The Mimosa Effect 2

Final word count for November: 51,093

Speaking of not slacking off…

It happened in the middle of this headlong rush of insanity commonly known as NaNoWriMo, so I didn’t really think much of it at the time, but I appear to have reached – and surpassed – my writing goal for the year.  Word-count wise, that is.  I was aiming for 200,000 words (roughly 400 ss pages, or thereabouts), and lo and behold, I seem to have zipped on by it without really thinking.  And I’m still on track to reach 50k for November, despite a few less than productive days.

I have a feeling December will see a lot of tying up of loose ends, followed by several months of intensive editing.  I had originally dreaded the idea of editing a novel (never mind three of them), but I’ve discovered that it’s actually a rather enjoyable experience.  Well, the first part anyhow.  Sitting down with a hard copy of the manuscript, a sharpened red pencil and a big cup of tea, then spending the next couple of hours reading and jotting down notes is, all told, a pretty relaxing way to spend an afternoon.  The second part, editing the novel proper on the computer and forcing the ragged, messy, awkward bits into some semblance of order, and then hopefully from that into a thing of brilliant beauty – that part, I think, will be a lot more like work.  Oddly enough, though, I’m still kind of looking forward to it, because it means a finished book (or two, or three) at the end of it all.  And that, I have to say, will be a pretty darned cool thing.

Lest I forget
to drop pennies on your eyes
smooth the way before the promenade
of elven kings and faery wings
and if I should lose
my fractured memories of you
sitting on lily pads wide as sofas
fine china teacups in your hands
will you laugh for me
at the errant ways of the world
will you pull down boughs
snap twigs, stack stones
will you leave for me a pathway
back to the centre of your heart
if I should lose my way
in the darkness of time
of hours not well spent,
but borrowed only
and will you carve for me
a valentine, deep into the bark
and flesh and bones of the earth
(thee plus me, with an arrow shot through)
so I might find my way back
to myself, when even names
and sighs and honeyed lips
have turned to emptiness and dust?

- T.H. (green book, Sep. 23 ‘08)

An old one this week; seemed appropriate for today.

 

Woo-hoo!

 

My faith in humanity has been restored somewhat – for at least the next few hours, at any rate.

A precedent has been set, folks.  And you can’t take that back. No matter what happens next.