Tuesday, Nov. 21, 2006
Tonight will be a short entry. It's chilly and I fully intend to curl up with a book and a cup of hot tea. Any further snuggling apparatus or associative persons will be top secret. (I mean, I'm sure you can't imagine who I'd be snugging with, now, can you?)
It's also been a fun day. Nah, you just imagined the sarcasm dripping in that sentence. Really.
Two more people gave notice today, both in my department. One was typing out a letter of resignation when I was there, the other had told me earlier in the day that she was out of there asap. It's not been a pretty week all around, though this time my boss could get the ax, too. He said a while back he was on final notice. This kind of exodus (almost half the department giving notice in the last two days) can't be helping his cause.
I was planning to go to the business manager to tell her that I won't be signing up for benefits, since I am not going to be here. (She brought me the paperwork yesterday morning, with the edict that it needed to be completed and turned in by tomorrow morning.) However, given that for most of the day her office was occupied by the falling of the other shoe, I figured I'd take advantage and just do my job in peace.
Worked like a charm, too.
Doing my job amid chaos doesn't faze me. It's kind of a prerequisite for news. However, it's sort of accepted that when the chaos takes direct aim at you personally, you have to turn things over to somebody else to report. Which is why I gave notice.
Anyway, my NaNoWriMo challenge is woefully short of the goal. I was shooting for 50,000 words. I'm up to 1881. No, not the year 1881. Eighteen-hundred eighty-one words. Which sucketh.
Dangerspouse suggested I cheat by pulling out and dusting off my neverending story and throw on another 5000 words to finish it, then submit.
Aside from the fact that cheating on NaNoWriMo is roughly the equivalent of cheating on Solitaire, That Damned Story (plagarized from luciab) has more holes in the plot line than a city block of Swiss cheese. It might take 5000 words to call it done and put it out of my misery, but it will by nowhere near actually done.
It's going to take me a few more decades to polish out the rough spots.
"Rough spots" being pretty much the whole story.
Though in all fairness, it's been because as I wrote (across two decades now) my vision for the story has changed. While my main characters' names and some of the storyline remained true to my shaky beginning back in the late 80's, every step of the ensuing journey has been rewritten along the way.
And of course, I have had a few distractions along the way...
I am, however, giving serious though to applying for a writer's grant. I have the information to do so. It's free money if I get my butt in gear and apply and actually receive the grant. My only serious question is - do I have the talent, stamina and determination to follow through and finish this thing, do the necessary editing, and SUBMIT the damned thing for publication?
Because if I don't have those qualifications, I don't deserve to get a grant. It should go to someone who WILL fulfill the promise of its investment.
Like Poolagirl, whose work has already proven itself.
Like cosmicrayola, who has already achieved the title of published writer.
Like all of the other people who have the self-discipline and the talent to make it happen.
In the meantime, we got another request for a website quote. If someone asks for a quote, we almost always get the job, sooner or later, and this one is probably on the "sooner" end of things.
Ack... That reminds me of the other reason I need to sign off now. I've got to do billing tonight...
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )