Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #24

Having finished the rewrites, I did start typing up, but I also used the weed whacker on my entire lawn because I “let the pollinators” have it. So my arms were absolutely borked for about three days. I did very little typing. My goal is to have everything typed up by midmonth, and then do a typo run because my god damn you wouldn’t even believe I know how to type. The worst one is eyes. I’m always typing eeys. Who is that, me? Who is that? Why do you insist upon that which cannot be insisted upon?

Anyway, yes, so I’m doing writing stuff. I mentioned I was going to beta for someone, and I did start this. I backed out, however, because I don’t think my insight will offer much. It’s not a story I typically read, and while I don’t usually back away from such a project, this one felt a bit like I’d be playing a bit of Marco Polo with myself, so I respectfully stepped away.

I also have my first DNF of the year for books I’m reading. One of my bingo board books, which is one I’ve tried to read many, many times, but it just feels less like a cohesive book and more like a person climbing over the counter while you’re trying to pour them a glass of milk, and they need you to see this rock RIGHT NOW or else. It’s a non-fiction, which I am trying to read more of, but this one was a no from me, dawg. Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer, and if you’re a long time listener of the blog, you’ll recognize that name as someone I’ve mentioned as a favorite. Well, his approach to non-fiction left a lot to be desired for me. I’ve been vegetarian for ten years now, and yes, when this book was published, factory farming was less talked about in larger conversations. So, perhaps it’s not a timeless kind of book. I often say I’m a cool vegetarian because I don’t judge people for how they eat. I have known food insecurity more than once in my lifetime, so I’m not about to say “you can’t eat that!” Especially nowadays? Goodness, have you seen the cost of broccoli?

But that’s my point. When we got so concerned over other people’s bodies, I’ll never know, but it’s kind of creepy and a bit weird, to be real frankfurter (the lightlife brand veggie dogs are decent. not perfect! but decent). I have been of the mindset lately that we should be much less eager to share everything. I say while writing a blog post. But I’m not giving you details about extremely personal bodily functions, or what … other things. Yeah, I want to go back to being quiet. Making sure my words have a purpose before I use them.

I had something else to talk about, but fuck if I remember what that was (the word fuck always has a purpose). I’m going to type now, though, with my non-borked arms. I hope you are–WAIT. I remember. I was going to tell you what I am reading now instead of the myeh myeh book. Two from my bingo board, and one from an excursion with a friend. The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver, The Monkey Wrench Gang by Edward Abbey, and Mule Boy by Andrew Krivak. Mule Boy is a trip down McCarthy lane because it’s all one sentence and there are probably a thousand commas before you get to page 30. But it’s an interesting concept, and I’m finding the rhythm of it, much like I do when I read McCarthy.

And now, I’m done. Thank you for sticking around. I hope you’re well, and I hope your words are never ordinary because you, my darling, are extraordinary. Look at ya. Would ya just look at ya. Stunnin’.

Until next time, friends.

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #23

Who’s your favorite Disney princess? If you say anyone other than Joanna from Rescuers Down Under, we need to talk further. Always herself, obsessed to the point of trouble, accidentally helpful, and a lizard. What else do you need for a role model as a child?

I’m a bit sleep deprived. I finished my content rewrites last night and then stayed up reading until about nine this morning. I slept for about two hours before an appointment and now I’m getting ready to start typing up the second half of the book I left so kindly for myself to do. Every time, you know? Every time I say “oh, I won’t leave the whole book for me to type this time.”

And yet, here we are. Currently, the book sits at 45k something. I basically rewrote the entire second half of the book, which I had a feeling I would do since I changed a bit of a setting. “A bit” like I didn’t change the entire heckin’ biome.

I’m reading, as well. And on Monday (tomorrow, me. wait no. today is saturday) I’m going to start beta reading for someone. Take a break and let Lazarus sit for a bit while I focus on something other than Frankie and her sadness.

The sun is out today, and my car was hot when I got into it after my appointment. This is my least favorite season. I like the nostalgia of summer, but the heat makes me want to peel my skin off layer by layer. I’m not a kind person when I’m sweaty and uncomfy.

What was I talking about? Oh, right. I’m going to get typing now. My dad has a play this evening that I’m going to, and then I’m going to do a big ol’ fuck you clean to my depression shrine that’s been existing for a while.

I’m ashamed of it, but it’s hard to keep up with the sad when all you want is a bagel and you don’t have any clean plates because you don’t buy paper for the environment. I did get paper towels for my most recent tattoo (so I wouldn’t get my plasma goo on the towels, even though that’s what they’re for) for sanitation purposes, so I’ve been using them as temporary plates.

Are we temporary? I guess so. We like to think there’s a bit of infinity within our carbon, but sometimes the infinite and finiteness dance too darkly, and we forget that dust is what we are.

Mmmmm, we’ve hit the sleepy rambles. Maybe I shouldn’t type up today. Hah, nah. I don’t want to be responsible yet. So, chapter fifteen here I come, baby!

Until next time, friends. May your plates be clean and your socks be dry. Watch out for them there puddles, babes. Pretend I winked here. I can’t actually wink in real life unless I think reeeeeally hard about it. So I guess I just blinked at you.

….fuckin’ hell

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #21

Morning!

Nope. It’s after noon now.

Whatever time it is, I hope it’s well for you.

What have I been doing? Well, I’ve been putting the edits into a second content draft. That will probably be revised, parts rewritten soon. But I’m finding out more things about Milton Fogg that are just diabolical, as the children would say these days. I kind of hate him. But in that “he’s so bad he’s good” kind of way. I’d go on, but I don’t want to spoil things. I also am biased, so maybe he’s not that deep of a character. We’ll find out.

I’ve been doing a shiiiiiiiiiiiit ton of work on the language. Found a new phrase the Moarteans use. If they’re startled or uneasy about something, they say “the hair of my stomach is bad” or “hair of my stomach!”

somsuk res xixba-mi

They also, when greeting people formally, will say “Are you well?” if it’s someone they respect, or just, “You are well,” if it’s someone they want to have a quick interaction with. It’s not fully disrespectful, but it is barely polite if you are told you’re well instead of being asked if you are.

These creatures and their social niceties, haha.

There’s a phrase they use that’s an insult that I just love. It’s essentially “lick death” but the literal translation is “use your tongue on death.”

bren ostipa-ti kil moartea.

Sometimes I find myself talking to my brain in Moartean and I look at where I’ve been and where I’ve gotten to and I have this moment of “oh shit.”

Saw a reel from Steve himself, the Blues Clues Steve, and the question was “What are you most proud of?” and my answer is two-fold. First, I stayed and I’ve gotten to see my brother be a dad. His kids are perfect. I know all aunts say that about their nieces and nephews, but if I could show you just how bright my life is because I’ve gotten to see a person grow into who they are, because my brother is the man he is, I would give that to you.

But then take it back because it’s mine, ha.

The second part of that answer to Steve’s question is: I am proud of my words. The ones I toss together in books, but especially the ones I’ve made up. I’m obsessed with words. I love them with so much of my heart sometimes I forget to exist outside of them.

But that’s what nieces and nephews are for. To keep us real. To keep us from getting too far away from ourselves.

I hope you are doing well. I hope your words are friendly, and if they’re not, shape ’em up, yo. They belong to you. You belong to them. It’s a dichotomy of osmosis. Or some shit. I don’t know, wanted to be pretentious at the end here.

I’m grateful to you. For reading my words whenever I drop them here. Like little crumbs of my consciousness. Glimpses into the maze of TV static that is my mind. It’s not always awful in there. I do spend quite a bit of time in it, so I’ve found some nifty things along the way.

Feel the wind today. Let it lift your face to the sky and you smile at it. Give those clouds, the sun, the rain, whatever! Give it a smile and let it warm you even if it’s cold out. You are just as much a gift to it as it is to you.

Until next time, friends.

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal # 20

Well, well, well. We meet again. Hello.

I’m buried in edit mode, and I’ve been basically rewriting the whole thing. But that’s how edits usually go, right? It’s not the whole thing, I’m not that bad of a writer. But there are definitely spots that need some expansion. I’ve added about three hundred words so far, which sounds like I’ve not made much progress, but the way I’ve rearranged sentences and removed others entirely, it feels good.

I don’t really have much to talk about this round. I’m going to try and get back into reading a bit more now. Had a weekend of books, some gifted, some I spent too much money on. All adventures I look forward to eventually.

I hope you’re doing well. Maybe next time I’ll talk about how I find little pieces of real life to stick into my main character’s life. Scenes along a road. Drifting in limbo of a sort.

Until next time, friends.

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #19

Hi, hello. I’m running behind and I have to get ready to leave for work in … now. But I wanted to put some thoughts down before I go too far away from them. I’m working on the edits for Lazarus. I keep calling it Lasagna in my head, so that’s fun. I’m also embarking on a more serious dive into the language creation aspect of my series, and I’m really quite excited about it. I have some regret in publishing the prophecy as it appears in Fulcrum, because I’ve had some understandings about the language that can’t be undone, BUT there’s a possibility I can maybe stretch things a bit depending on what words I already have and so on and so forth.

That’s all for right now. Short and sweet, and now I leave you with the idea of a good time.

Until next time, friends!

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #17

I’m not writing! I swear it on the precious.

I’m just typing up what I wrote last so it’s on official printed out copy. I started a hard sci-fi novel that I’m not sure how I’ll do with writing it because I know nothing about space past the stars are pretty, but maybe if I focus on the plot more so than the setting, it’ll be … not easier to write, but it’ll be more cohesive, I guess. I don’t know the word I want.

Anyway, yeah. Not writing directly, although I’m excited about next year’s prospects with all the projects. I think I want to get a full draft of this novel, and then I think it’ll be about time to get Lazarus Rising published, and I also might get my short stories collected in such a way I can put them out, too.

Planning forever, that’s me.

Short entry this week, as I’m not actively writing. I say like I’m not actively writing. I’ve had some kind of illness for the last week or so and it’s been just a delight. It’s not the vid, all tests said no. I think it’s a pretty hefty chest infection though. Me lungs are gooey, cap’n.

Cough medicine makes me delirious. Okay, I’m done now. Have a good week, many joys and salutations to you and your words. I hope you’re well.

Until next time, friends.

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #16

Hi, hello. Hey.

Cool news! I finished my November Writing Thing literally a few moments ago. My final word count (out of 15k) was 15,041. So, solid success. I think it could be edited into something rather decent and kind to the characters, but for now! I’ve finished with writing for the year.

Yes, that’s right. I’m not going to write anything else the rest of the year. I’m pinky promising myself because I need to take a break. And it’s only a month. I can do a month, right?

I’m going to post stuff in December, don’t worry. I’m not abandoning you yet. I’m compiling a list of my favorite books this year and I’ll do a post similar to how I ended last year, with a “this is what I liked the most!” I’d originally thought the list wouldn’t be that long because I thought I didn’t read that many, but joke’s on me, I am almost in the 70s. Again, most of those are romance novels because my brain needs to shut off a lot, but I think I’ve hit my quota of those for the year and the rest of the reading I do will be stuff from my actual REAL LIFE TBR. Shelf books. Stuff I picked up because I thought it was cute.

So yeah. I accomplished the thing. I hope you’re doing well and I hope your words find you when you least expect them, but not while on the toilet. That’s a bit awkward.

Until next time, friends! ❤

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

How Do People Do This?

I received the author copies of Daisy I ordered, and I opened the box a little too enthusiastically. Holding copies of my books in my hands is such a strange feeling. Strange because I think it might be pride, and I’ve never really allowed myself to feel that before. I did just find a typo in it, but ya know what? I don’t give a fuck. This book I put together entirely by myself, and I’m not perfect.

When I was first working on Fulcrum, I didn’t have a printer that functioned, so I asked my mother if I could use hers. She agreed, and I printed out around 70 pages of the first “real” draft of Fulcrum I felt was actually going somewhere. I was holding it in my hands, staring down at the words, and I kind of said to myself, “I wrote this.” Then, I smiled and I looked up at her and I said a little louder, “I wrote this!”

“And I printed it!”

Instant deflation. I couldn’t have one thing for myself. One of the few times I allowed myself to feel pride, and she ripped it away from me.

Not anymore, though. I’m trying to give myself the gift of being proud of myself for the things I accomplish, and typos or not, I am proud of Daisy. I know I wrote about how it was a struggle to get this one done, and I’m not trying to say it wasn’t, that the end product is overwriting (hah, get it?) the struggle to get here. But I think I figured out why it was such a challenge for me to finish this one.

Ellie’s story is deeply personal to me. Author inserts and all, setting that aside, I understood her character in a way I don’t understand the others I love dearly. I’ll never be a chosen one, bound by destiny to save the world like Frankie, but I have been an abused child. I still have this lingering feeling of “don’t tell people, they don’t need to know. Don’t tell them so they know what she’s really like. Let them love her as she wants to be seen.”

I still love my mom. I love her painfully. It’s painful because I see mothers behaving and being the way I wish mine had. I accept her as she is, I accept that we will never have what I need from her. But no one can ever say I don’t love her.

Maybe it’s because this is exactly a year after the last big holiday I saw her that I’m feeling really sentimental, and seeing a finished book about a character I actually was is unleashing grief I refuse to feel. Or maybe it’s the insomnia that’s got me by the balls, leaving me overly sensitive to big feelings because of sleep deprivation. I don’t know.

But what I do know is how very proud of myself I am for telling Ellie’s story, and giving her a place to exist in the world. I don’t ever promote my shit, much to the befuddlement of others, but I’m of the mind that my words will find those they’re meant to. Ellie is probably the truest character to my heart, and I feel kind of like a parent watching her kid go to school on the first day of kindergarten. Out into the world to become herself. Be what she wants to be.

I’m rambling. I’m tired. It’s a holiday, and I am grateful for you. Thank you for reading my wombles. Thank you for being part of the world at the same time as me, because you make it just as neato as I do.

Until next time, friends.

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #15

Another short update this week.

I’ve released Daisy into the wild. It’s listed on my publications page if you wanna see the final cover and stuff. I’m very much a minimalist when it comes to cover design, and this one is definitely minimal. There’s no summary on the back, and the front is just a flower and the words “a novel” centered on it. The title and my name are on the spine, so it’s not like… a complete mystery. But yeah. Daisy is done.

My November Writing Thing is currently at …. some number of words. I’m 293 away from my goal for this week. I’m contemplating letting myself miss goal since I was working on getting Daisy finished up. I can make it up easily, too. I’m a little less than halfway through to my final word count goal, and I don’t know where I’m trying to go with it entirely. But that’s the beauty of storytelling. It gets figured out along the way.

I’ve decided after I finish writing this piece (currently titled Simon Says), I’m going to gently encourage myself to take a break from writing. I don’t know how well that will go because I must always be giving the world words, but as I’ve finished up my Daisy work, I’ve come to realize I devote a lot of physical energy to a book and I don’t really ever tell myself to slow down.

I have a folder of short story ideas that I’m looking forward to getting into for next year, and then of course there’s the third book of the Maker series, Lazarus Rising. That’s going to be a fun time. I mean that. I kind of went through the first draft a bit, about halfway through for some random edits, and I genuinely enjoy being in that story. It’s a home I created for myself, I think. If I could live in Lazarus, my goodness. It’s one of those situations I wish I could link up my brain to a visualizer and show you what it looks like in each of the cities so you could see it the way I do.

But therein lies the other joy of storytelling. I get to show you with my words.

I had something else to talk about, but I’m currently working on typing something up for a friend, and my wrists are a little sore–OH! Instead of writing the rest of the year, I’m going to be reading. I have two books I want to finish before the end of the year, and then whatever else I happen to come across on my shelves will be a delight. I don’t remember what my current total read is for the moment, but I’ll do a “books of the year” post either at the end of December or the beginning of January.

So, this isn’t a short update, but I got a little sentimental, I suppose. I was thinking about how I made a promise to myself to utilize this website more and I think I’ve done so. It’s been nice to put my thoughts somewhere I know someone might see them. I appreciate the readers I have, and I appreciate the consistency in which y’all see the innards of me noggin.

And with that, I sign off for now. It’s not the end of the posts for this year, but it might be the end of the posts for November. We’ll find out! I hope you’re well. I hope your words taste good, and I hope you remember it’s never too late to tell a story.

Until next time, friends.

Salisbury.Fake Weekly Update, writing

Writing Journal #14

Good morning! Wait, no. It’s afternoon. Good afternoon!

I’m almost done with my proof copy edits, and that’s been a delight. I think from now on I’ll order a proof so I can make final changes seeing it in book form. Once I get those edits done, I’ll fix them in the final document and upload and everything will be ready for publishing. Woo!

I’m a bit over 4600 words into my 15k project for this month. I’m looking forward to seeing where it all goes.

Short and sweet this week, as I wrap up my last day of time off for the year. I don’t necessarily want to go back to work, but as I am not independently wealthy, the mortgage must be paid.

Until next time, friends.