely fit into that category. No, I don't exactly drive a Subaru, but the only reason that my car isn't covered in stickers is that they got lost in the move. I own and use multiple typewriters, write movies and novels, and my daily pen case carries more than one fountain pen. I ride my bike most days, but have carried a Timbuktu bag for far longer than I've been riding my bike--same for the skinny jeans too. One of the things I miss most about home are those quirky little shops--there aren't the used bookstores and stationary shops and galleries and hole in the wall restaurants here that we had at home. Same with coffeeshops. I've found one, so far, that even comes close to fitting the category of cool local place--in the middle of a shopping mall. Whole foods is mainstream, which is good, because there aren't little markets anywhere either. The guys at the gear shop here are more used to tourists than locals, you can tell that. But it's okay. I'm bringing my slight hipsterness to where I live, so that's a good thing, right?
Funny thing is hipster is one group I never really planned on fitting into, but when I think about the people back home, and look for an easy way to explain them to the people I meet, it's the one word that kinda describes us. That, and hippies, the kind that wear Chacos until the snow is deep and are proud to show up to class covered in dirt from an early morning climbing trip, and will serve you squash for dinner when you go home with them. I guess we're a weird combination of both.
And that's where we kind of aren't hipsters. We don't like things because they're ironic or do them to make a point. We do what we do, love what we love because we love it, pure and simple. I collect typewriters and fountain pens because they make me happy. I ride my bike to save gas and to exercise--I do far too much sitting on my butt lately. I eat organic produce not because it costs more or makes any sort of statement. It just lasts longer and tastes better--shopping at Whole Foods isn't a status thing for me. It mostly just keeps my body happier.
So maybe my calling myself a hipster isn't exactly true. I have the traits but it's not something that I could ever give myself fully too--I'm too much of a hippie to ever adhere to one school of thought. But, I will admit to embracing my hipster side. And, now, I'm proud of it.
Going to admit it.
I think I've become a hipster.
Most of you in the typosphere are aware of this term, as it has a direct impact on the growing costs of typewriters, so I'm not going to define it in general. However, I will clarify what I mean by it.
Where I'm from, there are different types of hipsters--and all of this is gross generalization, I know, so sorry if I offend anyone. You have the hipster hipsters, who look homeless as they sit on their Macbook Pro outside the local coffee shop. There's the drunk hipsters, who love their PBR. There's the scientists, hanging out at coffee hour, riding their 80s road bikes all over campus. And then there is the group that I feel like I belong to--and one of the more prevalent groups where I come from--the outdoors hipster.
We're the ones who drive the "outdoorsy" car--usually a Subaru, often covered with stickers from companies we by our gear from, bike or ski rack on the top, and of course, dirty, because we have to let everyone know that we do stuff outside. We wear the skinny jeans and flannel shirts and boots partially because it is stylish, and partially because it is practical. See, cool thing about skinny jeans is that they don't get caught in bike chains--because yeah, we tend to ride bikes. We do things like rock climb and ski and hike and generally enjoy being outdoors. Some enjoy their microbrews and local food, while others love the cheapness of PBR. We're all about supporting our small local businesses--coffeshops and gear shops and those quirky little bookshops that pop up in random places.
I definitely fit into that category. No, I don't exactly drive a Subaru, but the only reason that my car isn't covered in stickers is that they got lost in the move. I own and use multiple typewriters, write movies and novels, and my daily pen case carries more than one fountain pen. I ride my bike most days, but have carried a Timbuktu bag for far longer than I've been riding my bike--same for the skinny jeans too. One of the things I miss most about home are those quirky little shops--there aren't the used bookstores and stationary shops and galleries and hole in the wall restaurants here that we had at home. Same with coffeeshops. I've found one, so far, that even comes close to fitting the category of cool local place--in the middle of a shopping mall. Whole foods is mainstream, which is good, because there aren't little markets anywhere either. The guys at the gear shop here are more used to tourists than locals, you can tell that. But it's okay. I'm bringing my slight hipsterness to where I live, so that's a good thing, right?
Funny thing is hipster is one group I never really planned on fitting into, but when I think about the people back home, and look for an easy way to explain them to the people I meet, it's the one word that kinda describes us. That, and hippies, the kind that wear Chacos until the snow is deep and are proud to show up to class covered in dirt from an early morning climbing trip, and will serve you squash for dinner when you go home with them. I guess we're a weird combination of both.
And that's where we kind of aren't hipsters. We don't like things because they're ironic or do them to make a point. We do what we do, love what we love because we love it, pure and simple. I collect typewriters and fountain pens because they make me happy. I ride my bike to save gas and to exercise--I do far too much sitting on my butt lately. I eat organic produce not because it costs more or makes any sort of statement. It just lasts longer and tastes better--shopping at Whole Foods isn't a status thing for me. It mostly just keeps my body happier.
So maybe my calling myself a hipster isn't exactly true. I have the traits but it's not something that I could ever give myself fully too--I'm too much of a hippie to ever adhere to one school of thought. But, I will admit to embracing my hipster side. And, now, I'm proud of it.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Halfway!
Crossed it! Many thanks to Brother Simon for the inspiration! 1000 words in maybe 20 minutes that felt like five? That's a great feeling!!
RHINO I LOVE YOU, wherever you are...
RHINO I LOVE YOU, wherever you are...
Thursday, November 1, 2012
And lo, there were shenanigans.
And squid.
Yes. I'm writing a blog post rather than working on one of my two nano novels. Huzzah!!!!
And I'm laughing at how strange one of my profs is... I don't know what they used to put into the water int he Eastern Bloc...
Yes. I'm writing a blog post rather than working on one of my two nano novels. Huzzah!!!!
And I'm laughing at how strange one of my profs is... I don't know what they used to put into the water int he Eastern Bloc...
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
November, November
Can't it be here already? I admit that the Vignette Challenge was a fail, but I'm kinda getting excited for NaNo...
Saturday, October 13, 2012
In which I declare this year's vignette challege over.
Also known as in which I decide to scrap this year's vignette challenge.
Or I admit defeat.
I just couldn't get into it.
I know what I billed the vignette challenge as--a way to prep for NaNo and get the groove started. That's what I honestly thought it would be. But that just isn't happening, at least for me. This year, NaNo is going to rely on a bunch of cards with random phrases on it, and I'm hoping that that will work. Otherwise, things will be rougher than this month has been.
And other news... I officially give up the hunt for a typewriter. I've been to a handful of stores lately, and nothing down here. Nothing. So, I'm giving it up. Yeah. Yup.
Or I admit defeat.
I just couldn't get into it.
I know what I billed the vignette challenge as--a way to prep for NaNo and get the groove started. That's what I honestly thought it would be. But that just isn't happening, at least for me. This year, NaNo is going to rely on a bunch of cards with random phrases on it, and I'm hoping that that will work. Otherwise, things will be rougher than this month has been.
And other news... I officially give up the hunt for a typewriter. I've been to a handful of stores lately, and nothing down here. Nothing. So, I'm giving it up. Yeah. Yup.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Dos: Paraphernalia
Brought to you courtesy of the Remington #3
Also visible in this image: my Saran Wrap platen fix!
Monday, October 1, 2012
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
October Approaches...
...and with it, this year's vignette challenge. It's a great way to get your brain groovin for NaNo.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Stolen Quote
So, with NaNoWriMo and the Vignette Challenge coming up, I just want to inspire you with a quote I stole off the comments of Mr. Clemens' latest blog post:
"Having time and the ability to write are not prerequisites. Otherwise a lot of us would be in serious trouble."
Yup. very true.
Now back to work!!!
"Having time and the ability to write are not prerequisites. Otherwise a lot of us would be in serious trouble."
Yup. very true.
Now back to work!!!
Monday, September 10, 2012
The New Vignette Challenge
Well, I was all set to run this challenge in September, but it didn't happen--still trying to get into the groove of school, and to flat out start writing again. That said, I would like to announce the second annual vignette challenge--October 1-31. Think of it as a prep for NaNowriMo. If you remember how this goes, awesome. For those of you who are new to Ars de Carta and my random challenges, the vignette challenge is thus:
So!
As many of you know, I love vignettes. Small portraits of a moment, a place, a time. So, to help with writing the many essays that will be coming this summer, I want to introduce a challenge.
15 vignettes, thirty (one) days. 15 snapshots, related or unrelated--it doesn't matter. (and neither does length!) The challenge starts October 1.
Indicate your interest in the comments. I look forward to seeing the vignettes you all come up with--I for one will be posting my 15 on arsdecarta.
Cheers
Art
So... Who is in this year?
So!
As many of you know, I love vignettes. Small portraits of a moment, a place, a time. So, to help with writing the many essays that will be coming this summer, I want to introduce a challenge.
15 vignettes, thirty (one) days. 15 snapshots, related or unrelated--it doesn't matter. (and neither does length!) The challenge starts October 1.
Indicate your interest in the comments. I look forward to seeing the vignettes you all come up with--I for one will be posting my 15 on arsdecarta.
Cheers
Art
So... Who is in this year?
Monday, September 3, 2012
So...
Why does the urge to read manifest itself when we have so much to do, but not when we're bored? Why do household chores we always avoid become so appealing at the eleventh hour? What is it about mind numbingly stupid flash games that can drag us in and never let us up?
Oh, if I could find the answers to these questions.
Oh, if I could find the answers to these questions.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
The Great Cricket Hunt
It's always funny how something so small can cause a ruckus.
My place looks like a tornado hit it, and it's all because of this little guy.
So there's even a story here.
Two nights ago, I fell asleep on the couch studying. Half woke up, the lights still on, I see something on the floor. I realize it might be a bug, but roll over because I'm tired. Kinda thought about it in the morning, but didn't give it much thought beyond that.
Last night, sitting there watching TV instead of studying, and he comes out again. I try to hit him with a binder, he jumps away. I look around, don't see him, so I give it up as a lost cause.
So maybe ten minutes ago, about the same time as last night, I see him. And try to hit him again. This time, I must have stunned him a bit, because his jump was to somewhere that I could see. Try again, and he jumps away again. So I start tearing my place apart, holding a very heavy physio text with the intention of smashing him. Of course, it turns out it's not as easy as you'd think to use a textbook to smash a bug, and I trip over my whiteboard and my computer so he doesn't jump on me. The search continues, moving books and pillows and stuff to find him (and rug burning my knuckle somehow), until I realize that he's under my couch. The whiteboard becomes a weapon, one I never get to use. I discover he's jumped to where I keep my shoes.
This was the end. Chacos turned out to be his demise.Cricket is no more. I kinda felt bad, but that was before the primal rush of triumphing over a small insect set in. It felt good.
Okay, back to studying now.
So there's even a story here.
Two nights ago, I fell asleep on the couch studying. Half woke up, the lights still on, I see something on the floor. I realize it might be a bug, but roll over because I'm tired. Kinda thought about it in the morning, but didn't give it much thought beyond that.
Last night, sitting there watching TV instead of studying, and he comes out again. I try to hit him with a binder, he jumps away. I look around, don't see him, so I give it up as a lost cause.
So maybe ten minutes ago, about the same time as last night, I see him. And try to hit him again. This time, I must have stunned him a bit, because his jump was to somewhere that I could see. Try again, and he jumps away again. So I start tearing my place apart, holding a very heavy physio text with the intention of smashing him. Of course, it turns out it's not as easy as you'd think to use a textbook to smash a bug, and I trip over my whiteboard and my computer so he doesn't jump on me. The search continues, moving books and pillows and stuff to find him (and rug burning my knuckle somehow), until I realize that he's under my couch. The whiteboard becomes a weapon, one I never get to use. I discover he's jumped to where I keep my shoes.
This was the end. Chacos turned out to be his demise.Cricket is no more. I kinda felt bad, but that was before the primal rush of triumphing over a small insect set in. It felt good.
Okay, back to studying now.
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