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greygirlbeastToday we will begin proofreading Silk, and it's going to weird as hell. Like going back to a town where you lived most of your life after being away for ages, only to discover that you're the only thing that's changed. I have said this before, but there was a time when this novel was almost all the world to me. Anyway, I'm going to track our progress through the photostat (which seems, oddly enough, to be taken from the 1998 mmp, not the 2002 tpb) with one of those goofy-ass Zokutou word-meter thingies. Just keep in mind I'm counting off pages, not words. Here is where we begin, grey on grey:
Ideally, this needs to be done by Friday. We shall see.
Let the tyranny of commas and hyphens begin.
Some preparatory work on The Dinosaurs of Mars yesterday. Reading mostly. I fear I have so much material for this novel, so much background, so much I want to put in, that the "story" will be entirely overwhelmed. This is why, usually, I try never to begin a story with plot, but with simple mental images or with characters. Plot, more often than not, is the enemy. Give it as little "screen time" as you can get away with.
The sun is bright this morning. The trees are going green.
Last night, Spooky and I began reading Steinbeck's Cannery Row (1945). It's one of my very favourite books, and at the moment I am more in need of old comforts than new discoveries. I think we read the first six chapters.
If you've not yet picked up a copy of Daughter of Hounds, today would suit the occasion, says Herr Platypus.
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Ideally, this needs to be done by Friday. We shall see.
Let the tyranny of commas and hyphens begin.
Some preparatory work on The Dinosaurs of Mars yesterday. Reading mostly. I fear I have so much material for this novel, so much background, so much I want to put in, that the "story" will be entirely overwhelmed. This is why, usually, I try never to begin a story with plot, but with simple mental images or with characters. Plot, more often than not, is the enemy. Give it as little "screen time" as you can get away with.
The sun is bright this morning. The trees are going green.
Last night, Spooky and I began reading Steinbeck's Cannery Row (1945). It's one of my very favourite books, and at the moment I am more in need of old comforts than new discoveries. I think we read the first six chapters.
If you've not yet picked up a copy of Daughter of Hounds, today would suit the occasion, says Herr Platypus.
