So this happened…
Now I actually work on my WIP revisions. What the hell?
…and then it was 2014.
Yes, the holidays are over (for me), yet the Christmas/Yule/Sol Invictus/Hanukkah/Saturnalia/Hogsmanay* decorations are still up. Mainly because I have been too lazy to get the ladder inside to take the boxes down, but I’m sure it will magically all happen one night while I’m asleep, right? Right? Elves? Anyone?
Now – the real reason for this post is that I have decided (thanks to the inspiration of the wonderful Leigh Ann Kopans) to set a deadline for Bifrost. Yes, my book will be BLOODY FINISHED (and by this I mean edited and ready to roll) by:
Queue the band.
OK maybe not. BUT I am determined and this means that I have to get my arse writing. A lot.
The plan: To write close to 20 chapters in 16 weeks. In order to try and squeeze in some actual revision time, I plan to try and finish 2 chapters per week. Which is going to be very hard given that when I started this latest re-write I was achieving something close to 1 chapter per month!
So, with a lot of work ahead of me, I’d better A) write some and B) get the hell to bed so I can write some tomorrow!
*I’m not into one celebration than another and we always get the decorations up before Hannukah starts so why not?
Does it make sense to drive with your front bumper inside the boot of the car in front of you? I mean EVER – never mind when travelling at speeds above 110kph (68mph).
I only ask because after another frustrating drive along that glorious stretch of bitumen we call the Hume Highway, I am driven to question the motivations of certain fellow highway users.
The people who choose to overtake a truck at 1kph faster than the truck as the truck approaches a learner driver in their lane; the people who drive at twice the legal speed limit and flash their lights and honk when they arrive behind someone not going as fast as they are (hint: that’s everybody, dipshit – learn some patience for those of us who don’t want to die today); the people who seem to think that the adequate stopping room I’ve left between my car and the car in front is there exclusively for them to swing their car wildly into when they finally realise that the car in front of them is travelling slower than they are; the people who either choose not to engage cruise control or don’t have it and can’t maintain an even speed, then get upset when they are re-overtaken by those of us who can; the people who overtake at atmospheric-exit speed, pull in front of you, then brake and sit on a speed 5kph slower than you’re going; finally, most frustrating of all, the people who travel SLOWLY along an entrance ramp to the highway and are then forced to stop because they’re going too bloody slow! Get yourself up to the same speed as the highway and you can fucking MERGE! YOU ARE KILLING ME!
There are so many others I still do not understand, but at highway speeds, accidents will usually result in someone dying and quite frankly I’d rather it not be me or anyone in my car, so if you are one of the above people – please, please try not to use the highway on the weekend or buy me some good quality drugs so I can have some hope of understanding why you want to drive the way you drive.
Last night I was feeling pretty dejected after what had been a below average 24-hours. Co-Consul arrived home late and we talked until far-too-late about the world and it gave me a reminder that even the preceding 24-hours had been nothing to worry about.
You see Co-Consul went out last night with a friend of ours who’s child has a manageable yet very serious disease. Without going into any detail which may identify this person or their child, there was an incident at the child’s school recently which resulted in emergency action having to be taken to prevent her slipping into a coma and dying. Our young friend came through feeling a bit sick, but otherwise fine which was a fantastic outcome all things considered.
I imagined myself having to take THAT call from our school and oh boy does my life look mundane and rather warm and cosy by comparison. Even with a large dent in the car and a split lip. Let me just put it out there – our friend is an INCREDIBLE person, she takes these thing with a grace and patience that I physically do not possess. Of course she gets upset (who wouldn’t), but there are few people in the world I respect more. Her daughter also deals with her cards life has dealt her with amazing ease and a cheeky confidence. We are fortunate to know them.
To add to my healthy dose of perspective, this morning I learned that the bridge was closed to road traffic as well as trains last night, so even my bus would have been stranded and possibly for longer because that exit we missed because I was blind would have taken us right into the mess on the bridge, while the road we accidentally went down took us through the perfectly clear tunnel.
Amazing what half a good night’s sleep will do for your perspective.
Right now I am standing under the awning of a Subway. No, not the underground trains, the sandwich shop. Anyway, it’s raining, it’s around half the temperature it was when I left home this morning and there is a tree across from me with what I can only assume is all of the lorikeets in the entire world each screeching like a teenage girl on a roller coaster.
As I’m waiting here in this shite weather with my ears being assaulted by a thousand tiny, colourful birds, I am contemplating my last 24 hours…
So far I have been told twice by our 3-year-old to stop fighting with Co-Consul (we have had a couple of rare arguments), I have crashed the car (hence argument #2), clashed heads with Co-Consul in the middle of the night and split my lip (hoping it was accidental) and tonight, due to the driving rain, I opted to take up the offer from a colleague of a lift to the station rather than take my usual bus.
I waited 20 mins for a train which comes apparently every 10 and my live timetable suggested it had been 35 since the last train. This was a bad sign and I knew it, but I was at the station now and there are no homeward bus stops within cooee of the station, so I waited. After my 20 mins, I get my train and we had gone exactly 2 stops when the nice lady on the intercom explained that the train would not be moving any further, that the bridge was closed and we should take a bus. Immediately I understood why the train was late and realised that had I taken the bus I would have been very close to home right now (if busses are still running over the bridge, it had to be train-centric trouble).
As quickly as I could with the crush of dejected commuters, I got off the platform, out of the station and to the bus terminal – I had only 30 minutes in which to get home before Co-Consul had to leave to go out. At the bus terminal I found around 300 people waiting for the promised busses. I would be 301 which would mean I would be heading home on bus #5 and there were currently no busses in sight. I dashed around to the taxi rank, staying close to the road and looking out for a chance cab (there were none), when I arrived at the taxi rank I found another fifty people. Taxi #51 for me. I took the desperate measure of trying to find a taxi on the complete opposite side of the station and shopping centre and, of course, the story was exactly the same over there.
I was screwed.
So I called Co-Consul and explained the situation. Knowing the only option which would get her to the theatre in time, she bundled the kids in the car and came to pick me up.
…later that evening…
Though she knew it was not my fault, Co-Consul was stressed by the whole ordeal of bundling numerous overtired kids into a car and rushing out to rescue me (and her night out) and I didn’t help when without my glasses I put us into the wrong lane back over the bridge and we missed the turn-off to the city.
Long story short – abysmal 24 hours. I have a sore lip, the insurance company is likely to gleefully put our premiums up, Co-Consul is (fairly reasonably) mad at me and I haven’t done any work on my WIP tonight.
So the barista class I did last night was completely ace. I learned about coffee (who knew it wasn’t actually a bean!?!), I learned how to make a good coffee in a variety of (for me at least) redundant fashions (who needs more than a flat white?) and I drunk enough of the coffee I made to keep me awake until around 01:45am. I tried to write, but my brain was fuzzy and scatty which meant that my attention span was non-existent.
WOW. Coffee hasn’t affected me like that since highschool. I suppose that’s what tasting everything you make and drinking the odd whole cup will do to you. *twitch*
Worked a little on my steampunk WIP tonight, but ran out of awake. Not sure if I have the MC’s name right, but of course it won’t matter until I finish Bifrost & actually seriously start that book.