Friday, May 15, 2009

Friday, Again?

Boy this week went fast. And I have precious little to show for my time.

I've been getting up earlier, but the last couple of days I've made up for it by having a nap in the afternoon. Wednesday I napped trying to get rid of a migraine, and Thursday I napped because the sinus medication I was taking made me so sleepy I couldn't focus on the computer screen.

Writing-wise I spent a lot of time struggling with a poem I want to submit to a horror anthology. It's a themed anthology and I thought it would be fun. I was wrong. It felt like for every three words I wrote down I deleted five. I've never had to struggle with a poem the way I did this one. Not even the sestina from the PAD challenge gave me this kind of grief.

I also focused on my short stories and picked one to edit over the course of the week. You can see the finished product over on my writing blog .

By hook or by crook I'm getting a new bookcase this weekend. It really drives me crazy seeing all those books stacked up and bagged up and boxed up. I want them out where I can see them.

Wow. Talk about distracting. I just saw a cement truck go by. What on earth would a cement truck be doing in this neighborhood? This is an older, quiet neighborhood with well established homes - there's no room for new construction. Maybe he got lost. Maybe it's a sign that the next story I should work on is my horror story about a basement (the scarey part had to do with the cement).

Maybe I'll start working on it right now.

Have a good weekend. :-)

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

It is amazing where you find ideas....

Jewel Allen said...

Oooh...the cement truck detail is really creepy. Good luck with your poem. Sounds like a wonderful challenge!

Ciara said...

hey now you got that idea from me telling you about how when I was a kid the band guys told me that when our basement was dug up it was because there were dead bodies in the cement. :P

I think that memory pretty much sums up my childhood. . .that and plugging my ears because dad was drumming in the basement. . .

Carol, the cat slave said...

Fish! You're alive! :-)

Jewel: The cement truck isn't as creepy as the little old lady passing our house every day - she's a dead ringer (pardon the pun) for my Aunt who passed away.

Ciara: Didn't I tell you to never believe anything the band guys tell you? (Or your father for that matter.)