loaded_march

I'm really late to the party (as anyone can attest from my perpetual scramble to keep up with things), but I noticed this yesterday, and I think it perfectly captures the theme for #12.  Magicalmuggle3791 did another "cover" for Loaded March, and you should all go over to their Tumblr to see it!

Well.  Unless you don't want spoilers.  In which case you should wait.

More pages... and one more scene I've skipped over to fix later, bringing the total such things to fix to four.  Some are easy, some require more writing, and at least one of them means I have to sketch out [spoiler redacted] and fix [spoiler redacted].

But right now I'm burned out, so I'm taking a break before going through the rest tomorrow, and hopefully fixing those four important things over the weekend.

The first time I met the student who would be working with me for a couple of months, I only saw the back of his head and the way he was curved over the paperwork he needed to sign before he could get started.  He's thin, more on the lean side than skinny scarecrow, with curly short brown hair, a sardonic sense of humour, and kind of a lopsided sort of grin.  He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him.

A couple of days passed.  I showed him a procedure and his fingers, despite the gloves, seemed glued to the containers he was trying desperately (but carefully) to let go.  He apologized profusely and said he had "sticky fingers".  I jokingly said, "It's OK, I know you're secretly Spider-man."

Then it hit me.  My student is freaking Peter Parker.  He looks like the spitting image of Andrew Garfield.  He even has the chin scruff.

Now I just have to watch out for Dr. Connors.


Anyway!  Metrics.  I managed pages.  You should thank my beta profusely when this is done; she has saved you from my tendency to write impossibly long, run-on sentences.  It's embarrassing how many I've had to fix so far.

(the subject has no relation to his post)

A couple of days ago I posted (behind friendslock) that I was swamped with work (all the work-related whining is why there's a friendslock in the first place), but I'll repeat it here: I didn't mean to drop off the face of the earth.  I've just been so busy that when I did have time, all I wanted to do was bang my head on a hard surface and/or scream.

In any case, the stuff at work isn't getting in the way of progress for LM #12.  It's been in a beta's hands for all this time and they've been in regular contact with me to let me know their progress.  I'm hesitant to set an ETA for posting at this point, because my Stupid Busy at work is unlikely to ease up for some time.

What I want to do is see it posted by the Easter weekend, at the very least, and that's what I'm aiming for right now, particularly because my schedule for the month of April has gone completely sideways.  While I'll be finished the majority of the crunch work by the end of March, about a half-dozen other things popped up for April -- including a vacation somewhere warm and tropical.

I don't think there'll be a lot of writing done in the month of April, which sucks for me because I wanted to get started on my Big Bang.  I have something on paper for it right now, but nowhere near as much as I'd like.

My writing plans for the next few months will be limited to two major projects: Paperlegends and an original novel.  I will likely be posting smaller fics in-between (comfort fics, for example, like the one I started this weekend, but your guess is as good as mine if I will finish it) in the interim.  I don't think I will be able to start LM#13 until after I finish the two big projects.

It's depressing news, especially for me, but there's just not enough time to write, lately.  Who invented a 24 hour day, anyway?


In other news, here have a bit of a funny from a conversation with the Spouse:

Where I'm out of the shower, and my hair has decided to part deep on the left side instead of it's usual side or center part:

Spouse: What happened to your hair?

Me: Shut up.  It does this sometimes.  I had nothing to do with it.

Spouse: You have a comb-over.

Me: I do not have a comb-over.  (/mispronounced)

Spouse: You don't pronounce the "b".

Me: So it's pronounced come-over?

Spouse: (/eyeroll) No, it's pronounced comb-over.

Me: Cum-over? (/trying again)

Spouse: Don't mind if I do! (/overly cheerful)

Me: ...
Me: I walked right into that one, didn't I?

Spouse: Swung the door wide open and waltzed in like you owned the place, baby.


(It's funnier if you know that I have a French accent and still don't pronounce certain words properly even after all these years.)

I've done very little writing over the weekend -- it was one of those holy fuck, no one told me I had this much shit to do weekends -- and my word count on Friday was 2,500 words, and I managed 500-750 words today, which brings me to an approximate word count of... hold on, I have to adjust for screwing up the progress bar last time... of:



Huh. I thought I'd be further along. Damn it. But I'm getting there. There's at least one more scene that needs to be written. I need to put in another POV for a section. And I'm going to have to write an Extra, too, because it needs telling and it just didn't fit into the narrative.

Then I have to go through it and fix all the parts I'm sure I've missed and clean it up as much as I can. I'm wondering if anyone is willing to give it a quick beta? I know several people have volunteered in the past, but I don't want to impose on anyone who doesn't have the time to do it right now. Time frame? I could get it out to whoever's interested by next Sunday.


Now for two do my research questions for the LM Hive Mind (because I'm seeing double and I'm not finding it, damn it):

Did I ever give Kathy a surname and an occupation?

Do you remember That Guy^TM with the weird fuzzy-TV flipping-screen channel/illusion face? Does anyone happen to remember his name?

Why do I have so many weird conversations with the spouse? BECAUSE IT'S AWESOME.  Also, I can't help it.  He leaves openings I could drive a Mack truck through.  Sideways.


Conversation where the spouse is asking me to wake him up from his nap so that he can get ready for volleyball (note that his game starts at 7 PM, so he has to get ready at 6 PM):

Me: Yeah, I'll wake you up.  As usual.  But what time?  Specifics.  I need them.

Spouse: Eight o'clock.

Me (knowing he's just being an ass): Sure.  No problem.  Eight o'clock.

Spouse (after pausing and wondering if I'm being serious): I meant six.  Six o'clock.

Me: Eight o'clock.  Yeah, I got it the first time.

Spouse: No, no, I said six.  Six.  (holds up six fingers) SIX.

Me (making a pistol with my fingers, doing a gotcha clicking sound): Eight o'clock.  No problem.  Eight.

Spouse: You are the worst girlfriend.

Me: I know.

Spouse: I want a better girlfriend.

Me: I'm not stopping you.

Spouse: SIX.

Me: EIGHT.

---

I also have metrics. I did the best I could to reconstruct the 1,000 words I lost yesterday and wrote another 2,000 words. Work is interfering with my ability to get to the finish line (how dare it!), but I'll get there.

Conversations:

The spouse, on seeing me put the flowers he gave me for Valentine's Day in the compost bin:  "Aw.  And just like that, our love has died."

Me: "Ah, yup.  Time for a divorce."

---

The colleague, responding to my comment to his email asking him for more detail because I didn't want him to "sell himself short":  "Was that a short joke?"

Me: "I don't think it qualifies if I'm shorter than you."

---

A different colleague, when I was showing her how her how to trick a piece of software into doing what she needed it to do: "What was the step before you did all that?"

Me: "I opened the software.  Like this.  Move the mouse to the icon, doubleclick..."

(I have a bruise on my arm where she hit me)

---

The spouse, after getting my attention because the timer on the oven went off: "It just beeped once."

Me: "Oh, shit.  Oh, fuck.  What's the matter with you?  You're supposed to tell me before it beeps."

---

The boss, coming by to drop off the Health and Safety manual after taking three years to review it: "I hope you're not mad."

Me: "Nah, it's actually good timing.  I have to add new stuff to it anyway.  Apparently the Occupational Health and Safety Act was updated last fall.  All workplaces with more than ten people are now required to have an emergency evacuation plan in case of a zombie outbreak."

---

Me, after grumbling under my breath about having to tie my hair back for a procedure I'm about to do: "I need a haircut, but my hairdresser moved.  Can you guys recommend a hairdresser?"

Yet another colleague: "My sister!"

Me: "Is she any good?"

Yet another colleague: "I don't know."

Me: "You wanted me to go to your sister so that I could be your guinea pig, right?  In case she's awful, because you didn't want to mess up your hair?"

Yet another colleague: "Um, yes?"

---

The spouse, while watching a Star Trek rerun: "Vulcan neck pinch for the win!"

Me: "I counter your Vulcan neck pinch with a Klingon slap."

The spouse: "Damn it."

---

And now for metrics:

When it rains, it pours, and since I'm posting some really amazing fanart (holy shit, people, you blow my mind away, you know that?) I should also mention that there is now a Deviant Art page for linking Loaded March fanart.  I'm not involved in this; the enterprising manitrix has created the page.  My only reservation about it when I was asked if it was OK was to make sure that the artists gave permission for it to be added to the page, in which case I was told:

so the page has been created (http://lm-hive-mind.deviantart.com/) it's made in the way that allows every artist to submit their own work, so I'm not submitting anything or at least they have to approve it.

Which makes me happy because artists deserve ownership and recognition for their own work.  Thank you for setting it up, manitrix!


In other news, I talked to my boss about a stupid-stressful situation at work and we're trying to defuse it, but the more it goes on the less sleep I get.  I think I put in two hours of sleep last night?  Either it's the stress or it's another it's a full moon-induced isomniac phase, which is annoying either way.  But I managed 3,000 words for LM#12, so I can't complain.

It was bound to happen.

LM #12 spilled out like so much verbal diarrhea -- up to this point, that is, when I ran face-first into a wall.  This latest section is giving me trouble like a five-year old that got too much sugar too close to bedtime, and is screaming their head off, scratching fingernails on the floor while I try to drag them to the bedroom.

Even though I deleted a bunch of words yesterday and wrote new ones to replace them, today, I barely crested 2,000 words, and I'm not entirely happy with them.  The problem is a bit of worldbuilding that hasn't really been clarified, either in past Parts or in my head, because it hasn't come into play before (but has always been there) and sorting it out and making it make sense is harder than it looks.

Kind of like building a ship in a bottle when you have oven mitts on your hands.

I'm taking the weekend to do the head-scratching thing to sort it out.  I'm hoping it's just an issue of where do I go from here and not what the fuck did I just do, and go forward with more writing instead of going back while wielding the mighty delete key.

Happy Friday, everyone.  Have a great weekend!

I made myself a hot chocolate when I got home.  There were no marshmallows, but there was Bailey's.  It was a really bad day, okay?

My knee is somewhat better, but I could do without random people who don't talk to me otherwise being nosy because I'm limping (and trying to hide it), then mocking me by saying what did you do to yourself now? or by trying to worry me by saying you're going to need X-rays and surgery, because once the knee goes, it goes, and by being a pretentious little asshole by ordering me, if you're still going to the gym, stop now.

Apparently appropriate responses to not-so-polite inquiries and unsolicited advice are not:

• "I threw myself through a plate glass window trying to escape someone else asking me that very same question."
• "Excellent, my plan to slowly turn into a Cyborg is off to a good start."
• "There are other things to do at the gym that don't involve knees, you twatwaffle."

Just FYI.

*

Sometimes, I want to shake the Interwebs until I find something to entertain me.  Any random fic just won't do; people aren't updating their LJ frequently enough (WHY); Facebook annoys me; I've already read the news... oh, look, Tumblr!  Anyway, I found this on Tumblr, and I guess, since I:

1. like silly poems like these
2. find statements like "After trying the verses, a Frenchman said he’d prefer six months of hard labour to reading six lines aloud" a personal challenge
3. really have no bad how my spoken English is, since I have an accent

I read the poem.  Out loud.  And I recorded it on Garage Band.

Who wants to listen to it and tell me how ridiculous I sound? (there's probably sounds of me giggling and stumbling over some words and massacring others; toward the end, one of my dogs came trotting into the room and thromped his toy around).

*

There were also words today.  If being antisocial means I write more, then having a bad day means I write fluffy stuff, so take of that what you will.