September 12th, 2006

getting by

Dizziness etc.

Much shakiness this morning: timprov was not mobile enough to make it to an appointment this morning, and this was probably just as well because around an hour ago I became too dizzy to drive, so we would have been stranded. (And it was the sort of appointment he can reschedule soon, not the sort he will have to reschedule for three months from now. He has both kinds. So yay, as these things go.) I have taken the wee blue-and-white as-needed pill for the vertigo and am quietly but fervently wishing it would go away. Our polling place is not far away, and markgritter can do the driving for that, so at least that's not hard.

Also my head is still kind of metaphorically vibrating with a scene on The True Tale of Carter Hall, which I'm not writing, except maybe this scene to get my head to stop vibrating. It's the reverberating kind of vibrating, where it's not echoing any more but the aftereffects are still there. Very satisfying in its own way. That one doesn't need to go away. Oh, and before haddayr got to the Tea Source last night, I figured out what SF short story I'm writing next, and I even outlined it. I rarely do anything so formal as outlining a short story, but this one is structure-y. Practically overflowing with structure. So the outline is a goodness, and now I can write it, and this is good.

The dog, it turns out, is desperately fond of cornbread. She sits and gazes soulfully up at the person eating it: see what a Good Puppy I am? See how nicely I sit? Doesn't it make you want to share your cornbread with the Very Good Girl? She is also mad keen on cool fall mornings -- half the time she noses my leg on her way out the door and looks up at me: are you sure you don't want to come with? Are you sure? The only thing she's not so keen on about fall so far is that I'm sometimes covering my knees and elbows, and those are the best places to shove a wet puppy nose to get a monkey's attention.

There was something else, but it'll come wandering back later, or else not.
bletchley

Head like a gong

My brain feels like the inside of a bell today, sent vibrating very easily. I was looking at the statue link from tnh_particles and came upon one of the outdoor, weathered versions of this statue. And this is the problem with fantasy worldbuilding using real world history: I am deeply creeped by this. It has nothing to do with the "Coat of Peace" in the description, as far as I'm concerned. I know exactly what that statue is and why it's near that building in Stockholm (as well as several other European locations, I find), and believe you me, it is Not Okay. And this is very different from the time we went to the Rosicrucian Garden and started seeing Tim Powers moments everywhere. This is where the portion of my brain that writes these books starts scrambling backwards, whimpering, trying to get away as fast as possible. Most of my brain knows that that statue is not that scary, as folds of bronze go. The rest of my brain knows what Jatta Vaara did to the sculptor, and why.

Fruitbat. I know.

And then the other thing was another major keystone for The True Tale of Carter Hall, and they've fallen together enough that it's noveling away in my head, novel novel novel. Not writing it until I'm done with Sampo revisions, but notes, yes, notes we can have. Extensive notes. Notely notes.

Don't think I don't notice what you're doing, brain! I'm onto your brainly tricks!

Still dizzy. Etc.