Feb. 24th, 2012

kittydesade: (serene)
Gaeilge )

Oi, Irish info dump.

It's funny. I'm editing my own writing now, after letting it sit for a little while and after my editor's gone over it, and between the two of us we are very much shredding this thing. I think there might be a few one- or two-sentence paragraphs left alone except for a note to picture this in more detail if not write the details down, but that's about it. Damn. Sometimes I wonder... well, a lot of things. Why I'm not a bigger wreck when my writing is covered in red ink, even my own. (Well, red and green ink. Digital ink. Red and green pixels.) Why I'm not editing and why I don't volunteer to beta often. (I bitch. A lot.) Why I ever thought I could post/publish anything without editing it first, heh, I wonder that a lot. Somehow I suspect these edits are more thorough than my original mixer for BigBang mixup expected me to get into. That's fine, I'll know I've turned in my best work for the inspiration and the time frame.

So, that means today getting started on my other BBMs, hopefully they go quickly, and then getting all that turned in on the first. Which is also inspection day! Hopefully that'll help me freaking remember.

Did an experimental disc burning today to see if a) the discs I have are CD-Rs and b) if, being so, the CD player in the front of the store will play them if I burn a music CD on them. I know there's some funkiness with older CD players maybe not reading burned discs, although they may have fixed that since the last time I resorted to burned CDs not in computers. I feel a bit weird, like I'm kitbashing technology together or something. Instead of, of all things, using it for its intended purpose. Anyway, I burned the playlist I put on when I'm writing Long Road, which should be all right both for me and for everyone who might share the front counter duties with me. Somehow I don't think Pink's Fucking Perfect is the best track to put on in our store. Much as I like it.

But if it works, there'll be a lot of other CDs I can burn and that'll bring some damn variety to the music out front. And today's the day I'm most likely to end up there. And, please Lady, I won't have much in the way of house stuff to deal with today if any at all, so I can work on fiber kits, getting the mail out, maybe restocking some shelves. Maybe, gasp, shock, some knitting. Although I'm almost done with one placemat, go me! Probably would have gotten done a lot quicker if I'd started dictating and knitting at the same time a little sooner, oops. Now I know. Well, remembered. Dragon is still occasionally a pain in my ass, but it's still good enough to free up my hands to knit while I write. God I love modern technology.

There probably should be something more here. I've been keeping an eye on the Washington and Maryland Marriage Equality things, yes, but I'm holding off on the full celebration till I know it'll stick. On the other hand, that'd be a little over 1/6 of the states in the US with fully equal marriage laws. Which just reminds me that this is a stupid thing to be arguing about in the first damn place, separation of Church and State should dictate the goddamn state isn't involved in your marriage, but I don't see that changing anytime soon. So we'll settle for making marriage equal across the board, yeah? Yeah.

ETA: Via Network, I have no idea who Kiera Cass is, but apparently she doesn't realize that the internet is a) forever, and b) everywhere. Her YA books are being made into a CW show, because now that all the soaps are being cancelled the teenagers need their own stories, and she has no idea how to deal with bad reviews in a way that doesn't make her look like the bitch queen of the high school. More relevantly, she's apparently a terrible writer? Now I need to get a copy of her book and spork the hell out of it for my own amusement. Because, yes, sometimes I'm a really shallow bitch like that. Someone get me a copy.

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kittydesade: (sherlock and kitten)
Deutsch )

Yes, still being a shallow bitch re: Kiera Cass's first book, The Siren. But I'm confining myself to being a shallow bitch in private after some nudging from a friend. I still think the book is terribly written. It looks rather like something I would have written early on in high school. Hell, it reminded me that there are still some things I wrote that were probably published and out there right now that really deserve sporking, too. But the frothing rage and mad derisive laughter will remain private. I am, however, enjoying using it as an exercise in what not to do and why I write using the words, structures, images and phrases I do.

And I will admit that there are maybe two instances of word choice per page or so where the text is pretty purple, but that might be a convention of the genre rather than her being a bad writer. There are reasons I don't really read romance novels.

Today seems to be an editing day, actually. Between sporking the hell out of this book and editing my own stuff (which, while I do think the first draft is better, there's only maybe a third less red and commentary, just to give you an idea of how harsh an editor I am) there is a lot of breaking down text and analyzing the craft going on.

And then, you know, I commented that I'd read better 18th century French porn (for the joke, look at my username) and I realized that my journal is nine years and six days old today, on LJ. Holy crap. Happy birthday to my journal! It is now older than some of my cousins' kids. Possibly all of them.

I think that's it. There was a last minute freak out from yours truly about the bank needing a pre-approval letter (AGAIN) and me wondering if I needed to grab Bri and make him wake up and drive up to downtown to present paperwork but, no. That all got submitted by the wonderful, wonderful people who seriously need fruit baskets when this is all over, Mortgage Lady and Realty Lady. So that's all handled and now I just have to wait to hear when it's been signed by the selling bank, and then actually get the freaking paperwork home this time, deal with that over the weekend, and get it to Mortgage Lady on Monday. Which is really, really do-able. I feel so much calmer and lighter now.

Seriously, anyone want my cheese egg?

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