The spiffy skunk calendar Matthew made for me for Christmas informs me that today is "Old Rock Day." I'm not quite sure how to properly observe that. Should I anoint an old rock with rare oils and lavish it with attention? Throw it, maybe? Offer it a cookie? How does one venerate aged petrologic entities?
I am officially sedentary (perhaps that's how one celebrates "Old Rock Day," by mimicking their behavior?) One of my preferred writing spots has, among other reference books, a dictionary within reach of the computer. I was typing along, and a word popped into my head that I was uncertain about, but wanted to use (this is not an isolated occurrence--my lexical storage and retrieval processes are a total mystery to me). I decide to look up its definition to verify it did mean what I thought it meant. Instead of stretching my arm out and flipping open the Webster's, I launched a web browser and surfed to Merriam-Webster Online because I was too lazy to reach the dictionary.
Sloth, thy name is Eugie.
In other news, I saw that Tangent is back up. It's still terribly unwell as the site is full of errors, but at least it's exhibiting signs of life. Hm, that probably means I should get to writing a review of this week's Sci-Fiction story.
Words: 1100 The huli jing story continues apace. I got stuck but hadn't gotten my 500 words for the day yet, so forced myself to keep at it. Decided to stop writing linearly and just skip scenes that weren't coming. By doing that I managed to crank out nearly 800 more words before running aground again. And I think I have a better idea of where the story's going. I still need to link the scenes I did write (and I shall probably end up not using all of them), but I managed to force my way through a stuckage. Rah.
Also came up with a good title (as opposed to the working title of "Fox Spirit") in the wee hours of the morning. It's been a day for mysterious subconscious brain functions.
Club 100 for Writers
Old Rock Day - The county where I'm from sits close to the terminal morain of the last glacier. We have sandstones the size of Buicks just strewn about the landscape. My mom's neighbors have one in their front yard. I can picture them out there bowing and pouring libations. (Maybe chanting the words to "Hey Jude.")