Sunday, August 28, 2005
Insert Clever Title Here. Ouch.
So, we're home from the soccer tournament. I do have writing news, but first, I wish to mention that among the many bad things to happen this weekend (overshadowed for a time by the contact lense incident) was that on Saturday AM as I was getting stuff out of the trunk of my car, the trunk came down and smacked me on the bridge of the nose. It really hurt at the time. But no blood or anything so whatever, right? Except by Saturday eve it still really, really hurt. Like a lot. And Sunday morning I woke up with a killer headache. I actually stayed up late and got up early to work on the laptop. I got more done in less time with the use of two eyes, which was good. I had tea with breakfast - no help for the headache which remained persistent and painful and I thought it was caffeine deprivation, but it didn't go away even after a quad cappucino (4 shots being necessary because it was an off-the freeway place that I just knew didn't really know how to make espresso and I was right. 4 shots made it just barely past a normal cap.) The headache didn't go away. Odd, thought I, and kind of annoying. Basically, about an hour ago, I finally realized the headache is due to getting smacked on the nose very hard. That whole part of my head hurts.
Moving right along. I printed off all the chapters for The Rake and brought them with me on my soccer adventure. So, at some point I was working on chapter one - in the afternoon, between games and before the dread contact lense
incident and
flash it occurs to me that I need to make my heroine the sister of my hero's best friend. And, here's the funny part for any writer who read this far (note: in one small hotel room, there are two adults and 4 children, 3 of which are noisy, high-engery 10-11 yo boys - all parents of similar boys will understand what this means to the level of noise)
So, I'm sitting there, staring into space mentally tracking through the implications and mentally tracking all the necessary adjustments to heft of the story, and making sure that this change will work BEFORE I start ripping things to shreds, the other mother looks at me and says, something along the lines of "Is something wrong? Are you all right?" Because as I was experiencing the excitement of having stumbled upon a brilliant change while that same time realizing there were darlings to cut, my expression is apparently worrisome to those who are not writers. I believe she thought I was either psychotic or having some sort of attack.
So, that was my weekend. My head hurts. Ouch. I have to wear my dorky glasses, which I hate because I don't see as well (no peripheral vision, to start with). Plus, I have pristine printed pages of The Rake and I never even got past page 1 for crying out out, and now there's no point in reading them because it's all going to change. No tree saving here. But all things considered, I'm thrilled, thrilled thrilled with my adjustment because now I know what to do with the middle and back 4th of the story, which I was getting worried about.
