A combination of things slowed me down this week: invoices to submit to our insurer, Trixie having a recheck exam, having the cleaners in. That means spending two to three hours shut in with the cats and Trixie to ensure the cats don’t react to strangers in the house by bolting out. It’s a possibility, particularly with Snowdrop, as he’s still skittish after 18 months as an indoor cat.
I’m also having some odd twinges in one knee. Nothing serious but I set up a PT appointment for next week. Oh, and one problem that eats away at my time — a few minutes here, a few minutes there — is that Plushie is refusing to eat his meds on the food or treats we normally give him. We have a limited range of options as eating anything with fat would trigger his pancreatitis and related diarrheal problems. It took twice as long as last week to get the drugs into him. TYG and I are both quoting that line from A Christmas Story, “Every family has a child who won’t eat.”
I got some advance work done on my two Local Reporter articles for next week. Beyond that, I only wrote 6,500 words on the redraft of Let No Man Put Asunder. That’s primarily because I hit a tough point: the chapters I worked on this week were way too talky and slow in the previous draft. I knew that; I knew what would happen once the action kicks in; I did not know what should replace the slow, talky bits. That led to a couple of hours of dithering and not writing and only sort-of thinking about writing.
Eventually I reminded myself that I had to write something so I might as well bite the bullet; if it didn’t work, I’d rewrite. I accelerated the Community of All’s attack on the city of Bluestone, cutting out a lot of the talk. I used a teleportation spell to throw Paul and Mandy into the middle of the trouble without any “what should we do?” discussion. Coupled with some other changes, I think it works much better.
That was pretty much it. I can’t tell you how good it feels to write fiction and know I’ve made at least one small step toward finishing this draft. Hopefully more steps on more fiction next week.
Oh, and New Myths is holding my story “Honey on the Grave” as a contender for one of next year’s issues. Not an acceptance but the first non-rejection I’ve had in a while.
On that note, have a great weekend.
