“The people who need what you have to say are waiting for you and they don’t care that you think it's boring, unoriginal or lacking in value.”
Havi Brooks

author: Nicole J. LeBoeuf

actually writing blog

Good Morning
Sat 2003-11-01 10:41:36 (single post)
  • 1,151 words (if poetry, lines) long
  • 0.00 hrs. revised

For going to sleep at 4:30 am, I sure managed to wake up at 7:00 am. How disappointing. I was hoping for long, vivid dreams until early afternoon.

My housemate is brewing coffee. You can smell it in every room. My husband, who was awake longer than I playing Neverwinter Nights, is still snoring. The cats, now fed, are conspiring to keep me from getting up again. Today can afford to be a leisurely day; I'll write another couple hundred words and then try to get this blog finished up in ways you can see and in other ways that only I will notice.

Naively optimistic (and hungry too)
Sat 2003-11-01 04:22:00 (single post)
  • 1,151 words (if poetry, lines) long
  • 0.00 hrs. revised

Did I say dawn? Silly me.

Yeah. I did. I said, "I'll start writing at midnight and keep going straight until dawn!" Uh-uh. No way. At least, not likely.

The first scene of the novel is coming along very slowly; this is for a number of reasons. One has to do with the usual difficulty I find in pulling an all-nighter. Another has to do with my madly optimistic plan to type it all in Dvorak. I keep remembering the title to Holly Lisle's article about switching from QWERTY to Dvorak: "With Fingers Struck Dumb" or something like that. I've been practicing a little over the past few weeks, but still it takes enough concentration that I get sleepier even quicker.

And then there's my usual block where after having thought and thought and thought about a story for weeks, actually writing-it-down is a daunting task. It's like there's no way the words I put on the page will ever convey the movie going on in my head. (Maybe I should be a screenwriter instead of a novelist.)

On top of all this, I'm raging hungry. This from staying up as late as I have. I'd cheer for it - nothing like uncomfortable sensations to keep you awake, right? - but generally when starving-hungry and dead-tired get into a fight in my body, dead-tired wins.

It's lovely outside. I took a walk to keep myself awake around 2:00 MT, and the frost all over Boulder is 1/4-inch thick in places. Leaves, grass, and pine needles feel like plastic doll furniture. We'll see how much of the ice has escaped melting when I wake up again...

Let the chaos begin!
Fri 2003-10-31 23:55:16 (single post)
  • 0 words (if poetry, lines) long
  • 0.00 hrs. revised

Good morning everyone.

OK, so it's not quite morning yet. It's five minutes to midnight. At midnight, I'm going to brew myself some coffee and open up a new document, lovely in its infinite blankness, on the ancient-decrepit Compaq Aero... and begin to write this novel.

I haven't even quite finished developing the blog software here - I'm writing this journal entry directly into a mysql> prompt - but I'm going to start the damn novel at midnight.

Two minutes to go.

I'd tell you about my novel idea (ha, novel idea, geddit? whaddever), but then I might, like, squander it or something. Rich novel-juice dripping wasted into the dirt like some kind of libation to a demanding and thirsty God. Can't have that, can we? I'll come back in a few hours and be a bit more forthcoming at that time.

Oh yeah. Thanks for visiting!

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