October 30, 2002

Blah Blah Blah

~~ This is week Number 6 for Carnival of the Vanities over at Blogcritics. Once again, Fragments is represented, hanging out our hand-carved op-ed pieces, spangly dishes of rural rhubarb and verbal canned goods for all comers to sample. Well, for at least two or three each week. Baby steps....baby steps....

~~ I joined but then, at 3:00 a.m., mentally unjoined the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) project. Objective: a 50K novel during the month of November. Sounds like a great idea, but focused on volume and word count. I think I have an idea to pursue that might generate anywhere from a 700 word 'personal reflection' to a 2500 word article to a full non-fiction book. I had better focus on that this November. Any others doing the novel writing (besides than Fran and Pasqale?)

~~ Re the efforts at 'being a writer': I am working to generate some initial 'clips' in the chicken-or-egg conundrum. Accept queries from published writers; send clips with submission. Getting those first things published seems an important first step. I am impatiently waiting for sample copies for about 10 possible consumer mags. Many writers guidelines are online, which is helpful. I am starting to think along a duel track: writing from the heart or off the top of my head like for the weblog, but also thinking, with a potential topic, where is the market for this; what word length fits requirements for which consumer magazines? I may be on the verge of having a 1200-word piece with photographs accepted. Keeping typing fingers crossed.

~~ As I write this, my daughter, grand-daughter and son-in-law are groping their way to their car in a snow storm, preparing to drive two hours to Rapid City, SD to catch the plane to Minneapolis, where he heads to NYC for a conference and they travel to Roanoke Airport to come over the river and through the woods to grandmothers house, and of course, Grampa Grumpy's too, headed back to their American Gothic roots for a long weekend visit. Son will fly down from Vermont on Friday. Another reason not to undertake writing a novel just now.

~~ Signs that it is truly mid-autumn:

  • We have eaten our last vine-ripened tomato. The green ones wrapped in newspaper will not count as garden-fresh; something is lost in the newsprint.
  • The woodstove now heats sufficiently to create that comfortable, familiar hiss of the water kettle; this will be our background white noise until April, like a heartbeat, we will soon disregard it. The drier air from the wood heat is starting to cause the heart-pine walls, floors and ceilings to shrink, and there are gaps between the planks again. The old house inhales and exhales with the changing of the season.
  • Buster finds less pleasure in lying on the rug just outside the door. We let him out, he waters the lilac and wants back in from the cold immediately. We remind him that he is a Labrador Retriever and should be well adapted to the cold. But he swears he is a unique hybrid, the Orlando Retriever, and his place is indoors, under a sunlamp if we could arrange it, please.

Posted by fred1st at October 30, 2002 07:40 AM
Comments

My lab, (Roxie, by name) hates wet grass with a passion. She will make dozens of trips to the edge of our carport before she finally decides to venture onto the damp lawn. So much for the fearless bird-dog I always dreamed of!

Posted by: ronbailey at October 30, 2002 07:59 AM

I look forward to that humorous moment every year: Alice, our German Short-haired Pointer, whines to be let out...so we open the door, she bolts out into the frigid air, hesitates for just a millisecond, then wheels right back around and bolts inside. And she's got that "I didn't have to go potty THAT bad!" look on her face.

Posted by: Curt at October 30, 2002 02:24 PM

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