blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
Start: 11,781
Day 4: 16,067
Day 5: 17,608, total of 1541 words but I went to bed before blogging about it.
Day 6 so far: 0 and likely to stay at that.

* Stereo cats snuggling against me as I write.
* Leftover Maltesers from Halloween: the promised mass of local zombies was two kids and a dog. I have reaped the benefits of my own generosity.

* Work, and the need to sleep if I am to be the least bit effective at work. Having come up with one plan to save lots of money, I've been asked to come up with another. The second one involves far more compromises, so I am doing a mock-up mag to show why it might save cash, but it will look like poo. At the same time as doing an actual mag that we will publish so real people can read it.
* My arse. I have a lot of small issues with muscle tightness around my hips, mostly from having my pelvis bashed by the bonnet of a two-tonne taxi back in the 90s and having it never go back to exactly its former position. Usually this is not a major problem.

This week, in addition to giving everything a bit of a bash when I came off my bike last Friday, and having Mr B decide that we are now on a regular running programme and me having to actually run the whole time we are out running rather than being a semi-jogging dog fancier, they have blocked off my favourite back-roads route on the first part of my ride to work. Instead of a nice easy uphill, downhill, up, down, up, down, up bit with no traffic, I have a choice of two steepish hills, one leading to a horrible main road, one leading to a good cycling street. Obviously I choose the latter, but they are also doing roadwork on that road, which means that they have taken a narrow two-way single lane street and made it into an alternating one-way system controlled by lollipop people.

So to cycle up this, you do the 300m of mixed path and street from my house to the train station, which is all quite fine, then get to the lollipop person just in time to hit the start of a STOP. You wait there for two minutes while the cars come the other way, chatting with the nice lollipop person (mostly young Irish girls or lads from the country), say thanks when they change over, cognizant of the fact there are now six cars behind you, none of whom will wish to GO SLOW as the lollipop sign demands, fang it up a hill in a medium gear for maximum speed on an uphill start, then hit the roundabout at which you technically have right of way but at which you know that half the muppets coming straight down from Newtown will just fang through, still with six cars behind you, all wanting to overtake you on the roundabout, and only being restrained from doing so by the fact you are still moving at quite a lot of speed despite this all being in the first 900m from home before your middle-aged lady muscles have really warmed up at all.

As a result, I have come in from tonight's run with the muscles going down the outside of my right hip and arse (gluteus minimus and quadratus femoris? I used to know all this crap back when I was a proper athlete!) aching like … I would say the buggery, but I feel certain that in a responsible adult that would  involve lubricant and consent. Aching like the muscles of an old lady who is not half as fit as she once was. So I am going to have a bath and go to bed! I will write extra words on the weekend, which looks as though it will be wet, wet, wet, and thus well suited to sitting inside with a laptop :-)
blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
Start words: 11,781
End of Day 3 words: 14, 689
End of Day 4 words: 16, 067
Today's total: 1378

* Cookie the cat with her diligent sitting beside me in case of cat rubbing needs.
* Gave names to a number of dead characters who had previously not had personalities.
* New keyboard for writing on laptop with less stress.

* Lost all my maps of the region for calculating in-story distances and hiding places.
* Fell asleep for three hours of useful writing time.
* Stayed up too late last night and now again tonight. Tomorrow will be 2000 words and bed before midnight! Well, probably not, but it would be a good idea.
blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
Starting words: 11,781
Day two: 13, 651
Day three: 14, 689, total of 1038 and I only deleted a couple of hundred, which were always rubbish!

* Day three was a Sunday, which meant no claims on my time!

* Are you mad? It was Sunday! There was cleaning, gardening, eating out, epic cat patting … And it was nearly 35°C, which was disgusting. Luckily, a front rolled in during the evening.
* Convinced Mr B he should go running. Which meant I had to go running. And keep running, rather than my standard run, walk, pat dog, chat about dog, sniff flower, run, walk … Three times a week is the plan. I am coming around to the Loki theory.
* Massive headache from the weather, which meant no post last night and I have just woken from a nap tonight and need to get in proper words before getting some proper sleep. DOOMED!

Nanoo Nanoo

Nov. 3rd, 2013 02:13 am
blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
Start Point: 11,781
Yesterday: 13,012
Today: 13,651
Today's total: 639, plus 1482 deleted words. So sort of 2121, except that I nearly chucked as many already-written bits as I added new. Oh dear.

Portuguese custard tarts from the school fete

Writing 900 words on a garden story. Which don't count for this.

Plus, OW OW OW OW OW MY SHOULDERS! Standard Day After Accident ache from wreching them trying to keep the bike up. Idiotically went to a massage therapist who was not the one I usually see, now I have yet more bruises. AND he spent time telling me how much he loved Atlas Shrugged. Lying there, face down in only my undies, trying not to yelp as he pressed hard on all the bruises I already had in a bid to ease up on my tension (I am only held together by tension!) and trying to be polite as he spoke of Ayn Rand's genius, I wondered if perhaps I was wrong and there is a god. And that god is Loki.

Sample of the conversation: 'If you bruise easily, it's all coming from your spleen. Chinese medicine states that very clearly.' 'Don't you think it could possibly the fact that I am really quite pale and so any bruises just show up very well?' 'Possibly. But the pain in your foot is coming from your gallbladder.' 'Or the fact I shattered that foot back in the late 90s …'

I am booked to see my normal massage person next week. Her loopiest conversation is 'Of course we get on, you're an Aquarius!' I can live with that. And she thinks Ayn Rand is an amoral bore, too.
blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
Nano Day 1
Start point: 11, 781
End point: 13,012
Today's total: 1231 (closer to 2000 as I deleted at least 800 words from my starting point)

Writing helps:
* Fear of raitala
* Encouragement of flistees and fellow nanoers
* Of Monsters and Men CD

Writing hindrances:
* Mangled elbow
* Demanding cats
* Inability to stop editing as I go

Things learned:
* Start writing earlier so you can be in bed by midnight!

Good luck to everyone embarked on this madness. YOU CAN DO IT!
blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
Useful* word count before beginning: 11, 781
After a quick midnight type and before an evening's work: 12,197 (and about 200 more that were deleted and rewritten)

Complicating factors for the evening's work: evil bicycle toe strap caught my foot on my pedal when I was putting my foot down coming to a stop at a roundabout and I came off. I currently possess the mother of all elbow bruises! But I did keep everything tucked in neatly so it's minimal damage. Save to my ego.

On the upside, three fellow cyclists and some nice workers from the building site on the corner all leapt to help. No need for help, mostly just embarrassed! Off to he bike shop tomorrow for new toe straps, or maybe some clips. Or maybe I should just bite the bullet and go back to cleats and keep a pair of comfy shoes at work … Mildly tempted to buy some mountain biking body armour for my right elbow, which has been taking the brunt of things this year. I had even told myself on the ride in that it was time to replace that toe strap, due to developing evil. One day I will learn to listen to myself in a timely fashion!

* Consecutive stuff, not counting sketched out bits and fragments of later scenes that may or may not survive to the end.


blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)

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