Remember when I said I was writing a short story? Yeah, that thing.
I FINALLY FINISHED IT. Woohoo! One thing done. Now I can set it aside for a few days and then edit it, proofread it and do, oh something with it.
Seriously, I feel like confetti should be falling from the ceiling right now. Some dancing, a few drinks, maybe a bucket of ice cream.
Instead, I have a dog snoozing on the floor near my feet. Every so often, she farts. Celebration indeed. I’m mostly just proud of the fact that I finished it. The first one in geez, 10+ years? How the heck did I manage to crank out stories every month for workshopping? Yikes. Oh wait, I remember: copious amounts of hot chocolate, with Baileys. Creative fuel, right there.
Ack, dog just let out a stinker. Time to escape.
And it really isn’t just one of those holiday games. I frustratingly realized a pattern with my choices in names in my latest project so I’ve been trying to come up with new names while breaking the habit and getting a name that feels right to the character. And I have to avoid alliteration. Apparently my mind is terribly in love with M’s and V’s right now, because all the names are peppered with them. Somehow my brain can’t register that there are indeed 26 letters in the alphabet to choose from and gets very much stuck with those two. I haven’t done anything with apostrophes though; I’m always reluctant to start using them because I’ve seen them done TERRIBLY before and I’m always afraid that I’m going to fall into that same trap. So I’m trying out different names, combinations, misspellings and most of all, new letters.
Thank goodness for find and replace right? LIFESAVER.
Summer is over, it’s a gray day here and as I type, I’m watching a cat snooze on the cat tower, her body all curled up with one of her back legs extended onto the windowsill. She’s a bit big for the space; some of her bulge hangs off the edge and of course, there’s the extended leg, with her tail curled neatly under it. There’s something just wonderfully comforting to see this mass of fluffiness snoozing, her bulk rising and falling with each breath. Sometimes she even wheezes. It’s completely adorable. And such a damn distraction. She is obviously not plagued by worries and self-doubt and anxiety about word choice. Lucky thing.
(Lest you say, um, girl, you’re talking about a cat, they have no words…. Well. Let me assure you that yes indeed, this cat has words. She is the most verbose of all our creatures and has a full range of inflections and squeaks and meows that she makes to communicate. The cat, she has sass.)
…than a cat getting a bath? MahHubs and I just gave The Chunky Bear-Cat (also, our first-adopted, raised from kittenhood cat) a much needed rinse and soak. She is now sitting by my desk, back leg straight in the air as she tries to respit-herself.
I don’t know if we didn’t do a good enough job of cleaning her, or if she feels like she needs more cleaning.