2005-03-04 - 6:13 p.m.
I have *got* to learn HTML.
There's so much I'd like to be able to do with my blogs, and really, if I'm going to be a published writer (and I AM, dammit, I AM), having a website/blog would be a smart (and potentially fun) thing to do. I still can't get over the fact that I get email from Jim Butcher; I mean, okay, YES, there is a person behind every published book, but still...
It's the difference between watching the library being built and being in some finished structure. I'm much more inclined to trust something built by strangers anonymously than some building that I WATCHED being constructed by guys that I know.
So anyway. Must learn new skill.
Yeah; in my copious spare time.
I was losing my place in Storm Moon today and I went into the outline to look at WTF I'm supposed to be doing. MAN. Outline wise, there's only a page left. One short tiny page. I'm so frakking CLOSE!
But how long have I been saying that? Hell, I almost finished Raine, only to scrap the whole thing (a decision I still stand behind; it was puerile crap; it will be better the second time around). But I wasn't as close as this.
This has been a labor of love and effort as much as any human child would be; agonizing at times with a pain I didn't always think I could survive. The desire to finish it has become a need, and while I'm glad to find that I do actually have some niggling scrap of ambition somewhere in these large bones, the need is definitely in the driver's seat.
If I'm not at the computer, I don't know where to go any more. Uneasy on the couch, uncomfortable and restless in the bed; half the time if I *must* leave the keyboard, I sit in the armchair, closest to my new master the Silicate Lord and I'm *still* running back at every commercial break to try and squeeze out one more coherent, acceptable sentence. Prolly the same sentence that I'm going to delete at work tomorrow and then rewrite another fourteen times before I find something that approximates the ghosts in residence in my head.
I go to bed thinking about them and I will wake up the next morning thinking about them. And the picture is SO gorram clear...but the words are slow in coming and are so seldom right. So seldom enough. I know where I need to go; I just gotta get there.
Song: Club Foot by Kasabian
Book: Ill Wind - Rachel Caine & the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle - Haruki Murakami
