Added another 1007 words to The Corpse-Rat King over the weekend, breaking the magical 10K barrier and the magical 10% barrier all at the same time. On the Lee Writing Scale, I've now reached T2, which airline nuts (there must be one or two of you out there) will know as the point along the runway after which you have no choice: you have to take off. So there's no turning back: my hero Marius, his compatriot Gerd, the dead King of Scorby and I are together for the next 80K+ words whether we like it or not.
Work also continued apace on the secodn draft of the The Memory of Breathing script. I've rejigged four of the eleven scenes that need reworking, and added probably another ten minutes or so to the running time. Producer Matt (and it occurs to me that I've never linked to Enchanter Films, the production company that we're working with, so here you go) has set a deadline of the 19th November to get the draft back to him, so it's both lobes to the grindstone at the moment. once I've got the scenes rewritten I have a pile of character and plot notes to incorporate, so the next two weeks will be busy. Busy busy busy.....
So, words to date on the novel:
THE WORDS, THEY FLOW NOT SO EASILY
Anybody trying to get hold of me via email: please be patient. For reasons unknown to me, my Outlook and Norton programs aren't speaking to each other and so Outlook is refusing to work at all. I can still get to new emails via the ISP website, but it's clunky and annoying, so replies may not be as quick as usual (which is saying something, I know).
There seems to be an internal problem with Norton, but if I simply delete it and reboot from the disc I'll lose my upgrade subscription. So it'll be a few days while I contact Symantec and wait for them to tell me they don't know how to fix it, and I gather up the courage to delete everythind anyway and then abuse them until they gave me my subscription back. At least, that's today's plan... :)
THE FINCHES HAVE LANDED
So, thanks to Aiden, Lyn and I became grandparents over the weekend.
Don't panic: we're a liberal family, but we're not that liberal. Aiden finally organised to move his five finches from his Dad's house, is all. So we now have an aviary and occupants on our patio, much to the fascination of Erin and Connor. Indeed, television has been abandoned in favour of the live show.
I'm not sure how much attachment to give to these little birds, given their Daddy calls them (and I quote): "Whitecap, Big One, Little One, Birdy, and the other female."
And I thought it took us ages to come up with 'Connor'.....
YOU ARE NOT A UNIQUE SNOWFLAKE
It's my birthday on Saturday. I've treated myself to an external hard drive for the computer: when music and video files take up 70% of your memory, it's time to think about alternative storage solutions. For $150 I picked up a tiny little box that has twice the memory of the big, state-of-the-art computer I had made from scratch three eyars ago. Heh. I am Obsolete Man!
Anyway, I've always been the only person I know to be born on the 11th of November. It's just one of those days that seems to set you apart.
But would you believe it, I've discovered that not only am I not unique in regards to people I know, I'm not even unique in regards to Perth SF writers.
So Happy Birthday for Saturday to fellow 11/11 SF writer guy alumni: Perth-based Simon Haynes, and over-east based Chris Barnes.
I'm not my fucking khakis, either.....
Song of the Moment: Eleanor Rigby The Beatles
Reading: The Invisibles- the Invisible Kingdom Grant Morrison and friends