Anybody in Chicagoland looking for a really good Admin/Executive Assistant/Contract Writer/Project Coordinator?
Honestly, I can do just about anything for 40-50K a year.
I'm not really picky.
Just don't send me to Indianapolis.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Home Again, Home Again Jiggety Jig
tDW
First major pass of edits are done for The Dragon's Wall.
The book is going to fucking rock.
Printing it out tonight or tomorrow and doing line edits on the whole shebang. Inputting line edits, then it goes to the next round of readers for feedback.
At least this book will go out on time.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Ode to My Hotel Room In Indianapolis
There is totally someone vomiting in the hall right now.
I'm going to bed.
Things To Do In Indy When You're Dead
My boss wants me to maintain my purgatory here in Indy every week, preferably 3-4 days a week. I tried to get him to compromise at 2, but it turns out our client just canned the person who does the equivalent of my job for them, and now I need to help out until everybody's happy.
Thing is - I hate it here. Really hate it. I have no car, and there isn't anywhere to go anyway. I walked to a little Mexican place for dinner, and picked up some things at the grocery store on the way back. It's a nice walk to get the blood flowing, but there are no sidewalks, so I have to walk in the street.
I suppose the good news is: all there is to do here is write and read. And swim in the pool.
I was just starting to get over all of my stress, so adding this to the mix really wasn't a great idea. I stepped onto the puddle jumper plane and had to fight down the urge to scramble back off the plane and run screaming through the terminal. Stress exacerbates my claustrophobia, but even knowing that, I startle myself when I feel it.
I've been crying a lot more over odd little things, too. I kept tearing up while watchingt V for Vendetta, of all things.
I'm exhausted.
"All happiness depends on courage and work," Balzac once said. "I have had many periods of wretchedness, but with energy and above all with illusions, I pulled through them all."
Until he died at 50. I'd like to keep trucking a little longer than that.
Yoga: Take 2
The instructor for my Friday yoga class was a woman who trained in India, the sort who could turn herself into a pretzel at will.
“And this is a preparatory exercise so that eventually you’ll be able to do this!” and then she proceeded to contort herself in a Cirque de Soleil fashion.
I’m enjoying these classes at the end of the day. They really relax me and help me unwind. The first one kicked my ass and I was sore for three days. The second one wasn’t nearly as bad, physically. We spent a lot of time talking about the forms and the philosophy behind the forms, which meant less intensity, but more time for thinking about what we were doing.
The end is always the best part, sitting in the dark, closing your eyes, letting everything fall away.
I have been carrying so much.
V For Vendetta
“People shouldn’t fear their governments. Governments should fear their people.”
“Don’t give an inch.”
“When you no longer fear, you are free.”
Jenn and I went out and saw V for Vendetta on Saturday – fantastic show, highly recommended.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Friday, March 24, 2006
In Which the Protagonist Tries to Resurrect A Chapter
Why does it not surprise me that I'm bad at writing character relationships that are supposed to be romantic?
Gee, I wonder.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
What's Up With My Life
When plan A falls apart, plans B & C kick in.
The plan right now is to apply for the writing gig at the gaming company in Edmonton. If that doesn't pan out, I'm joining the Peace Corps.
If that doesn't work out, well, there's a reason I'm starting a savings account (finally). It'll be picking up and finding another city, likely Seattle, or seeing where Jenn is headed. If she gets a job somewhere that isn't, like, South Dakota, we'll see if we can room up again.
Here's to hoping for dialogue-writing in Edmonton.
I need a smaller city.
On Writing
When I was fourteen, I bought myself a cheap silver ring with a multi-colored stone and put it on the ring finger of my left hand and decided I'd be married to my writing.
Boys weren't interested in me for anything beyond friendship - never had been - and I wanted to make a real, passionate commitment to something in my life. I'd been writing for two years with the intent of being a writer, and everything I'd read about the matter said that being a writer was Hard Work, and I could expect decades of rejection, but if I was persistent, it might pay off in some way.
At sixteen, I gave that ring over to my high school boyfriend and he wore it around his neck on a black cord. He wanted a "real" commitment from me. That was the best one I could think of.
By eighteen, I wasn't writing anymore, was on the verge of commiting suicide, and was stuck in an increasingly stifling relationship. He kept trying to give me other rings - diamonds and otherwise - but I rejected all of them. I didn't want to marry him. I was already taken.
And now that I'm thinking of dating again, I realize I need to be wholly honest with my partner and have them really get it - the writing comes first.
A part of me wishes it didn't. It would be fun for a guy to be with some sort of self-sacrificing maiden from some fairytale, I guess, but I'm not.
It's not that I don't feel things. I fall in love very easily. I love people. And when I love them, I tend to love them forever, no matter what kind of psycho they turn out to be. Because there's something lovable about almost everybody.
But I'm very clear this time around. More even than I was after my high school boyfriend.
I have something I will lose myself in far more often than I'll lose myself in a lover's eyes. I have something I'll think about far longer than a lover's embrace. I have whole worlds in my head, an army of people, and a far future goal about where this writing is going to take me and what it will do for me.
And I will give up everything for that, because without it, I go a little nuts.
Without it, I'm not me.
Wow, That Sufficiently Pissed Me Off!
And now I'm about the bang the shit out of the last chapters of the rewrite.
It's such a great way to channel all that energy...
Support the SD Oglala Sioux Planned Parenthood
Here's all the contact info on where to send your cash, chiklits:
Oglala Sioux Tribe
ATTN: President Fire Thunder
P. O. Box 2070
Pine Ridge, SD 57770
OR: and this may be preferred, due to mail volume:
ATTN: PRESIDENT FIRE THUNDER
PO BOX 990
Martin, SD 57751
Enclose a letter voicing your support and explaining the purpose of the donation. Bear in mind, the Pine Ridge Res is not exactly dripping with disposeable income, so do consider donating funds directly to the tribe as well as specifically for this effort.
ETA: Make checks out to OST Planned Parenthood Cecelia Fire Thunder. This will ensure that the funds get routed properly.
For email contact, you can contact the president at:
firethunder_president AT NOSPAM yahoo DOT com
cc:vbush AT NOSPAM oglala DOT org
Link
Yes!!!
Strange Horizons just accepted my story, "The Women of Our Occupation."
I am so jazzed.
Also, their rates have gone up. Fucking sweet!!!
Gee, someday I may be a real writer....
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Send NARAL Some Money
Me & Jenn did, and we're poor and have no money. But hey, that's $20 more to stuff down some asshole's throat.
If SD pisses you off, why not send some money to somebody worthwhile? Even $5. It'll make you feel better. That, or you could send hangers to the governor of SD. I'm getting increasingly pissed off, and that'll be my next act of anger.
Cause it's abortion today, and birth control tomorrow, and isn't that exciting!
IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE IN ABORTION, DON'T HAVE ONE. Don't try telling me what my "empty vessel" body's good for. That's my decision.
And whoever these women are who believe that they're "aborting babies" by taking the pill because they're confused about what the pill does (makes your body think you're pregnant, so you don't ovulate), and what abortion is ("abortion" doesn't happen until *after* a *fertilized egg* *attaches itself to the uterus* and is *removed from the uterus after having been attached*) - DON'T TAKE THE PILL. IF YOU THINK YOU ARE KILLING "BABIES" THEN DON'T USE BIRTH CONTROL OR DON'T HAVE SEX.
Don't tell me what to do with my own girl parts, thanks. That's my decision.
You know, Iran tried this "ban contraception" thing and doubled their population in 10 years. They had to retract that particular little law because they couldn't support the excess population - too many abandoned babies, too many poor men and women who needed help from the state to raise their children, huge drain on social services.
But nobody reads history anymore.
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