aamcnamara: (Default)
33444 / 80000


In other news, UMass cannot accommodate my food allergies. Which is fun, 'cause my two best options for a physics class this fall are a) at UMass and b) during lunchtime. I'm sure everything will work out--I am talking to the new disability services person at MHC about options--but it's kind of exhausting how things keep going wrong.

Aaand then I went to the Minnesota State Fair, where there was a plethora of gay crop art (at least one piece of it was gay videogame crop art!) and a Katniss scarecrow, and cider freezes and lemonade and roasted corn and a free a cappella concert.

And because somehow this is my life, it turned out to be library day at the State Fair. I got a temporary tattoo that says READ and a library button that says "I got carded" (I had to show my library card to get that one, and asked "which one?" because am I a total library dork? I am a total library dork). Also I scored a color-changing plastic cup that says "I'd rather be at THE LIBRARY" which is definitely going to replace my Census On Campus cup for toothbrushing. (I asked them what color it changes to, but they didn't know, because it was 90-something today and nothing was cold enough for the cup to change color. I will have to investigate.)

Maybe I should pack? I am leaving super-early on Friday morning so probably I should pack but it's possible that I will just crash early and stuff everything into my luggage tomorrow. Other than "write a thousand words and maybe type up that last Anne Conway letter" that's all I have planned, so.
aamcnamara: (Default)
It snowed yesterday, properly, enough to cover most of the grass and dead leaves. Enough to creak under my boots when we walked down to a coffee shop and heard music: a band with two teachers from my high school in it. I drank a tall mug of peppermint tea. At the set break, they came over and chatted--what am I up to, all that sort of thing.

I hope the snow doesn't melt today. It makes this city feel like winter.

I like my dad's new house. It already feels homelike. I am glad to spend this week here (I fly back to Massachusetts on Friday). Most of the people I know have gone back to school already, or are leaving today; I've enjoyed having social times, but it'll also be nice to be utterly unscheduled. People should be getting back to me on A Returning Power soon, and then I can fix things in that, and keep making sallies toward a query letter. And I can keep working on plans for my hypothetical London jaunt--I've got a goal of drafting my research proposal before I go back.

In the meantime...
boooks! )
aamcnamara: (Default)
I am back in Minnesota. There was this weird half-day starting when, flying in, I looked down and felt distant happiness at the lakes spread out underneath us: Isles, Calhoun, Harriet. It was nice seeing them, but it wasn't a lodestar sudden feeling of home. Maybe because I spent ten weeks in Boston this summer, getting to know that city. Maybe because Kate isn't here. Either way it was peculiar and disorienting in some deep way, to not instantly be at peace.

Over the next day or so, as I settled back in and walked around some, it became more familiar. More home. The lakes really are some of my favorite parts of this city--the water, the green space, the communal space. (I also got to MIA with [livejournal.com profile] aliseadae, which is one of my favorite parts about coming back to Minneapolis.)

Today I wrote the first draft of a short story. So apparently my brain is recovering. It'd been quite a while since I just sat down and wrote a draft. Possibly tomorrow I'll work on a novel. Sometimes I feel like I am always in the conscious incompetence mode of learning, in one way or another; whenever I get the hang of one thing, there are more things I ought to be doing but I know I'm not.

In other news: huge inflatable velociraptor. The Mob and I definitely need this for our apartment this semester. Or possibly my friends need to start an Inflatable Velociraptors Against Lung Cancer student org on campus--then we could get funding to buy one, put up posters telling people not to smoke near dorms (they're not supposed to but they always do, and growling at them is a very short-term solution; they go right back to smoking there later) because the velociraptor will get them, and then... velociraptor! We could leave it around at various places on campus. It would be great.

(The problem is that I do think this plan is legitimately great--people smoking too close to the dorms is a perpetual problem at MHC and inflatable velociraptor would be an entertaining way to remind them--even while I know it is terrible. But. But. Inflatable velociraptor!)
aamcnamara: (Default)
I did science research this summer to decide whether I wanted to go to grad school, and emerged thinking that I do--to get an MLIS.

Talked to people at Houghton a couple of times last week; it sounds like going into Special Collections librarianship might actually be something I could do. I have experience, so mostly I guess it's in getting the library degree and a job at a rare book room (which people seem to do concurrently). Processing, I think, is where I'd enjoy myself the most--getting to work with lots of different items all the time, but getting to work with the physical objects of the books. Either that or book conservation, which is its own entire thing. Or taking care of a smallish rare book room where I'd get to do some of all of those.

Which was all happening right as my science research program was wrapping up. Yesterday morning I uploaded all of my relevant files to the wiki, so I have discharged my obligations, taken care of my responsibilities, et cetera.

Other things I did recently include buy a copy of a Harlan Ellison book in Greek. I'm not a huge Harlan Ellison fan, but it was a dollar used and after taking Homeric Greek last year I've been wanting to try to learn a bit of modern Greek.

Today I've been writing--finished, finally, a full draft of the story that's now called "Lightening", tweaked "Katabasis" and sent it out again--and packing, sorting all the papers I've accumulated over the course of the summer. I can't believe I am leaving in two days. I can't believe the summer is almost over, either. Didn't I just get here a little while ago? In some ways I long to be back on the Mount Holyoke campus, but in other ways I want to demand another summer--one where I can relax and write more. Ah well. At least I get a couple of weeks' break in the middle, and I get to go back to Minneapolis.
aamcnamara: (Default)
Life returning to something like normality, though as I plan more outings with friends, it becomes more and more clear to me that this is markedly a visit. Not "back home for summer vacation" or anything. A couple of weeks in my city, and then off again--admittedly, to somewhere that has potential to be one of my cities as well. Still.

Anyhow, my dad and I went to see a film one of his friends made about an organic CSA farm a couple of his other friends ran for a while. It was filmed six years or so ago, and included a glimpse of sulky-teenage-me at one of the work days. Odd to see myself on screen, even if just for a second.

Yesterday I walked down to my childhood library and checked out some books. Going down the stairs to the children's department, the smell hit me--the same smell as always, and still as indescribable. The children's librarian there is still the same; she recognized me and we chatted for a minute ("I'll be twenty this summer--I'm halfway done with college, going back out to the East Coast for physics research...") and it was another strange moment, standing there holding books like I did so often as a kid, talking to the same person, smelling the same scent of the library, but... I'm not so much a kid anymore. I mean, I'm still pretty young as these things go, but soon I won't even be a teenager on technicality, and I definitely have changed since this was my primary library. Growing up is weird.

...also yesterday, I baked pumpkin muffins. Some things never change! Om nom nom.

books read )

Oh--the other thing I did yesterday was draft a short story. I love the way my brain clicks back into writer-mode when I get out of school and actually have time and brain to think about stories. I've been working on solstice stories and also the story I came up with a while ago; what I thought might be a draft of it is really only the first third, though, which I knew but didn't want to admit to myself. And I have revised a couple of scenes of A Returning Power, and have some idea of where to go next in revising, which is nice. I've been skipping around, fixing this bit, doing research on something and then going to work on those scenes with that in mind... revision is an interesting business.

The story that just kind of unspooled out of me yesterday was a Bordertown story, which... a little late now, but maybe there'll be another anthology after Welcome to Bordertown (which, by the way, I will be ALL OVER; if you are not looking at the contests and everything on their website, it is only your fault).
aamcnamara: (Default)
Somehow it turned into two days before I leave. I am not quite sure how.

I always remember, when I come back here, how much I love Minnesota and also how much I love my friends from before college. Don't get me wrong, my college friends are awesome. I adore my college friends. But sometimes I get focused on "ooo college friends woo" and forget that... really, my friends from middle- and high-school eras are fairly brilliant too.

The other bonus, of course, is that I get a bunch of really, really tasty food. Cookies; home-made bread; maple sugar candy; Bosc pears (which ought to be spelled Bosch--Garden of Earthly Pears?); candy canes; rice pasta with home-made sauce; chicken and dumplings; freshly-made pancakes; bacon; really good orange juice; gravy, gravy, gravy; yams baked with marshmallows and brown sugar on top; ...well. Et cetera.

Which is good because it is delicious, and is also good because in my parents' houses, there's a kind of attitude of "limitations? What limitations?" In my parents' houses, what I eat does not approximate normal food; it is normal food.

Which is why I am looking forward (oh I am looking forward) to the day when I have a place of my own, when I can go out and buy food and stock a kitchen and make whatever I want for myself. Tasty things. Things I want to eat. It will be a glorious day.

For now, I am just trying to savor the moments (and the meals) before I head back to Massachusetts, to campus, and a return to what now counts as my usual life. I am looking forward to going back to campus, don't get me wrong. I just know that the food won't be quite as good. Oh well.

(Getting closer to submitting the physics research applications. These make me more nervous than many things, so it may take a bit of a push for me to actually send them in... fortunately I do have some time before the deadlines arrive.)
aamcnamara: (Default)
After writing a very odd post on my stopover in Chicago on the way here, I deleted it, and henceforth got distracted by home and Christmas and family and books and friends and being back in Minneapolis/St. Paul and winter and so on.

(Minnesota has snow. Minnesota has lots of snow. It was a little unpleasant yesterday, when it started raining and there was damp and wet and slush everywhere, but what can you do? And at least it still looks like proper winter outside.)


excessive description of my journey )


Brief summary of books so far this break:
Freedom and Necessity, Bull and Brust, on the train, a reread: still excellent. Good train reading--long and dense enough to occupy my head for a while, compact enough to put in luggage.
A Fine and Private Place, Beagle: [livejournal.com profile] vcmw gave this to me a while ago and I kept forgetting to read it. I finally did! It was not quite what I had been expecting--to be fair I think I was expecting Spoon River Anthology by way of Peter S. Beagle, and it was not that. But it was interesting, and the voices (particularly the New York accent) quite distinctive.
The Well-Dressed Gentleman's Pocket Guide: A gift from my sister. A quote: "Instinctively, the gentleman craves a hat." Details on various kinds of coats, hats, etc; diagrams of several methods of folding one's handkerchief or tying one's tie. Lovely.
Fun Home, Bechdel: A friend was getting rid of this, so I nabbed it. I'd read it before, but didn't remember many details. Elegiac.
Mythic Delirium, Issue 23: In progress--I am a slow reader of poetry. [livejournal.com profile] aliseadae has a poem in this one, which is really the reason I got it (see: do not read much poetry), but the other poems are lovely as well! And a couple of other people I know in here too, which is neat.

I also got copies of Gaudy Night and The Jewel-Hinged Jaw for Christmas, which I haven't started rereading yet but certainly will at some point.


Other than that (and finishing the solstice stories left over from 2009, which I did on the train) I have been fairly useless this break. This is okay, I think. That is sort of what breaks are meant for. (I just feel like I ought to be writing oodles of novels because I am me.)

But I started compiling my resume for physics-research applications yesterday. And today I did a copy of the second (first and a half) draft of A Returning Power to edit, and renumbered all the scenes in order so they no longer go 8.5 10 9 12/11 10.1 (my numbering system was based off an outline I did before I started the redraft).

And somewhere in there it became almost 2011. Which is just strange. But here we are.
aamcnamara: (Default)
So I'm leaving tomorrow.

...goodness, it looks terribly official typed out like that.

I am mostly packed. At one point in the past couple of days I was tempted toward "I have so many THINGS!" but managed to lure myself back into "I don't have that many things, it just looks like a lot because they are all on the floor of my not-so-large room at the same time", which was good and also true.

It makes me slightly wistful to realize that I know precisely how much room my life takes up: the suitcase, the duffel bags, the box of books-and-tea, the box of teaset. (And the huge wall of bookshelves, but that's not quite a part of my-life so much as something I've put down for a while and will pick up again later.)

I've been doing the Farewells thing recently. I got to know more people this summer than I'd realized--the janitor I greeted every morning on my way into the archives, the woman I said good morning to at the bus stop, my co-workers and "boss"es at my library-volunteering positions... Apart from that, I've been biking around the lake or walking through the Nicollet Mall farmers' market thinking, "This might be the last time I do this for quite a while--"

Part of it, of course, is that ideally next summer I'll have some kind of job/internship/research and won't necessarily be in Minnesota for the whole time. I won't have time to see new bits of the city like I have been this summer, casually set up hanging-out times and bike or bus over to them... so I'm not really just saying goodbye to the city until winter break; I might be saying goodbye to spending long stretches of time here in general.

Unless I move back here after college. Which is always possible.

In the meantime, I have plenty of little tasks to occupy my attention. One of this afternoon's was getting a new tiny notebook ready to be carried in my purse. I transferred all the Important Information from the old one; I engaged in a brief moment of detective work to figure out when I started carrying the last one; and I put, "Fall 2010 - " on the inside cover of the new one.

In many areas of my life, I am not this organized, because I don't need to be. In my errata-notebooks, the to-do lists, directions I scribbled off google maps, and random phone numbers without names are interspersed with panel notes from a con are interspersed with story ideas. If I don't put dates inside the cover, I would never find anything.

Tomorrow. It's starting to seem real. Tomorrow.
aamcnamara: (Default)
338 / 350

I want to be done with this novel so badly that I keep rushing the pace accidentally. This is bad. Slowing myself down = in some ways, pacing the writing of it out. So this is going to be good for tonight. I have... some time, at least, to take with this.

In the archives, I got into 1907. I am going to rather miss this job--okay, it can get a little tedious, just cartoon after cartoon after cartoon, but I won't get the tidbits of history. Particularly Minnesotan history, like "Fish" Jones who started a fish stall in the downtown Minneapolis market.

He bought a front-page ad in the paper, a picture of him with oysters for wings. With the money he made from the fish business, he bought some animals--a tiger, I think, and a camel and a bear, and some other things--and started a zoo. When the neighbors complained, he sold the land (they built Basilica cathedral where I had some high school choir concerts, this grand huge thing with lovely acoustics, on the spot) and moved out to Minnehaha Creek and built a sort-of mansion there to keep all his animals.

You can't make this stuff up. Or, well, you could, but no one would believe it.
aamcnamara: (Default)
1. I biked a couple of miles to renew my permit today before I realized that license centers are closed on Saturdays. Now I know! At least I then was pretty close to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription, so I'm calling that a general win.

2. I read A Degree of Mastery, which is... narrative non-fiction, I guess, about book restoration/conservation. It was a fairly slight book, a bit about the author's relationship with her mentor and a bit about the actual techniques of book conservation and not a ton about anything, but enough to make me long for my rare book room again. Thought process basically: Ooo, pretty books. I miss working with my pretty old books. I would love to learn how to restore/conserve books. I wonder if UMass Amherst has any programs... something to look into, anyway. (A quick search indicates, Not really. Oh well. Someday!)

(edit: Hey, there is a book conservator in the Pioneer Valley, though! Neat. No, I'm not plotting anything...)(edit: Or this. The power of the Internet!)

3. Later on, I briefly attended this event Red Bull was hosting, where (apparently) people had built contraptions to sit in, perhaps intended to glide, which were propelled off a 30-foot platform into the river. By "attended" I mean stood on a bridge far enough away that you had to squint to see the contraptions themselves. It was interesting, though, to watch the trajectories of their nosedives. (And to see the vast crowds of people down by the river itself. Sheesh.)

4. An art car parade happened around Lake Harriet this evening. It was short, but all the cars (and decorated bicycles, and various other vehicles) were pretty awesome. Led by a motorized couch, it moved slowly enough that my sister and I could race around behind the bandshell and catch up to see most of it again.

5. The Blue Phoenix Circus Troupe has a show--well, will have had a show, after tomorrow (3 pm, I think, is the last performance)--called Between Earth and Sky, which I attended after the art car parade. Aerial arts are one of the things that can nearly always make me catch my breath, and especially in such a small space (it was at the Old Arizona, 28th and Nicollet).

Every time, the strength and the elegance get me. That, and the way that they throw themselves, like they don't care if they fall, and the way that they always catch in time. Even when it looks like they're slipping, even when they twirl in the air, the other person's hands are just exactly in the right place at the right time. And then they come out of it to balance impossibly--on a trapeze, on silks, on someone else's hands or feet or chest.

Every time, I say.
aamcnamara: (Default)
288 / 350

Back to The Urban Fantasy Novel! Hooray! This was all today. End of chapter 32, part of 33. (They're, um, shortish chapters.)

(I also wrote a bit more on the story I started a couple of days ago with those sixty-four words. Currently... 211? Or so?)

I seem to have a penchant for big climactic magical duels. This will probably turn out to be important in my life somehow.

Today I gave a copy of The Last Unicorn as a present: birthday, graduation, going-off-to-college combination. It's a good leaving-home book, I think. The only problem with giving it is, I don't own a copy so I kept wanting to just sit down and read it instead of wrapping it up. Oh well.

One of the things I've been enjoying this summer is taking the buses. They don't always go exactly where I want them to, but I can do a fairly good approximation of most places--and they don't always go exactly when I want them to, but that means I have a little extra time before things, to wander and explore in places a bit too far from home for me to go there offhand.

So this afternoon I got to sit under a Minnehaha Creek bridge for a while, watching the water and pretending to write. Going over the bridge, it was as wide as a usual road, fairly anonymous pavement--but underneath it, the ground was all sand and dirt, rocks leading down to the water, the sort of place a troll might live, and looking out a hazy golden afternoon, the only motion from insects and little birds and the ripples of the creek as it rolled by. Just--lovely.
aamcnamara: (Default)
Since I keep forgetting to write about these, here's a quick summary of my last few evenings.

Friday: an event at the Bedlam Theater, which started at nine and which we didn't stay for the main act of--I was tired, and still not really moved between houses--but what we did see was kind of neat. A cellist opened; Open Eye Theater had a puppetry wagon, with little bells and doors all over and things that rotated and opened and spit water at the audience... it was a bit hard to see the puppets from our distance, but their bit was still entertaining.

Then there was a multimedia part: one screen had a digital projector, and then a film/slide projector went onto a folding paper screen behind a guitarist. The contrast in illumination between the two projectors was amazing--the digital projector's image was bright and jarring, while the slide projector gave these clear, warm gems.

On Saturday, there was a Park Square Theater production of a pastiche play, Sherlock Holmes and the Jersey Lily. From the blurb, I acquired only two phrases: "Sherlock Holmes" and "Oscar Wilde". To my eternal and undying disappointment, they put Oscar Wilde in as the foppish comic relief, Gay Best Friend character. I'm still not certain how you can do that, but they did. (Delivery resembled nothing so much as the Sassy Gay Friend sketches on Youtube, if you're wondering.)

The play itself was amusing enough--disguises, mistaken identity, very silly plots, an epee duel between Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty (unfortunately, similarly neater in concept than execution, at least to my modern-fencing-trained eyes), some Shakespeare (ditto above, in some regards)--but I never could quite get over how they used Oscar Wilde.

At any rate, part of why I like being back in the Cities for the summer is all the theater, so: yay. (They gave Wilde very nice clothes, possibly as compensation, so there's that. And Holmes's study had an astrolabe-type instrument I wished to purloin.)

Last night, being the fourth of July, there were fireworks above the river. It was the first time I'd actually been down to them--some of my high school friends were going--and they were very passable fireworks, sparkling and thumping satisfyingly under my collarbone and leaving drifting octopi of smoke behind them in the sky. I can take or leave the fourth of July as a holiday, but I enjoy fireworks.

So this morning was raspberry pancakes and laundry, that being about all my brain has been up to. Whether I get anything done on writing in the rest of today is up in the air for right now.
aamcnamara: (Default)
...I got home okay. I've occupying myself for the past week by reading books, wandering around lakes (with shoes or not, on a bike or not), going to graduation events for my sister, writing letters, and (the past two days) being ill.

Despite sickness, I have been doing things like bike over to visit my old high school and take the bus down to the volunteer orientation at the library. I'm not quite sure why, except that it always seems like a good idea at the time--prior commitment, and I go "well, I'm not that sick..." and pull myself out the door.

Now, though, I fully intend to convalesce. Eat strawberries, drink tea. Lie about, watch TV on the internet, work on stories.

Speaking of which, I've wandered out a few more pages on The Urban Fantasy Novel:

85 / 350

I think I need to let go of my "it must be perfect the first time around!" thing and just go with it. Rough draft, right? Maybe if I don't write it with intricate care the first time it'll be easier to pull it apart for revisions. Or... something.
aamcnamara: (Default)
Through the magic of Bradley airport's free wifi (which usually is terrible and today is less terrible, yay!) I am posting.

Basically: Maple syrup got poured on glasses of ice and eaten. I packed everything ever. My roommate-to-be made me watch The Avengers. I said goodbye to some people. I forgot to say goodbye to others. My room looked very empty when I left it for the last time.

Or, in shorter form, hooray, I am on my way back to Minnesota!

(Also boo, I won't see college people for three months. But I am trying to be positive.)

And now I will attempt to pretend the internet does not exist and get some writing done.
aamcnamara: (Default)
The last part of my winter break was wholly unproductive--I alternated sitting around reading books and hanging out with friends. Only being back for two weeks means that I definitely failed at seeing everyone, but I got to see quite a few people, which was good. Hit most of my Twin Cities highlights, too: Como Park Conservatory, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Walker Art Center, three or four different libraries...

Kinds of cookies devoured: 4 (sugar cookie cut-outs, pumpkin with cranberries, molasses, oatmeal-raisin)
Kinds of bread devoured: 2 (Stollen, cornbread)
Candy canes devoured: 12?
Books read: a bunch
Tiny oranges devoured: too many to count

Soon I will be headed back to campus for J-term. My writing goals for the next few weeks include:
- write some more solstice stories
- keep working on the first draft of The Urban Fantasy Novel
- print out "As Large As Alone" and go over the beginning with a fine-toothed comb
- for my J-term class (GLBT content in children's and YA lit), write a final project--possibly the first chapter of a YA GLBT novel.

Other activities will include Having fun and Working at my awesome job.
aamcnamara: (Default)
Survived the flight! I love airplanes--the takeoff especially, but also what you can see out the window. The sun had set by the time we got off the ground, and the sky was clear, so for most of the trip the little glittering galaxies of lights were strung out below us. Minnesota was overcast. We dove through layer after layer of clouds, plunging through with the winglights flashing alarmingly bright white and red. And then we were down, and through, and the Cities lay beneath us, smooth white fields of lakes and the dark shapes of trees, and the soft glow of Christmas lights under snow.

I wrote about 1400 words while in airports and en route, despite the plethora of children. ("Minute 32. They have me surrounded on all sides. I am trapped against this window. Flight attendants' offers of pretzels to placate children not stopping the screams. But who will placate me?") So that's 11.4k, and eventually I really will get a wordcount meter.

Minnesota has snow, real snow. It looks like winter here. Today I'm going out present-shopping, and hopefully will return laden with all sorts of things to hide in my wardrobe and wrap in newspapers.

If I can swing it, I also want to go by the library or a bookstore--I'm taking a J-term class on GLBT content in children's and YA literature, and they've given us the list of readings, which basically reads like a list of things I've vaguely wanted to buy for the past few years except with more picture books. (Which is why library. As cool as Heather Has Two Mommies is, I don't think I need to own it.) A couple of things might be difficult to find, but I can always order them online; I just want to get a head start.
aamcnamara: (window)
I have been thoroughly convinced that I ought to print my novel out before I try to rewrite it. I have not yet actually printed it out, mostly from hesitating before the sheer size of the undertaking. I have to figure out when no one is likely to be using the printer for about an hour, haul my ream of paper down there... Probably the sensible solution would be to nip down and print out a chapter at a time or so, so of course I haven't even considered that option.

In the meantime, while I fret about printing out my novel, I decided I ought to work on something else, and promptly didn't do anything on anything for a week and a half. This morning, though, I was thinking about what the sort-of novel-in-progress needs, and came to a Realization. So that was good. I may actually be able to take it somewhere now.

(If you're curious, the solution was more cute girls.)

Unrelatedly, I got to come home for Thanksgiving. I like this for many reasons, one of which is that the dining service at college, though awesome and amazing, does not do me baked goods and my parents do. The weather cooperatively become November-like just for me on Wednesday when I flew in. Today it was nice out again, though, so I walked to Uptown and purchased presents, and that is all I am going to say about that. (Also a book which I probably will just keep for myself. I clearly should have left more room in my suitcase flying out.)

Now I get a quiet evening, which I might just use to work on the novel-in-progress. Okay, okay, Thanksgiving, holidays, hanging out with my family--but on the other hand, time and a room to myself (I am not sure I am built for constantly sharing space) and all the books I didn't take to college.

(Edited to add, page/word count: currently at 25 pages, 6240 words.)
aamcnamara: (railway)
Suddenly that plane on Thursday morning looks so close.

I spent the weekend doing non-writing and non-packing things: I moved about 400 books from my mom's house to my dad's house; my room at my dad's house suddenly looks a lot smaller and my room at my mom's house a lot bigger with vast echoing white spaces. I had dinner with relatives. I read the rest of The Pinhoe Egg and the rest of Magicians of Caprona. I went to the Minnesota State Fair, drank lemonade and cider and rode solemnly around on the carousel.

Today I have to do more non-writing and non-packing things, i.e. go to the dentist, but plan to get back to packing (also writing) later on.

Waugh. College.

Because you all are kind and helpful people, please tell me in comments what I am forgetting to pack (pictures of my city and/or family? A knife? Jewels to drip glittering from my wrists on the ballroom floor? Wait, no, that's all mixed up with pumpkins and mice somehow), and/or something to remember about college, in college, etc.
aamcnamara: (alena)
77919 / 80000

I need sleep. Maybe I will finish the draft tomorrow, and maybe I will not.

Today was a very excellent day. This made it harder to write when I finally did get home and sat down, because my head was full of that excellence and not of the novel. So I wrote a draft LJ post to get the excellence out of my head so I could write the novel. Because I have nowhere better to save it, it's going here, under an LJ cut.

What I wrote earlier tonight )

May 2017



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