Gray is the Day, the Last Day of the Year
Dec. 31st, 2006 01:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ksmithThe Chicago Sun Times always features an appropriate word or phrase beneath the front page weather snip. Today's phrase is "mold lang syne." Completely appropriate. It rained most of the night, and misted for most of the morning. Now it's gray, with that damp 40s chill that somehow seems colder than dry, crisp 20s.
One 2007 resolution that I intend to keep? Read my freakin' manuscript in its entirety before I send it out to readers...and editor. Because I save to three different places--4, if you count the flash drive--and sometimes the new and old versions of chapters get mixed up even though I'm sure I saved the correct version and then I overwrite everything because I don't want multiple versions of the same chapter floating around because that way lies madness and then I finally get around to reading the only remaining version of chapter 1 and I realize that somewhere along the line I overwrote the wrong file, and the kicky little bit of *oomph* that so needed to be there...wasn't. And I ran out of time, and was deathly sick of the book, and I didn't read it through.
The little bit of *oomph* is there now. So's the name change that got garbled, and the change in profession.
I want to keep running. Jogging. Slow running. I totaled a tick over 12 miles last week, and I woke up this morning feeling more energetic than I have in years. My jeans have reached the point where I need a belt to hold them up. Just let my feet and knees hold up, because I like the way this is going.
And now, a snippet from the revised Chapter 2. Yes, it's going to be pure panic between now and mid-February. At least we have vacation.
***
"You're worried that Stash Markos will kick you off Elyas. You?" Niall rose and fell in beside her. "He never struck me as the type to harbor a death wish. You're talking nonsense, gel." He glanced overhead, and sighed. "I blame this damned sun." He fell silent, fixed on the view ahead. Then he drew a deep breath. "So, I expect that Markos and the others are coming here to consult with Tsecha about that bombing at the Amsun docks."
Not up to your usual standard, Colonel. Jani struggled to keep her face blank. You're usually so much more subtle when you pry. "Yes. They want to make sure that the word gets out that they support the Amsun Haárin, and that they'll not rest until they apprehend the parties responsible." And there was her reply, just as ham-handed. But as good a tale as any, and even more so for being partly true.
Niall studied her, the brim of his lid shading his eyes, hiding them from her gaze. Then he gripped her elbow and pulled her to a stop. "Whatever happens, whatever--" He looked up the street, now filled with hybrids working, talking, and lowered his voice to a rough whisper. "You'll get some warning. I know people. I'll get you out."
One 2007 resolution that I intend to keep? Read my freakin' manuscript in its entirety before I send it out to readers...and editor. Because I save to three different places--4, if you count the flash drive--and sometimes the new and old versions of chapters get mixed up even though I'm sure I saved the correct version and then I overwrite everything because I don't want multiple versions of the same chapter floating around because that way lies madness and then I finally get around to reading the only remaining version of chapter 1 and I realize that somewhere along the line I overwrote the wrong file, and the kicky little bit of *oomph* that so needed to be there...wasn't. And I ran out of time, and was deathly sick of the book, and I didn't read it through.
The little bit of *oomph* is there now. So's the name change that got garbled, and the change in profession.
I want to keep running. Jogging. Slow running. I totaled a tick over 12 miles last week, and I woke up this morning feeling more energetic than I have in years. My jeans have reached the point where I need a belt to hold them up. Just let my feet and knees hold up, because I like the way this is going.
And now, a snippet from the revised Chapter 2. Yes, it's going to be pure panic between now and mid-February. At least we have vacation.
***
"You're worried that Stash Markos will kick you off Elyas. You?" Niall rose and fell in beside her. "He never struck me as the type to harbor a death wish. You're talking nonsense, gel." He glanced overhead, and sighed. "I blame this damned sun." He fell silent, fixed on the view ahead. Then he drew a deep breath. "So, I expect that Markos and the others are coming here to consult with Tsecha about that bombing at the Amsun docks."
Not up to your usual standard, Colonel. Jani struggled to keep her face blank. You're usually so much more subtle when you pry. "Yes. They want to make sure that the word gets out that they support the Amsun Haárin, and that they'll not rest until they apprehend the parties responsible." And there was her reply, just as ham-handed. But as good a tale as any, and even more so for being partly true.
Niall studied her, the brim of his lid shading his eyes, hiding them from her gaze. Then he gripped her elbow and pulled her to a stop. "Whatever happens, whatever--" He looked up the street, now filled with hybrids working, talking, and lowered his voice to a rough whisper. "You'll get some warning. I know people. I'll get you out."
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Date: 2007-01-01 03:52 am (UTC)I consider Niall completely safe, unless he's crossed. You'd find him in the lobby of the opera house during intermission, sipping straight whiskey and discussing fine points of the performances with the other opera wonks. He'd be dressed very sharply, and strike you as quite professorial. But you'd wonder about the scar.
Lucien is the one who would scare me, because he breaks things for the fun of it. But he does seem to have his fans...
Congrats on the running. I'm planning on doing something similar starting tomorrow, but you, you've already started and accomplished things.
Thanks. I had to do something. The biking didn't work out and walking wasn't enough. I really hope my body doesn't let me down, because I'm starting to like this more and more. I like being able to jog for 45 minutes straight--yeah, I'm sagging toward the end, but I can vary the speeds and push myself. I may try inclines next.