better

Thanks for all the kind comments. Today I'm much better. Those nice OTC painkillers I'm taking have done wonders for the ol' mood. I no longer want to kill defenseless cartoon bunnies. (Except possibly Roger Rabbit.)

I would spend two hundred words complaining about the hassle of transferring files from old computer to new computer, except that the words "new computer" make me smile. No whining from me. The experience was relatively painless, except for the rather terrifying moment when I realized that my music files had vanished. (All nine hundred songs.) Oops. They unvanished shortly thereafter, crisis was averted, and I pried my nails out of the surface of my desk, finger by finger.

My only complaint? This afternoon, I reflected rather grimly that this time-saving new tool had effectively consumed two mornings I should have spent producing deathless prose. Then I ate some more chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream, and the grimness wore off.

later today

The laptop is beautiful, but it still needs files transferred, updates downloaded, preferences reset, and battery calibrated. It seems like a lot of work. But then, everything seems like a lot of work to me today.

I spent the morning trying to find the top-secret FedEx location, and the entire experience left me prepared to rend Directory Assistance apart with my bare hands. I was also feeling a little hostile towards other drivers, automated phone systems, the wind, streets that curve (we're in Utah, where streets aren't supposed to curve), the city planners responsible for creating a town called North Salt Lake that is not actually in Salt Lake County, and smiling people. I would have run over Thumper the rabbit if the opportunity had presented itself. Annoying little rodent.

I'm mostly better now. I don't think rabbits are really rodents, either. These scientists don't seem to think so, and they use lots of equations with mu and therefore must be trustworthy.

My new shiny computer was worth the 45 min of tracking and backtracking in the least salubrious parts of the valley. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring it to work, so I'm right back to unbridled irritation with anyone who tries to talk to me. I must be coming down with something. I've gotten quite a few of the "Wow, you look as tired as I feel," and "Are you sick?" comments. My favorite was, "My goodness, you have huge bags under your eyes." I have decided to use a healing mantra to regain inner peace. And that mantra is I'm moving out of state.

g4

I am posting from the marvelous new laptop. More to follow; right now I've got to spend some serious time playing with it.

actually working

So it's been a boring blog day. Sorry. I woke up at 7:14 and was writing by about 8:00. I took an hour off for lunch. I finished around 3:45 this afternoon.

That's a LOT of writing. Hours of revision. Nearly a thousand words. An entire new scene. Brilliant prose. Funny asides. I felt like a good writer. Chapters 5 through 7 are shaping up.

happy birthday

Happy birthday, Mom!

miracle

I had to go to the Drivers License Division this afternoon. (Sorry if you find this boring, but you're the one reading this. You may stop at any time.) The evil TSA people in the Albuquerque airport didn't give my license back, so I needed a new one.

When I got there, a miracle occurred. I discovered I was the next person in line. The guy at the desk took my application and processed it without making any unreasonable demands ("Ma'am, I need proof of residence actually signed by your congressman, not just on his letterhead.") The camera was working.

The picture was terrible, of course.

chapter six

Yup, chapter six is pretty bad. It's going to be a long day.

My window looks down on Brigham Young's grave. Today, there's a preschool visiting. The two adults are having a serious conversation. The kids are beaning each other with a soccer ball. It looks like a memorable theological experience for all.

parentheses

The cake was a success. It browned, but it wasn't ruined. That was fortunate, since Chrissie made a pork roast and saffron rice and Amanda (Jon's friend) made an excellent salad, featuring asparagus. I love asparagus. The non-ruined cake meant that I didn't look like a slacker cook. We had the variation with the coconut (highly recommended) and without any Peeps (could not bring myself to buy any until it was too late. Who spends money on those suckers?)

It was a lovely evening. Chrissie did my hair. Jon was late. I got to see Lizzie's engagement ring. (Note to self: must get dress for wedding.) We sang Happy Birthday to Gwyn and Jen, separately. Both times, we sounded really good until the third line, when we all kind of did our own thing. It's a proud family tradition.

happy easter

Happy Easter. I'm not very Easter-ish today: no frilly new dress, no basket of chocolate, and I've kept myself from buying Cadbury eggs all season. I will be going down to my sister Chrissie's place for dinner. I'm making a Peeps cake in honor of my sister Lizzie, who actually eats those vile little blobs of sugar.


Peeps Cake

CAKE

2 c flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1 c sugar
3 large eggs left at room temperature 30 min
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup whole milk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, putting the oven rack in the middle. Butter and flour two 8- or 9- inch round cake pans. (One 13' x 9' pan will also work.)

Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt into a bowl.

Beat butter and sugar with an electric mixer at medium-high until pale and fluffy, 3 to 5 min. Beat in eggs one at a time, then beat in vanilla until thoroughly blended, about 5 min. Reduce speed to low and add flour mixture and milk alternately in 3 batches, beginning and ending with flour mixture and mixing until batter is just smooth; do not overmix.

Spread batter evenly in pans. Bake until cake begins to pull away from the sides of the pans (and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, but I never have toothpicks), 20 to 25 minutes. The cake is still pale yellow; it will not brown. If it has browned, YOU RUINED IT. Oh, sorry. I get stressed when I bake. Anyway. Cool for 5 min in pans on a rack, then invert onto the rack to cool completely.


LEMON PUDDING

Make lemon pudding from one of those nice little Jell-O boxes. Overachievers may make theirs from scratch, but they are going to have to find their own recipe.


SEVEN-MINUTE FROSTING

Combine 2 large egg whites, 1 c sugar, and 1/4 c water in a metal bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water and beat with a hand-held electric mixer at low speed until mixture is warm and sugar is dissolved. Increase speed to high and beat until frosting is thick and fluffy, about 7 min. Remove from heat and beat until slightly cooled.

This frosting has a lovely marshmellowy sheen to it.


ASSEMBLY

Carefully split the cake rounds to make four thin layers. Layer the cake with lemon pudding, putting pudding on the top of the cake as well. Frost with the seven-minute frosting. If desired, sprinkle with coconut. Put lots of yellow Peeps on top.

Remove Peeps and give them to Lizzie prior to serving.

terri schiavo

Skip this if you'd like. But it expresses some of my concerns about the way the Terry Schiavo case has been decided.

• What 26 year old has put real thought into her treatment preferences in case of terminal illness? I've looked at a tired mom with triplet two-year-olds and said, "I'd rather be dead." But please don't take that as my legal preference.
  
• If the lady's dead, as her husband avers, she's beyond the point of caring whether her feeding tube is in or out. Why can't the custody of her body be turned over to her grieving parents, who care deeply?
• What would have happened if Terri Schiavo had no relatives but her husband? Would there be any legal oversight of the decision to end her life by benign neglect? Michael Schiavo's motives and actions have been thoroughly investigated in this case. But who's looking out for the rest of the people in Terri's situation? If a profiteering grandchild or an exhausted spouse chooses to allow a patient to die in order to simplify his or her life, would anybody ever know?

It's a little scary.

relaxing weekend entertainment

My mother is hunting oryx this weekend. Yes, that's right. A big-game trophy animal native to Africa, known to be "notoriously aggressive." Go, Mom!

(No safari for her. She's down near White Sands in New Mexico, a few hours from home. The animals were imported as exotics in the 1970s and have thrived in the area.)

what ever happened to instant gratification?

Marie, the laptop doesn't ship until early April. I am so depressed. We will have a party to welcome it when it comes, though.

paging everybody, actually

DC public schools need you, and they send you free books for your trouble. What's not to like?

paging sharon

NYC public schools need you.

shopping

I bought a new laptop.

I also decided that chapter six is not interesting, will never be interesting, and should probably just go away. I'll revisit that decision tomorrow to determine if I'm just pissy or if I'm right. I'm right, though.

einsteins

All the attractive men in Salt Lake City simultaneously started craving bagels at eleven this morning. They descended on the Avenues Einsteins. It was a remarkable sight, awe-inspiring, like seeing the migration of butterflies or the World's Largest Thermometer (Baker, CA). I just wish I had remembered to brush my hair before leaving the house . . . .

technical difficulties

Unable to open the attachment, it says. Probably because THE DAMNED SCREEN WON'T WORK. Or at least because it's an old computer. Maybe I will can the revision planned for this morning and go laptop-shopping instead.

chapter five

The coworkers liked chapter five, but it took them about thirty seconds to read. That's disheartening. In the end, this three years of writing will boil down into something you can pick up in Newark and finish by Los Angeles.

For $7 a cheap paperback, I hope.

maui

I have decided to go to the Maui Writers Conference in September 2006. I am not what you might call a spontaneous person. I like advance planning. Except for that fluke NYPD application thing, I'm naturally conservative. So it will take me eighteen months to become comfortable with the idea of dropping five grand on a two-week jaunt to Hawaii.

It will also take that long to save the money.

Check out the link!

cast ii

jeremy: bella's boyfriend

He is nothing but obnoxious. I don't like him very much. He annoys me as a person and infuriates me as an author. Most of the scenes he's in suck like an industrial-grade Oreck. This revision should fix that minor issue.

really really done

Oh, sooooo finished. I'm fried. I look like someone's washed my face with a Brillo pad, my eyes are bloodshot, and I can feel each individual back muscle contracting convulsively.

Only six-and-two-thirds hours until my work day is over!

But I got my chapter done.

done part two

I'm now actually finished with chapter five. Except for tomorrow's final line editing. I need to start assigning numbers to these revisions. It would give me a sense of accomplishment to know I was doing, say, the twenty-second revision. And that number is no exaggeration; I've done at least that many.

done

Finished chapter five. I'm ravenous. It's a crappy Jeremy chapter, so it needed a lot of work. It will need another polish before it's ready for consumption. I'll shower, e-mail it to myself, and take the hard copy out to lunch with me. It shouldn't be that difficult to get in readable condition.

speaking of unproductive . . .

John from downstairs just asked me out on Saturday. To see The Aviator. At 1700. Only he didn't use military time.

caffeinated

Breakfast + two loads of laundry + half a chapter = productive.
Messing around with blog = unproductive.

early

Not a good hour for those of us who work until 0100. But I promised chapter 5 to my coworkers. Maybe I will print the half chapter of line edits I have to do and take them to Einstein's. I could use a bagel and a jolt of caffeine.

MUST HAVE CHAPTER FIVE DONE BY 1400.

more distractions

That dress? For the wedding? It should really be a few sizes smaller. After all, I have two months . . . .

distractions

This business of earning a living is not all it's cracked up to be.
My current job is stressful, poorly paid, and has terrible hours. Oh, and did I mention the pending lawsuit?
My potential new job is, well, potential, and will remain that way until my top secret security clearance goes through. (No, seriously.)
My computer screen died when I spilled a quart of water on my keyboard. Technically, it happened last February. But I intend to keep on complaining about it until I buy a new laptop.
My apartment is messy. My apartment is always messy.
Blind has too many plotlines. I don't know what to kill. I don't want to deal with it.
My sister is getting married May 27th. She's my younger sister. Six years younger. Not that I'm not cool with that. But I absolutely have to have a really nice dress for the big day.

cast

me: the author
my mom: the grammar consultant
sharon: the longsuffering copy-editor (does that have a dash?)
miriam: the literary agent
bella: the protagonist
chris: the love interest
blind: the sequel

background

ECHO: Two years, 82,000 words, 317 pages, a dozen reams of paper and at least 600 Diet Cokes. (That's what my muse lives on.)

And someday, perhaps it will be a commercially-available hardcover. But not if I don't get these revisions done.