Bhagwan @ Large

Dear Universe…

Thanks.

No, really. I mean it.

What would a day be without more day? Yesterday’s 2.5 hours of sleep was awesome, especially combined with Day 4’s schedule of vegetables, vegetables,and fruit.

Nothing like gnawing hunger to keep me awake and focused all day. While it did afford me the opportunity to watch some movies, recorded tv and listen to some music, the writing got hard, and I’ll most likely throw some of those words out during revisions.

Thanks for sending this book to me in chronological sequence, for once. Unfolding scene by scene, with only the most tenous of over-arcing plots.

Mind you, you’ve brought me a good one this time, especially since your plan of forcing it into my brain over the last 4 months made it nearly impossible for me to write any other fiction not bought and paid for by corporate overlords.

At least I know how it ends. But the characters keep weaving themselves into one another, and their voices are getting tricksy to separate.

For the record, until two days ago this was Space Opera, not military sci-fi. Though I understand folks enjoy that sort of story.

I Know I do. Getting to read this one before anyone else is kinda fun.

Thanks also for Cheap Red Wine, and the profitable Poker Face it brings. Thanks also for top pair, top kicker, and the knowledge of when to fold it.

Los Gatos want me to add, “MrrRrrRrrow?” I told them that was rude, but Maleficent insists. For some reason, she’s convinced you’re responsible, and by you, I mean me.

Medea has only her baleful witchy green glare to add, having spent this week’s budget of non food-related mrrows 4 hours ago, when we first attempted this sleep thing.

Thanks for hot showers, and sweat soaked sheets. For warm and dry bathrobes, and for this rager of a headache, sore throat, stuffy head and fever.

But seriously, thanks for the top pairs. It’s good to have some hypothetical folding money, after last week’s spendapalooza.

See you tomorrow morning.

Jerk.

Looks like it’s time to hydrate and write.

For lack of content

SO here’s the deal.

I’m not stuck, blocked,, stymied, bolloxed, or otherwise prevented from writing.

I just don’t feel like it.

In front of me right now is a page of notes regarding improvements to B.1, including certain bits that will make the piece much more marketable and increase both the relevance and appeal of the protagonist.

And somehow, when I sit down to put words on digital paper, I just don’t.

Those of you that know me are aware that I have battled/grapples, struggled with/JIHAD! sleeplessness/insomnia for most of my life as a part of my derangement. One of the first things I learned when I began addressing this disorder in college s if you are not sleeping, don’t try to sleep. Get up, walk around, do something else for a while, until you are tired. this works, but it makes me somewhat cranky and lethargic.

Applying those same lessons to the Work, When I don’t feel like writing, I don’t. I’ll make a note on something, read a book that might help my mindset, or otherwise go about my day in a not authorly manner.

The situation has progressed tot eh point where I don’t even want to write down character bios. I’m still composing them in my head, deepening and developing the stories until they take on their own life. I’m just not typing them.

My question to the assembled Internets , for which I require no answer, is this. If wordcount is not increased, Am I still writing?

While you ponder, allow me to engage in meme-ry, while I eat my delicious egg omelette. From the lovely and talented , comes the following:

Who was your FIRST prom date?

Never went. I was at work.

Do you still talk to your FIRST love?

No.

What was your FIRST alcoholic drink?

Jamesons’. It was my father’s brand. Also, I was 9. My dad wisely sat both myself and my s-brother down and poured us a very tall glass, so that we would understand that booze was for grown-ups.

It worked. Didn’t touch the stuff again for 20 years. I had some incidental Daiquiris during a softball game the next summer, because I did not know that it was alcohol. Beer is another story (14), but I didn’t much care for it until I went to college.

What was your FIRST job?

Contractor’s apprentice. 2 bucks an hour. I don’t count the paper route, because I wasn’t very good at it and it quickly became my mother’s second job instead.

What was your FIRST car?

I bouht a beer wagon from a deliver company in high school, but my official first car was a 1972 Buick Skylark. I loved that car.

Who was your FIRST grade teacher?

It was a nun. Like most of that period of my life, I have no solid memories of her.

Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane?

Las Vegas, as part of the great 70s parent shuffle.

Who was your FIRST best friend and are you still friends with them?

Hard to put a finger on this one. Looking back, I had a lot of acquaintances, rather than friends, until secondary school. Then I got a whole bunch of them at once, one of which I am indeed still in contact with.

Unless you count my Mom or my cousins.

What was your FIRST sport played?

Fantasy baseball. true story. then soccer, as most kids in the 70s did.

Where was your FIRST sleep over?

never officially had one, although I did stay overnight unannounced at a few friends houses in my teens, frightening my mother severely.

Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time?

My mom and Dad, second time around.

What was the FIRST thing you did this morning?

scratched.

What?

What was the FIRST concert you ever went to?

Chris Ledoux

FIRST tattoo or piercing?

I have neither.

FIRST foreign country you went to for vacation?

I have never really been on vacation in a foreign country, although I used to visit friends in Canada for days and weeks on end. Does that count? Conventions don’t, that much I am sure of.

What was your FIRST run in with the law?
No comment

When was your FIRST detention?

Teasing the disabled girl for no reason. I’m not really sure I even did it, but I was probably guilty of something. I left after one check in, and no-one bothered to follow up as to my continued attendance after wards.

What was the FIRST state you lived in?

California

Who was the FIRST person to break your heart?

Limited comment. “Break your heart” implies/requires that both parties once had the same level of commitment. Otherwise it’s just pining/madness.

So I’m going to say the woman in the red dress, and leave it at that.

Who was your FIRST roommate?

Vietnamese guy I was paired up with in college for one semester. Don’t remember his name. He moved out after a few months, with the comment “I found you a new roomate.” After that, the 90s got a little blurry.

Where did you go on your FIRST limo ride?

The airport.

Who will be the FIRST to repost this?

no idea.