Words and Coffee

I feel like Rip Van Winkle, except rather than sleeping, I’ve been working. What can you do? For the time being, I’m going to be in blog stasis, with posts being oh-so-occasional. I’ll do my best to keep my current reading project updated.

Oh, and if any news breaks on the road to publication.

There’s a strange irony that I am doing this as a result of my job, which involves a fair amount of blogging. Ah well.

I am probably most active on Facebook if you care to keep tabs.

Happy new year!

I swear it was just the end of July yesterday. Apparently I was wrong and no one’s been at the helm of the good ship Words & Coffee. All kinds of craziness has descended upon my life over the last four or five weeks, some good, some not so good.

My father had his second heart attack in three months. He’s doing alright, hanging in there, but I know it can’t be easy for him. I know how much it affects me so I can only imagine the thoughts running through his mind.

I volunteered to be Center Director here. We’ve been working like crazy on several fronts to get the school ready for today, the first day.

I started working full time here. The pace is far from languid, but fun and challenging.

We lost our sweet friend of 14 years, Greta, one of the most kindhearted dogs I’ve ever known.  We were with her, her death was fairly quick and there were no decisions to make. Still, it was heartbreaking.

We sure miss her fluff.

Through it all, I’ve been polishing my latest draft to get it ready for querying. I’ve been riding the trails here regularly, wrecking a little bit less and having tons of fun. Making time for all the people who are important to me has been a challenge, but I keep at it. Making space for down time has been about damn near impossible. And so it goes.

Posts here may be even more infrequent, but I’ll still be around. I always wondered how people managed to write and hold down a full-time job and juggle the responsibilities of parenting and all that goes with it.

Now I know.

Hope you didn’t come here to find out where that line is. I suspect it’s different for different writers.

I finished the fourth draft of my novel a few weeks ago and have jumped into what I hope are final edits (at least until someone tells me otherwise). I am no stranger to revision and trying to make my work the best it can be, so I’m always on the lookout for ways to make it better.

What I worry about is that I will delve deeper into things as I look for spelling, punctuation and clarity errors. It seems like things can always be improved and I worry about slipping into full revision mode.

I suppose when it comes down to it, there are worse things that can happen, but there’s that line between improving and ruining that’s hard to define. It’s like over-mixing your pancake batter and getting rubbery disks, that, while edible, are hardly memorable.

Here’s a pretty cool take on How to Stop Making Yourself Crazy with Self-Editing from Coppyblogger.

Once the brain makes enough mistakes — and corrects them — it now has a database of information that it can call upon at any time. Your brain has now reached its level of competency in that field, be it walking, talking or writing.

Makes sense.

And there you have it. Writers write and all that. Now, off to make more mistakes.

Sometimes a little outside vector is all it takes to set you free.

Much Better Now from Salon Alpin on Vimeo.

I like golf. There’s something about when you catch a shot clean, effortlessly and watch it sail straight and true. You can have countless marginal-to-awful shots (Trust me, I know this. Don’t ask how, just know that I do.), but all it takes is one good one to keep you coming back for more.

I find the same to be true for reading, though it pertains to a particularly well-turned phrase rather than a well-struck ball. But like the well-struck ball, the well-turned phrase seems effortless, beautiful and true.

I came across this one in M. John Harrison’s second book in the Viriconium series, The Pastel City (See right sidebar if you want to check it out):

Viriconium, sump of time and alchemical child, sacrificer of children and comforter of ghosts–who can but shiver and forgive in the damp theatrical airs of dawn?

Got any faves from stuff you’ve read or are currently reading?