I won!

Oh for the love of...

Don't you hate it when people with no sense of humor have to ruin things for everyone else? The Christmas train display in Lakeside was complete with blue tarps, debris, itty bitty fridges outside, and National Guard graffiti on the little houses. My stuff got junked in Hurricane Katrina too, but I think it's clever and cute. Apparently some lame people protested and it was removed.

The story even made CNN.

Last Day of NaNoWriMo

And I have 4,800 words left to write. I took several days off for Thanksgiving, and wasted time yesterday by making a lovely banner for my novel, because everyone else's on the NaNo forums looked so cool. So here I am racing to get this done by midnight, or hopefully, by the end of the afternoon. I have even deprived myself of the new Harry Potter movie till I finish. Wish me luck... here goes!

I managed to write my easy 1,667 words per day during the first two weeks. But in the end, didn't we all know it was going to get done Larrystyle, which means twitching with caffeine and with frequent breaks for trashy television and beers, utterly at the last minute? Yes. I think we did.

I'm a Purple Twi'lek! I'm a Purple Twi'lek!

Guilty as charged of being a Star Wars super-nerd. For my second KOTOR playthrough, I decided I didn't like any of the female heads, so I turned to the internet, found this mod, and needed to have it. My new character is a soldier named Xhena Mekkai. Duru Antilles was wickedly cool, and so cute, but was she a dark side purple twi'lek? I think not.

I have reached the height of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic coolness. (Unless that's an oxymoron.)

DCDS Excerpt #4

Because Still Life With Soup Can hates fascist pricks but loves novels, I decided to post another excerpt. I am currently at 33,200 words with eight days to go. The usual caveats about first draft, no spellcheck, etc. will apply.

***Click here for excerpt***

Edited to add that this morning Duru Antilles saved the galaxy! Go Duru! You were so adorable at your Republic awards ceremony, when you looked up at the sky and then the Star Wars theme started to play. (Imagine my horror when I started a new game, and Duru's head made a cameo appearance on the Jedi who gets killed on the Endar Spire in the first 5 minutes. Oh no they didn't!)

Garden Fascism Update!

Just now I received the following reply to my complaint, in which the Garden calls my description of events "erroneous" and "vehemently denies" my allegations (I, um, didn't really think I was making any, but OK).

Extremely defensive legal language? Check.
Form letter? Check.
Refusal to address my actual points? Check.

Geez. I didn't even get a pity apology at the bottom of the page.

My favorite part is that we were thrown out for "disruptive behavior." Literally, no joke, we were sitting calmly in our seats at the intermission talking to our friends, when two guards arrived out of nowhere and told us we needed to come with them NOW. I'm not denying I threw a fit in the concourse on the way out-- I sure as hell did, a loud one. But the kicking out had definitely already occurred at that point, so libertarian-protest-Sarah decided not to go quietly. She's obstinate like that. And I'm sure I was extremely disruptive standing against a wall by the men's restrooms the first time they tried to throw me out.


The verdict is in, folks: The customer is always wrong in Boston.

"They're Trying to Kill Us!"

So we have this theory that Boston is trying to kill us. I think it's a well-founded theory. First, there is the fact that no one in our lot can park, evidenced by the fact that Mike's (brand new) car has been hit four times in the last month. These people are too rude to even leave a "I'm Sorry" post-it. I mean, geez. We have assigned spots. WE KNOW IT WAS YOU. Second, let us not forget Saturday's incident at the Bruins game. Even leaving out the fact that we got kicked out for no reason, what the hell is up with the arena doors? It wasn't even like Mike hit it that hard; he just assumed it was one of those gravity controlled doors that closed slowly. Which it was not, and it closed on his face. I'm sorry, you just do not expect that in a public place. Third, for the second night in a row we couldn't sleep, and the following conversation took place at 5:30 AM:

M: Sweetie?
S: I'm awake.
M: Me too. I can't sleep on my right side because of the tetanus shot.
S: Aww. I can't sleep because I'm still composing nasty letters in my head. (Thumping and crashing sounds outside in the parking lot.)
M: They're... trying... to kill us.
S: Could the trash BE any louder?
M: Do you think it could take less than half an hour? What the hell are they doing out there?
S: Farting around.
M: You think? You think they're just standing out there farting?
S: (Rolls around in hysterics.) Sorry, it's just the mental image, the trash men stalking around our lot in parkas, farting. It's not that funny. Wow, probably 'cause it's 5:30 AM. I think they're trying to kill us.

Memo to Boston: We're onto you now.

Fuck Boston. Fuck the Bruins.

Excuse the language. I can't find the will to write about it again, so I will just link the first draft of the nasty letter I spent all morning composing. I have to go make lunch for my boyfriend who has four stitches in his face. I have never been dragged kicking and screaming through a concourse before. It was actually pretty fun. And Mike's blood is all over their floor. Oh, they'll remember us.

We hate Boston. Here is why.

And, go Sabres.

Standing at the Top of the Mountain

Halfway through the month, and I've written 25,057 words. It's strangely exhilarating, hitting the halfway point. This is the top of the mountain. It's all downhill from here. Oh, novel. I despair of you. I would be rid of you, frivolous novel. But we're nicely on our way now, aren't we?

The Devil Made Me Do It

I went shopping for boots today at Lord & Taylor. I was looking for a nice dark brown (I wear brown more than black) heeled boot, maybe a buckle, toes not too chunky and not too pointy. There was a table of boots on sale. And then, behind it, I saw it..... THE shoe.

I had to have it.

It was gold, it was velvet, it was Victorian-looking. It was the kind of shoe you buy a whole new outfit to go with. It was not the kind of shoe you can talk yourself out of. It belonged on my foot. Since staring at it in my apartment (on my foot-- I bought the boots too, I'm not that impractical) is giving me pleasure, I didn't want to deprive everyone else. I. LOVE. THIS. SHOE. And it is mine. All mine.

At Long Last, The Feast Is Here!

OK, all that stuff I mentioned below? I didn't do ANY of it today. Zero. Nothing. I looked up at 5:00 and was like, "Wha-huh? What the hell happened?" Because at 11:45 this morning the buzzer rang. I ran downstairs and there was a man holding a manilla package that could only be... The Feast! Yes! So I came back upstairs and put it on the table, thinking, "Well, since I started NaNo I haven't actually thought about it in weeks." Read the prologue. Not too interesting. Got up, put on makeup and shoes, gathered my wallet and purse to go run errands. Then thought, OK, I'll just browse through one chapter.

Right.

In Which Sarah Writes a Novel and Buys Shoes

That is exactly what I plan to do today. Write a novel (not the whole thing, perhaps a good 2,000 words of it) and buy shoes. Shoes are becoming a problem. I have 3 pairs of donated sneakers, several pairs of my own heels that I brought from New Orleans (the lack of coverage on which makes my feet a bit chilly now that it is 45 degrees), and a pair of clunky high-heeled loafers I bought in 1999. What I really need is a nice slick pair of boots. With heels. Similar to the two pairs that met their unfortunate death by mold in September... only nicer. With this goal in mind, I am taking my $100 Lord and Taylor gift certificate downtown on the T and searching for boots. Hopefully this afternoon. But I may get distracted.

Writing is going well. I'm on pace. Some days I get behind, but I've been good about forcing myself to catch up. Yesterday I wrote in Starbucks for three hours. My word processor tells me I am 31% done. And neither my villain nor my spaceport have names. (I keep putting a _____ in until I can think of something good. Keep being bothered by the fact that I think I have this written down in a sheaf of papers from high school under the bed at home. What if I make up a new name and the one from high school is better? I couldn't do that!)

I had a minor monetary freakout last night at 1 AM, but I'm over it. Tuition + lack of car = $0 for Sarah. But I'm sure it will all work out.

And my copy of A Feast For Crows has shipped! According to USPS tracking, the Feast was in Springfield, MA yesterday... will it be here today? I wonder...

Oy...Can I Watch TV Now?

Still on pace to finish my novel by November 30th. But now, I present an Action-Packed Excerpt! This is what I wrote today. (Please excuse any errors, since I am writing in the form of .txt files and have no spell/grammar check. But don't let that dissuade you from reading; not to brag, but my spelling and grammar are generally impeccable.)

*** Click here for excerpt ***

Word Count: 5005

After three days of NaNoWriMo, I am exactly on target with where my word count needs to be. I think I like where the story is going. I'm adapting the short story I posted partially on here last month. It's interesting to see what the characters do. Normally I'm pretty skeptical about writers who say that. I tend to roll my eyes when someone says something like, "My characters aren't doing what I want! Oh no!" Because, hello, you wrote them. So, yes, you can force them to do exactly what you want.

But I'm finding that mine are shifting slightly in the writing, and I do like what's come up. I think I've got enough room in my plot to let them change around a bit. If I'm stuck, I just put two characters on a dark street, walking on their way to somewhere, and write dialogue. If you write fast enough, and don't bother with actions or modifiers for now, a lot of really spontaneous stuff will come out, similar to a real conversation.

However, tomorrow I have to write a real paper for grad school. Yawn!

Writing and Coffee! Coffee and Writing!

National Novel Writing Month has officially begun! I ended up writing 250 words at midnight, then falling asleep. But I'm ready to start working now. I've got laptop, coffee, and music. I've been practicing a writing schedule during the month of October (which dissolved upon the advent of The Game, oops), so it shouldn't be too hard. Perhaps if I am really good, I will be able to avoid the lure of The Game. I did yesterday. There's hope. Off to write today's 1,500 words now! (But first, figure out how to put a counter on my blog because it's more fun to fiddle with things like that than to actually write... or at least more distracting.)