There's a thunderstorm building up momentum outside. I can't wait for the humidity to break - it's been too damn hot all day. The lights keep browning out. I should be doing something sensible and adult-like, perhaps making my dinner before the power goes out completely.
But I'm not. I'm starting another blog. The old stuff is still available at the same bat time on the same bat channel. Looking through it you might find that on this day one year ago I was.... halfway through The Tournament by Matthew Reilly.
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I don't power off. If I'm not working, then I'm writing. If I'm not writing, I'm trying to get some crazy idea off the ground. Today I took a day off work because I was spewing out of both ends the night before (don't worry, it happens all the time, and it's not from drinking, thank you very much) and this morning I got to experience first hand how it feels to be a mummified corpse. Anyway, big mistake. This body doesn't do well in the summer heat. It needs to be in an air conditioned office, sipping tea, nodding, and asking people how they feel. I tried to rest. Didn't happen. After eight liters of water, I started to feel slightly human again so I tried to get some writing done. I'm usually pretty disciplined. But not today. Blame the heat. Blame the dehydration. Blame the lack of innards because they all became outards. Whatever the reason, I ended up creating this website instead. Please ignore the time that I wrote about procrastination. Running my mouth is my main form of exercise.
Instead, may I please draw your attention to the lovely writing page I set up that displays some of my completed works. Most of them are Labyrinth challenges. There's nothing like a competition to get me fired up to put fingers to keyboard. That and Zombie Typocalypse. :)
This month, Vert Glace came back into one document with 99k+ words. Despite my detour into website making land, I did manage to work on it a little bit today. I'm currently on page 32 of 209 and it has been whittled down to 97k+. I don't know how other writers feel at this stage of their work, but I am absolutely hating on the story and everyone in it right now. Correction: I hate editing the story and everyone in it. Writing is so fun. Editing sucks cheese balls.
But I'm not. I'm starting another blog. The old stuff is still available at the same bat time on the same bat channel. Looking through it you might find that on this day one year ago I was.... halfway through The Tournament by Matthew Reilly.
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I don't power off. If I'm not working, then I'm writing. If I'm not writing, I'm trying to get some crazy idea off the ground. Today I took a day off work because I was spewing out of both ends the night before (don't worry, it happens all the time, and it's not from drinking, thank you very much) and this morning I got to experience first hand how it feels to be a mummified corpse. Anyway, big mistake. This body doesn't do well in the summer heat. It needs to be in an air conditioned office, sipping tea, nodding, and asking people how they feel. I tried to rest. Didn't happen. After eight liters of water, I started to feel slightly human again so I tried to get some writing done. I'm usually pretty disciplined. But not today. Blame the heat. Blame the dehydration. Blame the lack of innards because they all became outards. Whatever the reason, I ended up creating this website instead. Please ignore the time that I wrote about procrastination. Running my mouth is my main form of exercise.
Instead, may I please draw your attention to the lovely writing page I set up that displays some of my completed works. Most of them are Labyrinth challenges. There's nothing like a competition to get me fired up to put fingers to keyboard. That and Zombie Typocalypse. :)
This month, Vert Glace came back into one document with 99k+ words. Despite my detour into website making land, I did manage to work on it a little bit today. I'm currently on page 32 of 209 and it has been whittled down to 97k+. I don't know how other writers feel at this stage of their work, but I am absolutely hating on the story and everyone in it right now. Correction: I hate editing the story and everyone in it. Writing is so fun. Editing sucks cheese balls.
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