Dear Reader,
I know that I'm trying to get back to daily posting and here I am saying that I'm taking a week off. This week has a ton of appointments and such scheduled that interrupts my writing time. As such, I will be back next week (gods willing and the creek doesn't rise) to give you your daily posts. I really need to get my calendar into order. I scheduled too many things in one week. Ugh. See you next week, y'all.
Dear Reader,
If you are doing a lot of hand written work, you are going to be on the hunt for good pens and pencils. I've already mentioned the Ink Joy pens that I find really useful in my bullet journal and day planner. Today, I wanted to recommend a good felt tipped pen. The Papermate Flair pens have really great color saturation and typically don't bleed through your paper stock. Even if it's the flimsy super cheap stuff that they use for the cheapest composition books on the planet. (Not that I have any experience with that one. ;) )
I tried out the Tombow pens and found them somewhat lacking. They are ok but way over priced when you can get the same results for the Tombow hard tipped pen out of the Papermate Flair pens with more colors for the price of two Tombow pens. I have found that the Papermate Flair pens are really good for artistic work if you like to doodle in your notebooks. They last pretty long. The set that I have I picked up about two years ago and they're not showing any signs of slowing down. (The Ink Joy pens are finally showing their age after two and a half years of serious use.)
I'll be discussing brush pens and calligraphy pens in another post because I have opinions on those. I'm a bit picky about them. But, Papermate Flair are a really economical way to add more color to your writing and get the unique visual signature style of a felt tipped pen. I highly recommend them.
Dear Reader,
You would not believe the mess that I am sorting through. Book seven of the Umbrel Chronicles isn't completely garbled but it's a mess right now. It's been a challenge to dig through a stack of notebooks about a foot high to find what I had plotted out for the finishing scene of the book. It's just a disaster. I'm trying to get that under control but it's not working out very well because my schedule has been in disarray over the last few weeks.
Looking at the length of the serial stories, I am now considering collecting the individual posts into a couple of ebooks when they're done. Before it was just an idle thought. Now, however, I'm realizing that I have almost a full novella (if not a novel) worth of material up here. I'll keep you updated on that project. Right now, it is at the cogitation stage as I try to finish the series off.
Dear Reader,
I've burned through my writing time getting the latest installments of Dacia's War and The Iron Lily up. Now I have chores to do. But, yay for serial stories getting updated, right?
I'll have a new fantastic location for you next week, provided the stars align properly. :)
Al-Uzza shivered as she rode the pony along the steep trail upwards. She pointedly refused to look backwards because she knew that she'd be looking down if that were the case. The snow that fell the night before strangely did not reach the part of the road they were traveling. Al-Uzza questioned if it could rightly be called a road. Before her, Iona rode with a keen eye out for any bandits. Both Iona and Althos insisted that she shouldn't be riding at the head of the party but Al-Uzza refused to listen to them.
Just before Iona was their guide walking on the uneven ground. The rocky ground shifted and threatened to give way at times but the ponies were untroubled by it. As they came over the shoulder of the mountain, the guide stopped and looked back at Al-Uzza. "My Lady," he said, "If you look across the valley to the mountain just beyond, you will see Acidavia halfway up the slope, provided your eyes are sharp." Al-Uzza ignored the guide's barb and moved to dismount. The guide was there in a few moments and helped the priestess down.
Al-Uzza walked to the place where the guide had been standing. He reached out to point the way when Al-Uzza glared at him. She turned her attention to looking at the walled city perched on the mountainside. Along the southern wall of the city, she saw what she presumed was the army laying siege with their vast array of tents. A faint thrum echoed off the valley's walls and then came a crash. "Acidavia has great catapults and a goodly supply of material to throw, but they've been like this for weeks. I suspect that the city will fall soon," said a voice behind Al-Uzza.
The large woman turned to look at one of the mercenary commanders who had come forward from the company behind her. "Then we haven't time to waste talking. Gather your men and begin your way toward the city. Iona stay with me. Althos, you are their war-leader. All shall follow your command as you come upon the enemy. If you with to consult with these people for a plan of attack, I will allow it," Al-Uzza said.
"What about you?" Althos asked. Al-Uzza turned to look at the city she was to become mistress of.
"I do not need your tongue distracting me," she said tartly, "All of you go. When the last of the party has gone forward, I will begin." Althos gave a half bow, glancing over at Iona. The Silent Sister shrugged, not entirely sure what Al-Uzza was going to do from across the valley. The priestess and the nun waited side by side as the entire company marched past them. As they passed, some of the mercenaries gave the two women lecherous looks. Al-Uzza glowered as Iona put a hand on the pommel of her long knife. And then, the jangling of tack and gear mingled with the noise of marching feet was disappearing into the distance.
"Give me your knife," Al-Uzza said, doing her best to ignore the way her stomach ached and growled. She had not eaten in two days. She was cold and had a headache. Al-Uzza knew that her discomfort would be enough to bring down a storm but she felt that greater sacrifice was needed. Iona handed her knife over to Al-Uzza. For a moment, Iona looked at the hard expression on Al-Uzza's face. "In ancient days, one was sacrificed to Julara to bring rain. If our Lady demanded it of you, would you lay down your life?" Al-Uzza asked Iona.
Iona straightened and looked towards Acidavia. She took off her glove and pushed back her sleeve, bearing her right wrist. "Cut upwards, along the vein, and deep," Iona said. Al-Uzza turned her attention back to the city.
"Today is not the day you shall die," Al-Uzza said, "Bring that pony over." Iona looked at the two ponies and selected the one that she had been riding. Iona took the riding gear off of the beast and lead it to Al-Uzza. Al-Uzza looked the creature over and nodded. She began to sing in an ancient tongue that had been all but forgotten except by the priestesses and librarians of Julara. Iona held the pony's head still as Al-Uzza cut across the doomed animal's throat. Blood fountained out as the pony tried to shy away. Al-Uzza dropped the knife and took handfuls of blood. She threw them into the sky in the direction of Acidavia. As the pony dropped to the ground, Al-Uzza did her best to catch as much blood and throw as she could with her bare hands. She sang the eerie song the whole time that both was familiar and unfamiliar to Iona.
Clouds gathered over Acidavia. At first, a gentle rain began to fall. Then the rain fell harder and began to freeze. The people Acidavia cowered in their homes. They knew that rain in the dead of winter was unheard of. The Governor of Acidavia shouted to his soldiers to leave their posts and ensure the gates of the city were barred before taking shelter. Outside of the city, the army gave a cheer as they saw soldiers leaving their posts along the battlements. That cheer turned to cries of alarm as the ice began to settle and form over all out exposed in it, building, beast, and person alike. Where regular rain would have soaked them to the bone, this enchanted rain froze as it fell on them and restricted their movements.
The rain poured until the army was driven into their shelters. Those who had no shelter froze to death upon their feet. Ice encased the tents and the city. As this happened, Althos and the fighting force were hastening their way across the valley. It was dusk when they reached the rearguard of the army and the rain had stopped. Some of the mercenaries swore at the sight about them.
"Take them tent by tent," Althos commanded. And the fighting men did just that. There were screams and some died. Most of the mercenaries and the warriors that Decebal sent came out of the tents alive. The enemies that tried to hide in them were slaughtered. Away on the other mountain, Al-Uzza and Iona made their way down. Althos sent Decebal's men to meet them in the valley. The siege had been broken.
Halthor woke in the small hours of the morning when the traveler's rest had a cold draft blow in. Halthor sat up on the fire warmed sleeping platform and looked over. In the ruddy light of the smoored fire, he saw a man that wore the colors of the priesthood of the goddess. This confused him, as only women were in the service of great Roen, goddess of all life. As the man took off his furred hat and approached the fire, Elwis sniffed the pack he had set down beside the door when he entered.
Halthor stared at the man in amazement. His skin was a dark color that Halthor had never seen before. "Are you a man or a spirit?" Halthor asked quietly. The man gave a good natured laugh.
"I am Khasis, servant of the Lady and guest of the High Priestess of Roen. She sent me east to seek out the one who bore the arms of the Iron Lily," he said as he pulled off his mitts and stretched his hands out to the fire. "Ah," he sighed, "For nine days, I have been traveling over hill and dale. It would have been ten if that storm came to the mountain but it moved north of us. We were fortunate." Khasis looked over at the red eared dog.
"You, dog? We meet again," he said, "Last time I saw you, Freystein was passing through the valley going north. Tell me, dog, have you found what you were looking for?" Elwis trotted over to Halthor and sat beside his feet. Khasis gave Halthor a critical look. "This is a builder with a shield, not a hero," Khasis scoffed. Elwis surprised Halthor and Khasis by giving a low growl. Khasis raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, dog, be offended. If it pleases you to name him hero, so be it. I don't see it," Khasis said, "I just see another poor soul trying to stay warm in this gods cursed weather. Ah, to be in Dacia. At least it was warm in the desert."
"You were traveling in the dark?" Halthor asked.
"An old habit, if you're traveling long distances in the desert, do as much in the night as you can to avoid the heat of the day," Khasis answered, "The snow glows like the sands do in the light of the three children of Julara. Now, give me your name, builder, as I have given you mine and names have power and should not be given lightly."
"I am Halthor Sigridsonne," the red haired builder answered cautiously.
"Victory's son? Perhaps he is the one you sought, dog," Khasis said, "Tell me, did you come from the city of Starhaven?" Halthor nodded. "Then there is hope for this scribe of the Lady and his adopted homeland," Khasis said, "I come with a message from the High Priestess of Roen. She bade me to tell you not to give Olerand his great-grandfather's arms but pledge yourself to them."
"I am a builder, not a knight," Halthor said with exasperation.
"I am a scribe, not a priestess," Khasis answered, "And yet, I live as they do in this land under the eye of their leader and as a servant to her will. And through her will, do I serve my Lady."
Halthor lowered his head and cradled it in his large, work worn hands. "All I know is how to build things," Halthor muttered, "Knights have been fighting all their lives."
"And yet you have fought mighty battles on your way here," Khasis answered, gesturing at the shield.
"I had no choice," Halthor snapped at him, his head whipping upright, "I've had no choice in any of this."
Khasis crouched before the fire and looked thoughtfully into it. "Sometimes, my friend," Khasis said almost too quietly to be heard over the crackling of the smoored fire, "We have no choice because the gods have put us on a path that is like a river, ever flowing that will drown you if you fight it." Khasis looked over at Halthor.
"I have been here for three years. I have not seen my homeland in seven. I don't know how to get back to Dacia. I have had no choice in any of this myself. Sometimes, we have no choice but go where the gods send us," Khasis said, "Now, we must rest. Tomorrow, I shall go with you to the village of Applewood. The priestess there will house us and tell you the way to Olerand's lands. For if you continue south as you have been, you will find yourself back in the mountains and in another land."
Dear Reader,
This is literally the first time all day I have had a chance to sit down at the keyboard and type up a blog post. I've been running errands and trying to keep up with a couple of busy kids all day. I feel like today was second Monday. I prefer there only being one Monday per week. Second Monday is worse than second breakfast in the company of Gollum. I will be updating Dacia's War and The Iron Lily tomorrow, gods willing and the creek don't rise.
Dear Reader,
Poison ivy is everywhere in the region where I live. It's a real pest. Because it is so common and so annoying, it found its way into my books. Just like the suicidal fuzzy ninjas (aka whitetail deer) that are a menace around here. Poison ivy doesn't really have any useful purposes but I am going to work it into a scene where someone is stuck dealing with a bad case of it and get a bit grumpy. Near where you find poison ivy growing, you can find jewel weed. That acts as a natural balm for poison ivy and helps relieve some of the symptoms. Because I am a benevolent goddess to my characters, they have that resource to help them. Why rely on magic to cure everything when you just have to crush up a few plants and rub the leaves on the itchy spots, right?
Dear Reader,
As critical as I have been over this book The Artist's Way, there is one concept that I think is useful and endorse. That is spending a set amount of time on unstructured, unplanned writing. Ms. Cameron calls this the Morning Pages, because she encourages participants in The Artist's Way to do these pages in the morning before their day really gets busy. I've moved away from Morning Pages in particular and taken to just doing free writing in my journal every morning. It's had mixed results. I'm considering switching back to a timed, free writing blog post in the morning before getting to the featured article for the day.
In either case, free writing allows your mind to wander and limber up before getting down to the serious task of creative work. I spend ten minutes a day doing it. I just scribble out my thoughts and ideas as fast as I can for those ten minutes before I move on to my next task for the morning. Some days it is ranting about things in life that are really irritating me. Other days what I scribble down almost borders on profound thoughts, if it weren't for the fact that they'er nearly illegible because of how fast I wrote them.
It works to warm me up to writing and get me into the proper headspace for working on blog posts, journal work, and novel writing. I highly recommend it.
Dear Reader,
I finished writing and editing my project for Camp NaNoWriMo last night. It's off at the publisher being reviewed before it goes up for sale as an ebook. It's a religious text. A devotional prayer book for people who worship the Norse god Loki. This isn't the first devotional that I've written. I've written others for the goddess of the Filianic/Déanic religion known as Déa. But the Lokean devotional was probably the most challenging of the ones I've written. For one thing, the Lokean community is exceptionally diverse in their practices. What I put together represents but a small fraction of those practices. It is my hope that the little Lokean devotional book brings new devotees of Loki a sense of comfort and a bit of hope that they can engage this oft maligned god with out fear.
There's a big debate between Myth!Loki and Marvel!Loki devotees as to which is superior. The answer is, in my mind, simple. Marvel!Loki is a mask worn by Myth!Loki to reach new devotees in the modern era. Unfortunately, there's a lot of hostility going on between the two groups, encouraged by some shit-stirrers who are trying to make a name for themselves based off the notoriety. It's kinda amusing in a dark way because they're acting in the exactly the same way that Snorri Sturlison portrayed Myth!Loki towards the end of the Prose Edda. I have disagreements and opinions about that but its all for another day and another blog. Long story short, Snorri Sturlison is not a primary source and shouldn't be waved about as one. There's a lot of people who do that forgetting that he was writing approximately 300 years after active practice of the Norse native religion was stamped out. Everything is colored and warped by the passage of time and the lens through which he viewed these holy stories.
That's all I'm going to say on that point, aside from this: always check your sources when you're doing research. The closer you can get to primary sources, the better. If that is one thing I learned in the history classes I took at college, it is primary sources are the best ones for you to work from.
But, Camp NaNoWriMo progresses and I'm going to spend the remainder of the month working on those fics that I was editing before my brain went explody due to my bipolar back towards the beginning of the year. My biggest problem is I can't think of a title for any of the individual books. I've got one for the series that I'm writing, but each book is just a blank for me. I may have to have someone give a few of the books a once over to let me know what they think would be a good title. Who knows. The worst part is, I have to write blurbs and I'm terrible at that. I can write a synopsis for non-fiction but a blurb for fiction makes my brain blue-screen.
Dear Reader,
This week has been filled with things taking me away from my writing. Somehow, in spite of all this, I have managed to hit the final third mark of the book. Granted it is a short book, but it's been difficult to write with so many distractions about me. We did arts and crafts yesterday. I am now dying wool with the leftover purple tie-dye dye packet. It's a solar dying process. We'll see what shade of purple I'll get out of this. I'm going to be leaving it in the sun for a week and then processing it. It has me thinking about what plants you can use to dye fabric and which ones would be worth something in the world of the Umbrel Chronicles. The thought of someone smuggling madder roots from one place to another sounds like it could make an interesting short story on how they're trying to work around sumptuary laws and such. Something to consider.
Dear Reader,
Horses are a familiar animal and a commonly used beast of transportation and burden in fantasy stories. What isn't answered is how these people got their horses. Now, in medieval history, the horse was an animal that was reserved for nobility and the wealthy. They cost a good deal to feed, care for, and generally keep up with. In the terms of the Umbrel Chronicles of Evandar, not everyone has horses and they're not as common as seen in other fantasy books.
Horses originated out in the grassland regions and the desert regions of the world. In the mountainous regions, like the northern part of Evandar and most of Ranyth, there are native ponies that resemble the Shetland ponies of our world. These animals are the beasts of burden and such of the lower classes because horses are the property of the wealthy. Sumptuary laws prohibit certain classes of people from even owning ponies because of their resemblance to horses.
With the migratory periods before and after the first Great War of the Gods, horses were brought into places like Evandar and Ranyth. They are still most frequently found on the grasslands and in the desert regions. Wild horses are present in those locations and cultures were built around capturing and domesticating them. (I hope to introduce them as I get more into the stories of Ranyth which borders a place where such a culture is present.)
Horses are associated with the god Kaileth and the wind in Evandar and Ranyth. They are considered in folklore to be one of the oldest non-magical animals in the world after deer. The horses of the Umbrel Chronicles are mostly like the horses of our world. Occasionally, there may be one that is a bit strange and touched by the divine. But this is the exception, not the rule.
Dear Reader,
I have a lot of writing I do on a given day. Most of it is thereputic in orientation because of my disability. I have an honest to gods sand filled hourglass. It runs for 10 minutes. I use it to time my entries in my various journals. I'm going to start using it to time my entries in my blogs because since I began using my timer for my journal work, I have found that I am actually getting more done.
Now, I type faster than I write. That leads to typos which I habitually backspace and correct as I go. I may have to break that habit in order to get the draft of the post done in ten minutes. I don't know. But I do know that for a mere dollar, this little gadget was an excellent buy. I have something I can set up beside me at my work space and be a visual reminder of time running by and a way to track how I'm doing. As of right now, I'm a bout a third of the way through my timer and running out of ideas for how to phrase how awesome this thing has become.
Some of my best writing tools are not pens, pencils, or even computers. They're little gadgets like this sand timer or desk toys that relieve my stress. They add ambiance to my work space. Some people keep these things for the ecletic aesthetic. Everything at my work space is here for a purpose. The wind up toy astronaut is my mental focus for writing science fiction. (It helps that it's Snoopy. I have a fondness for that little cartoon dog. I am disappointed he didn't get to keep his Red Baron scarf to go with the space suit.) The one eyed miniature pink elephant in a crochet toy cup is just a reminder to keep working because my kids look up to me and I have people who believe in me. And yes, the elephant is missing it's right eye and I named it Odin and gave it an eyepatch. Odin is always watching me, keeping me on task.
If that's not a bit of heathenry in action, I'm not sure what is. I'll probably have to say that my momentos and keepsakes all are important for various reasons. But the biggest thing about them is that they help me focus. Working in the home with two preteens is really rough during the summer (well, all year round actually). Still, with my stuff to help me focus and my little writing mascots/toys to serve as a mental break when things get hard, I can produce work. After that, the trick is schedule management and getting my disability to let me work. Stupid bipolar is stupid.
Dear Reader,
They have surrounded the camp and taken work time as hostages. Their demands are many. I have done my best to placate them, but cat videos and meme videos are losing their effectiveness. I share meals with them but they refuse to surrender work time, insisting that I listen to their tales of the place known as 'school'. I have vague memories of such a place. These could perhaps be refugees. I have attempted to bribe them with movies, but the ones they want to watch are pure torture. I can only stand cartoon trains for so long. I'd say send supplies or whiskey but these young men will steal my supplies for writing by hand in secret for their own plotting and I dare not consider what would happen if whiskey entered the equation. Word count is no longer on the table as a target. I now aim for what little stolen moments I can have. Forgive me, they call out "Mom" and summon me again.
Dear Reader,
I'd love to describe another place in my fantastic little world but I'm currently sucked into a non-fiction work. (I'm writing a devotional for the Lokean community. It's been kind a rough going because the kids are very distracting. I'm reminded why NaNoWriMo in November is always more successful for me. The update on how that's going will be tomorrow.) I will try to get something up for you next week, provided the kids give me a few minutes peace to get it written.
Dear Reader,
I found my notes for the next part of the Iron Lily. Cause for celebration, except for one problem, they're completely out of order and in three notebooks. Look back here next week for the next installment of the Iron Lily. Don't worry, Halthor and Elwis still have plenty of adventures ahead of them. I just have to put the details in the right order. This is the problem of having a stack of notebooks about 1ft tall with ideas in it. I need a better organizational system. LOL
Dear Reader,
Some of us have the luxury of having style manuals and an assortment of other useful books on hand. Others of our crew have impressive internet search skills that brings the information to their fingertips. However you have your resources accessible, keep them near by. We learn a lot from the writing process by doing. At the same time, nothing is quite as handy as a good thesaurus or as vital as a good dictionary. (You're not required to have the murder weapon sized dictionary that I own, but the Webster's Unabridged Dictionary is a great dual purpose tool. It also works well to help hold up a coffee table with a third of the leg missing. I suppose you could say it's multifunctional.)
I miss the days of encyclopedias. I have a fondness for working from paper. That said, good digital archives of information are vital for making sure that you have all your proverbial ducks in a row when you're writing scenes instead of a horde of squirrels at a rave. Editing the squirrel rave is ugly, trust me. Glow stick nunchucks plus angry squirrels does not make for an easy time correcting the scene's flow or fixing details. If you're lucky, the music is the good version of dubstep and not the dubstep version of the Thomas the Tank Engine theme. (It's on Youtube, my kids have watched it a thousand times. Please kill me.)
They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I say keep your sources closer than your enemies and work in secret. This way they never knew what hit them when your project drops and you can just count the bodies as they fall. (Or something.) Write your first draft with abandon and joy. Work out that second, third, and umpteenth draft with your resources at your side. It'll tighten up your plot in the places where it's gotten out of whack. It'll help you keep that dramatic tension just right. And it'll prevent your work from being invaded by angry rave squirrels with nunchucks of disinformation.
Dear Reader,
I keep trying to find writing time and it keeps getting eaten by the kids. I have only one page written. I'm stumped on how to go forward. I hope that I can find time to work today and make up for the lost two days. My goal was to write for one hour a day every day on my Camp NaNoWriMo project. The problem is, that always seems to be the time that the kids get into a fight, need my help with something, or do something completely ridiculous that requires me to help clean up a disaster. I don't know if my writing time is jinxed (because it's different on different days) or if it's just the fact that my kids are home from school screwing up my schedule.
I wanted to do blogging yesterday and that completely went sideways. As such, I'm doing two posts today. I really hate the touchpad on my new laptop because it is hyper-sensitive. If you look at it funny, the mouse pointer is off in random directions and things are getting selected for no apparent reason. I'm going to try to run to the local wally world and pick up an optical mouse (because the old one died a week after the old computer did, right as I started using it with this thing). I have a corded mouse but I can't use it because I'm not left handed. All of the USB ports are on the left hand side of this device. It's something I'm trying to get used to. It's not going so well.
But, enough ranting, I'm going to try to steal some writing time while the kids are outside playing. Wish me luck.
Dear Reader
Some people can wing it and get by with out a schedule. When you're juggling running a household, a business, and your writing endeavors, winging it becomes less of an option. A schedule is a useful tool, as long as there is flexibility built into it, that can keep you moving forward with your writing. I'd post a picture of mine but the handwriting is messy and the page is just as bad. So, here for your viewing pleasure, is my schedule.
Daily Work Schedule: M-F
Dear Reader,
July is the second Camp NaNoWriMo of the year. The first is held in April. They're kinda like training for the big event in November, NaNoWriMo itself. NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month which is technically in November. The people at NaNoWriMo.com have been organizing this for years and added the two Camps for eager people who want to work on similar projects under similar conditions at other times in the year. I've been participating in NaNoWriMo now for just shy of a decade. Writing 50k words in one month is a challenge but it helps me focus to get work done. Camp NaNoWriMo is something I've tried about three times and was successful once.
They say madness is attempting the same thing over again and expecting different results, but I'm already certified as insane so it's all good, right? My plan for Camp NaNoWriMo the Second is to work on a religious book that I was attempting to write back in April when my brain was all wonky. Since it is functioning better now, I anticipate greater success. I also am changing my format from writing it out by hand to typing it. I think that will equate to bigger daily word counts and my actually finishing this project by the end of the month.
My plan for NaNoWriMo proper is to write the next book in the Umbrel Chronicles series. I am still editing book seven. Well, that's not quite accurate. Since moving everything to the thumb drive, I've a ton of manuscripts that I am searching through to find book seven so that I can finish working on it. My hope is to have it out for purchase by December. Book eight is not going to be ready until next year some time, provided my brain doesn't go explody again. Being disabled sucks, especially when it gets in the way of your plans.
I am also going to attempt, as I have during NaNoWriMo, to blog every day through the month. My posts are going to be short on some days and of average length on others. I may keep an log of my word count for people at home who want to keep score and track how fast I am writing this Lokean devotional. My unreasonable and excessive goal is to complete the day's writing goals while the kids are at summer school (which starts next Tuesday). That doesn't mean I'm not going to be working starting today. I just am hoping to get the bulk of my writing done while the boys are out of the house and not quite so distracting.
See y'all tomorrow. Now I have some journal work to do before I can bust out my manuscript attempt from April and try to make sense of where I was going with it. Then I can start working on the 'real' manuscript, if the kids let me today.
