Blog

Self-Confidence: Reflections on Maggie Stiefvater’s Post

It’s been a busy week.

No kidding, right? You caught my work rant. You know.

What this means, however, is that I got just a tad behind in my internet life. I’m working on the big catchup right now while waiting for the man to come out of surgery.

Here’s something that you should be aware of if you are not: Maggie Stievater’s post on self-confidence.. Hmmm, I see from the 109 comments currently that you may already be aware.

What I like about reading Maggie’s journal is her positive, upbeat optimistic nature. There are several things in her post that I could relate to, and rather than write a treatise in her comments, it’s made me think a little bit more.

I am a good writer. If I make that statement without qualification, you could assume my ego is huge, but if I qualify it, you might decide I am merely self-confident.

Continue reading “Self-Confidence: Reflections on Maggie Stiefvater’s Post”

In the Waiting Room

My plea for time aid appears to have worked. No sooner did I write yesterday’s memo, than an hour of time became available in my day, combined with the hiring of a teacher I needed for Monday. Thank you, oh great and anonymous donor!

Right now, Bryon is having the toe joint on his right foot literally cut down to size. He has a choice (read–once they see what it looks like, they’ll choose) of cleaning or fusing. Cleaning is our best case scenario, but both docs who’ve looked at the x-ray film keep saying he’s going to get it fused.

Um. I have met my weekly goal of completing chapter 2 on the troll story. Currently I’m at about 33 pages, give or take, and this interesting rewrite word count statistic…

7777 / 45000 words. 17% done!

More relevant?

10 / 54 words. 19% done!

Part one is chugging along.

In other news, I’m enjoying Vernor Vinge’s Deepness in the Sky. Who’d have thunk it?

Catherine

Time Aid

This is in no way meant to make fun of those of you with a real and substantial need for money. And while this post is only semi-serious, there is a real point buried in here somewhere. About writing. Of course, it sounds (and is!) a work rant at the same time, so this might not be an entry you want to explore.

It does not diminish my request for you to send me your spare time.

Continue reading “Time Aid”

Adolescent Trolls and UF Novels

Well, who’s to say last night wasn’t fated. This part of the long scene I just wrote came out pretty well, and I doubt I would have written it if I’d tried it last night.

***

“What’d you want to go to Chicago for?” said David. “The big city is a really bad place for us.”

“Why?”

“We’re trolls, right? We’re linked to nature. Being made of rock and ice and stuff like that, we are nature. Cities aren’t natural.”

“Sure they are,” said Hild.

“And we’re magic,” continued David. “Cities have lots of iron. Doesn’t iron block out magic?”

“You don’t know anything,” said Hild.

“It’s those books,” said Grant.

“What books?”

Grant smiled indulgently, which he knew Hild hated. “She reads all these books about tough faeries in the city.”

“As if!” snorted David.

Grant made a helpless gesture. “Leather coat wearing Irish pretty faeries who seduce mortal women and bring them into worlds of dangerous magic.”

“Shut up,” said Hild, a note of warning in her voice.

David laughed. “Oh yeah. ‘Don’t eat the food in my land, Mortal Spitfire, or you will be doomed to stay, unless you kick the crap out of the bad guy faeries.’”

“You guys don’t know anything,” said Hild.

“I know enough. Trolls not good enough for you, Hildi? Want to take one of the elves to the prom?” David smile crooked into smarmy.

Hild slugged him in the arm.

Grant sighed. “Hild has just proven to you that she can take any troll, and that you won’t be her prom date.”

“Damn straight,” said Hild.

***

Happy Wednesday!

Catherine

Threadbare and Worn Through

You win this round, work day. You whittled me down with removing my husband, letting me know a friend’s cat had died, and making me dance to a lot of last minute music, but when you utterly collapsed at the end of the day, hitting me with three things at once, and making me take work home, well, my stuffing came out.

It was my plan to have two glorious days to myself this week. Now each day features a stop at Kirkwood, and I count myself lucky that I don’t have to spend the entire day there in both cases.

See? You too can be a supervisor, and find out the real meaning of the buck stops here.

Well. When I’m not at work tomorrow, I’ll be writing. Constant like. I’ll also be meeting with an artist buddy to see about commissioning some freebies to give kids when I do public readings and appearances with Hulk Hercules.

***

So the post isn’t a total fist shaking against tiredness, you might find the 2010 Mindbridge Book group list of interest. I’ve also posted the remainder of this year for kicks. And we had one spare choice, so we have one month of 2011. Anathem? Better start reading now!

One tired sundae with an extra ladle of exhausted sauce!

Catherine

Continue reading “Threadbare and Worn Through”

Thoughts of a Physical Nature

Jim Hines wrote a very interesting post on body image last week, which you can locate under this link. I have very little to add, because I think a whole bunch of angles on the subject have been discussed over at Jim’s place. Of course, leave it to me to find a tangent in here somewhere.

This week, I am a bachelorette for three days, while my husband runs off to blow things up camp a science teacher workshop. I’m usually the one that runs away from home on him. I expect the cats and I to have an off kilter week. Further twilight zone experiences will result for the next couple of weeks, because Bryon has foot surgery on Friday, and then he’s laid up for a bit.

One of the things this means is that I’ll be going to the gym alone pretty much for the foreseeable future.

Jim’s post got me thinking about the concept of healthy. Many people on the post agreed that regardless of your BMI, what’s important is healthy. I did some serious thinking about my physical condition. Am I healthy?

Well, no. I’m not. In April, a mad dash through the Minneapolis airport left me sounding like an emphysema victim. I can’t lift much with my arms. I can’t do many push ups (any?).

I don’t eat right all the time. Much of the time, yes, but ask me about ice cream and the Amana colonies in spontaneous color this weekend.

Being healthy is harder when you are sedentary. As a writer, I am generally not keyboarding and treadmilling at the same time. As an ELA coordinator, I sit at my desk, a lot more than if I were just teaching.

Teaching isn’t exactly aerobic. Yes, the soul search revealed two things. I need to move more, and I need to eat better.

It’s not because I want to be thin. It’s because I want to be able to dash across the Minneapolis airport. It’s because strong bones and muscles are much less likely to lose mass in my old age. It’s because I want to have more energy and pep.

And I want to eat better for many of the same reasons. As much as I love ice cream, brownies, and chocolate, these things are meant to be eaten in moderation, if not sparingly. Water and vegetables, lean protein, the things that make us run better. You know, nutrition?

How do you eat? How do you work out? How do you weight train? I guess I have to put my amazing grad school/author research skills to work for my body, because another benefit of healthy is longevity.

I’ll let you know how this all works out in regard to weight. I suspect I know the answer, but since my emphasis will be on eating well, and not on portion control, I’m curious.

In the spirit of my new philosophy, I ran for the first time today. For leisure. Since 1987. Yup, still Wheezy.

Do you all move? How do you get your heart rate up? Do you lift? They say women often make the mistake of not lifting. And how do you sneak in vegetables and fruit?

We now return you to your regular writing blog. I think I do need that treadmill for my computer…

Catherine

Snip: Rural Troll Goodness

Grant headed down a sloping hill, his wings helping with balance, over the metal and wooden bridge that crossed the creek, and further down into the timber. General Hjalmar meticulously placed on large foot in front of the other as he trod down. Hjalmar was a broad, rocky troll, the color of tan sandstone.

Grant stretched his wings. He soared past Hjalmar, half rolling, half running down the grade. Just as he was about to hit the bottom, his wings sharped upwards, and he skimmed over the rooty surface. He dodged in the nick of time before he hit a tree and he righted himself, hovering above the ground.

“Humph,” said Hjalmar, although Grant could hear the approval in his rusty voice. “Just like your father!”
It was the highest compliment that the general could have given him. “Dad wouldn’t have hit the tree,” Grant said modestly.

“You didn’t hit the tree,” reminded Hjalmar, trudging forward. “You almost hit the tree. I wish I had wings. You and your dad have an easy time getting around these hills.” He sighed as he thought about navigating the drop off in front of him. “Feel free to fly ahead.”

“I could carry you,” Grant said.

“No,” said Hjalmar. “I don’t think both you and David could carry me. Scoot. You don’t want to be late.”

***

Just about half a scene today, so no need to up the scene count.

Catherine

Writers Work Weekends

I have the scenes arranged for chapters 2 and 3 now. Two more scenes are polished, and we’re working in the quiet teen troll angst. Need to get the teen trolls talking just a bit more with each other, but one case of angst at a time.

Manuel is introduced very shortly soon, so I’ll have to learn a little appropriate Spanish.

The scenes have shrunk, as I’ve combined a couple of them.

6 / 54 words. 11% done!