I love gardening. It does not love me. Ticks, mosquito bites, some kind of rash that’s not poison ivy, but is some kind of contact something.
I was feeling sorry for myself so I had Ben & Jerry’s for dinner, but… yeah… not a good idea, which also made me feel sorry for myself that I have to accept that the days of ice cream for dinner are over.
We did watch Robin Hood last night, which was… um… not good. It was hard to put my finger on exactly what was not good about it, but the whole movie had a “I’m at a particularly unpleasant renaissance fair” air about it. I kept wishing Russell Crow and Cate Blanchett had been in a better movie.
But still, if I had to rank movies I’ve seen lately, I’d put this behind Teeth, which was hilarious, and Scott Pilgrim,which had a good beat I could dance to.
Work on the novel is weirdly slow and fast. Things I thought would take me a long time are going okay. Things that seemed simple enough are, I’m finding, actually kind of difficult on a screen this small–I literally can’t see the spots on screen where my smart quotes are facing the wrong way, for instance.
Ha, or my eyesight is a lot worse than I want to admit. Either one.
We’re in the middle of a cicada outbreak here in Middle Tennessee, but, so far, here in Whites Creek, on this little acre, we’ve been able to count the cicadas on one hand and still have the majority of our fingers left over. I saw one on Sunday. The Butcher met one at the door last night.
I don’t know if they’re just slow to get going in our part of town or if we’re going to miss them.
I’m hoping for “miss them.”
Anyway, I’m trying not to be overly optimistic, but I think I may still meet my goal of sending out at least my first query by my birthday. We’ll see.
I just want this, folks, as much as I’ve ever wanted anything, for as long as I can remember, I have wanted this.
This is just the first time in my life–and honestly, I can’t say what changed–where it seemed plausible to me.
I know I get mushy on you guys. And frankly, you should be glad I can’t drink like I used to, because I would totally get drunk and throw my arms around you guys and tell you how much I love you, no, really, really love you, in ways that would be embarrassing and uncomfortable.
But if not for this, here, blogging, I don’t know that I would have ever gotten to this, here, novel-writing.
I really want this next part to go well.