![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Prize-winning Paper
Well it's just gone and won the journal's best paper award.
I continue to think one should be wary of indulging in futurism and remain glad I managed to keep the words "Rogue AI" out of it.
Which 2009 Clarke Award Finalists Have You Read?
Song of Time by Ian R. MacLeod
0 (0.0%)
Anathem by Neal Stephenson
10 (71.4%)
House of Suns by Alastair Reynolds
3 (21.4%)
Martin Martin's on the Other Side by Mark Wernham
0 (0.0%)
The Margarets by Sheri S. Tepper
4 (28.6%)
The Quiet War by Paul J. McAuley
2 (14.3%)
What went before: And that's the Author's Afterword for I Dare written. I'll go through it again tomorrow morning, make whatever changes seem good, and send it in before I get back with the WIP.
The plan for the rest of the evening is to go to bed early, and re-establish my fractured schedule tomorrow. Oh. And do the laundry.
Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.
Monday. Ruthlessly bright and already warm. We are under a Heat Advisory, today and tomorrow.
Station air is ON, and all curtains closed.
Breakfast was half a blueberry muffin and plain yogurt. Lunch may be Door Dashed. We'll see.
First load of laundry is drying; second is in the washer.
I actually slept well last night, which isn't something we've seen for a couple of weeks. I could really use a good run of Actual Sleep, as I walk the Tightrope of Exhaustion.
It comes about that I'm going to have produce the habit of having honey in my tea. There are reasons and they are good ones, however, absent an occasional spoon of honey in peppermint tea (which is AWEsome), I drink my tea as my coffee before it -- black. Honey itself is not the problem; Steve left me several three pound bottles of very fine honey from a local apiary (this is aside my baking honey). My problem is that -- it's hard to manipulate a three pound bottle of honey to get a spoonful into a mug, and, also, that honey is -- sticky. And it drips.
I have for the moment decanted a small portion of honey into a well-sealed glass jar, which makes it easier to dispense by the spoonful, but I feel I ought to look about me for a method that might be less drippy. Shopping!
Aside the laundry, and one's duty to the cats, the to-do list includes reading the Author's Afterword, making such corrections as may be needful and sending it along to Baen. I will devote the day after lunch to my poor, long-suffering WIP, and to staying out of the heat.
What are your plans, today?
Today's blog post title comes from Pablo Neruda, one of Steve's favored poets: "Cat's Dream"
Pretty big fire on Arthur's Seat.
(The kids were just discussing whether the volcano had erupted, which
I think we're pretty safe from.)
Original
is here on Pixelfed.scot.
Sunday. Sunny and said to be heading for warm.
Yesterday continued off-kilter, and it's not too much to say that it actually went into a spin. Today I must and, she says determinedly, I will, write the Author's Afterword for I Dare.
First, though, I need to find breakfast and make a list so that I may dash out to the grocery. I'm almost out of cat food, and that obviously cannot be allowed to stand.
How's everybody doing?
What went before: So, today has been a mismash of working and laying around. I did get some WIP-reading done, and a lot more of lying in bed by turns listening to The Goblin Emperor (which I know so well I'm not stressed about missing things) and dozing. Back is still tender, but not so much as even this morning, so, yanno -- progress progresses.
I'm hoping to be done with the worst of this particular brand of nonsense by tomorrow. fingers crossed
The cats are liking the lying in bed part of the day's structure. I fear they're going to be disappointed when the schedule returns to what I like to call normal.
I may try to get one more shift of WIP-reading in this evening. Or I may just watch the last three episodes of WandaVision.
Everybody stay safe; I'll check in tomorrow.
Saturday. Cool-for-now and sunny. Windows in my office are open.
Woke up early and ill, but hey! At least my back doesn't hurt. Currently sipping ginger ale. Trooper has had his morning gravy-with-meds.
I did watch the last three episodes of WandaVision last night. Pulling the witch out the hat was . . . facile, and honestly, I'm not inclined to follow Agnes any further down her road.
I'm actually amazed that Marvel tried to undertake a story about life-changing grief, and that they managed as well as they did. Even unto that very difficult -- and correct -- ending. And Wanda's love for Vision did not allow her to remember/recreate him wrongly.
One of the things that we as writers do over and over is to use death as a plot device -- the motivating force that triggers the Real Story. And while it's true that the Lost Girl, the Dead Spouse, the Slaughtered Village releases a lot of energy, surely there are other means available?
Going back to Wanda -- I'm interested in the smart girl with the bright red lipstick -- Darcy? -- who seems to be a continuing character. Does anyone know where I might find more of her?
And on that note -- woman does not take her meds on ginger ale alone, so I'd better see what I can cobble together and call breakfast.
I expect it will be another Off-Kilter Day here.
What's the day looking like there?
Rosebush proof of life:
Every year at Sidmouth Folk Festival, they hold a jig competition. A jog is a traditional dance (either solo or with two people) that is far, far more knackering than it looks.
I remember watching Emma dancing with a morris team a few years ago, and asking if she was entering the competition. She's really a brilliant dancer.
She almost floats on her feet!