Of course, once winter comes, so too do the winter colds. Both my little darlings are home for a couple of days and I am beginning to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous procrastination.
Of course, delaying at writing means that I spend less time working on sorting all my beads. Now that I have a new supply of dime bags [I should really stop calling them that. Besides, my new lot are half the size of your traditional Suspicious White Substance Container. What's half a dime? What's a dime in the first place? I know nothing... NOTHING!] I'm sorting out my collection of crafty scrattle into (a) baggies of 6 beads or more, and (b) baggies of less than 6 beads. I'm also swapping down to the smallest sensible container so I allegedly have more room to store shit in.
Meanwhile, I've made a healthy start with my new novel. Namely because my new editor (stackedit) doesn't have an easily-visible word count. I need a mod or a good talk with Beloved to get that up for me. I need to see how many words I've done.
Since I'm doing an old-timey style novel, I'll do the Victorian Literature thing in which each chapter has a brief summary of the goings on within it before one gets to the actual prose. It might help my word count into loftier heights than the aimed 120K, but probably not more than a few hundred.
I'm already figuring on making each chapter be 2K long, ballpark. That way there'll be sixty chapters and an easy way for me to divide everything.
I'm already slipping into the florid way of describing things. It's ludicrously easy. When in doubt, circumlocution. When positive - adjectives. And, O Powers, is it immense fun to write...
I'm loving this book already.
And since it's on the cloud, it promises to be nice and portable when ever I choose to roam somewhere. Thank you Google. Thank you Internet. Thank you, mobile mentality. And it beats the fuck out of carrying it on a thumb drive because I can't lose weeks of work by forgetting it in the wash.