Which means I’m having trouble blogging.
Yesterday I ran all the way to the end of the novella, but then spent the night re-writing the climax in my head. Which is something I do.
Discuss among yourselves? Do women normally balk the ending fight/confrontation/climax?
This is something I do consistently — so consistently I know I need to “just finish anyway, then fix it.” It seems to me a lot of the other female writers (some males too, but mostly females) don’t do this, so you have the big bad and then he vanishes and the creatures of the forest dance, or something. Is it my imagination? Is it only my sense this happens mostly among women?
Of course, for me, this is my peculiar form of ADHD. I know the character is going to win and how, so I rush. I’ve come to realize the readers enjoy their slugging match, though. I do when reading other people’s work. So, I go back in and add another five thousand words.
Anyway, that’s where my head is right now and it makes it hard to blog.
Also today my computer is slow as molasses. I might have to reboot, as it’s not keeping up with my typing.
And this morning, one of our Social Justice Warriors (not ours, mind you. If they were ours as such, we’d trade them for bottles of cheap liquor and break every one) was whining about the Patriarchal society. This from a woman who is a college professor of upper middle class background to whom everything has been given due to her gender, vestigial minority status (she’s lighter than I) and never ending whining.
Future historians are going to look at our society where the privileged and easy-living screamed they were discriminated against and think we’re crazier than we are. And that’s saying a lot.
Has there ever been a society in which reality and the mental map to that society were so divorced? And can we survive this? I know they can’t survive if there’s a collapse, but can we if there isn’t? At some point our elites and “intelligensia” are going to be legislating a unicorn in every pot and refusing to believe there are no unicorns. What then? They’re close enough to it now.
(Of course we say we take our technology and destroy their echo chamber strongholds in media and education and entertainment. We must do it. It’s for survival. It’s for the children.)
And so, this a non post that’s an excuse for a post. Excuse me while I torture Lucius some more. (Now with more broom-borne battles.)
If I become more compus mentis (AH!) as the day goes on, I’ll post again. Meanwhile go over and show Kate some love at MGC. She’s in her magnificent rant mode.
UPDATE: Two things I forgot. Our very own Dorothy Grant pinged me this morning with an interesting thought — sinus infections and sinus meds seem to turn off the “writing thing” in most writers, which I suppose helps (to an extent) exonerate my not writing for a year or so, or at least not finishing much of anything, because the sinus she’s been terrible.
Speaker to Lab Animals and I have discussed for years this extra organ that compels us to create. Something in the writers brain. Apparently we were looking in the wrong place and we shall nose it out.
Second thing, while having breakfast I was reading an article about old phrase books with ancient phrases like “Help, my postillion was struck by lightning”
Two thoughts hit at once: first, wouldn’t it be hilarious to have a time traveler come back to our time with a weird phrase book that mixes 19th century tech and things not yet invented? It’s so hard after all to know EXACTLY what the tech was at a certain place in time. You’d think there would be time travelers just doing phrase collection for other, less learned, travelers, with things they might need to say.
The second was a phrase book to help when you travel magic and sf worlds. Stuff like “I am a friend of Adam Selene.” “Lazarus Long will not be happy with you.” “The pig is wearing a dress.” “Chrestomanci” etc.
If I lie down and close my eyes, the ideas will go away, right?
Ow, my nose!