partlyopenbook: (strong)
A follow-up to the previous post, about how many books I'm reading at one time, and what sort of challenge it would be to read everything on the list.

I listed nine books that I am reading intermittently... and it was actually ten. I forgot Mrs Dalloway. My apologies, Clarissa, Virginia. 

DONE
The Reverberator, 7/28
Mrs Dalloway, 8/9

REMAINING
Muddle Earth
The Sea, the Sea
The Wings of the Dove
The Little Minister
Rogue One
The Templar Legacy
Down the Garden Path
Blonde

Blonde is over 700 pages, and I believe it comes close to Wings of the Dove as far as word count goes. Yikes! I haven't started reading anything else... a couple of smaller, non-fiction titles that serve a purpose as far as education goes, but nothing fiction. I'm trying to stick to the goal. 

In other news, I finished writing all of The Buried Cellar on Tuesday, 8/7, the day of the partial lunar eclipse... The book wound up being about 231,000 words long. Since I don't plan to send it out to a collection of agents or publishers, I won't have to drain myself by draining words out of the story during the arduous editing process. I started writing it in February. It is the first novel-length story (over 80,000 words) I've finished since 2012. 

 A lot of little things are getting finished, too. Some decisions, both giant and seemingly insignificant, have become clearer. 
partlyopenbook: (hullo)
I've returned to the cottage after an unanticipated and extended hiatus. If I'd had more time to consider options, instead of just bolting out the door as I'd done in April, I would've spent a lovely month in Canada. Ah, well... Maybe next time!

Not much here at BDC (Breezy Day Cottage) has changed. The garden is ENORMOUS. If anyone wants any tomatoes, look no further...

Between exceptional heat and trying to get my writing life back on track, there has begun a great purge of every garret nook and every basement cranny. I'm not entirely sure how I wound up with so many clothes... or what half of this stuff actually is, besides junk. Perhaps useful to others, but, for myself, it's become junk. The sentimentality I often feel towards objects, once holding some significant or profound memory, has been forced into a cold oubliette.

Another purge was my from-seed, homegrown lavender plant. She was put in a place where she would be looked after, and received attention enough, where she'd been talked to and watered. Alas, she was neglected in the way of proper sunbeams: she'd been left in a place with inadequate light. I've cut off the dead stems and set her back in sunlight. It's possible that the roots might form new shoots with good attention. It's also possible that the new batch of seeds I planted will sprout. It's possible that neither of these things will happen.

Future posts will update you on this most interesting story!

I started writing a new novel the other day... then dutifully recalled that I'd left my Summervale rewrite hanging in the ether of Unfinished Projects. Yesterday morning, I wrote quite a bit in the rewrite. Originally, in the upcoming release of Zandry of Bonewood, I was going to have Summervale as the first story... I'll probably switch things up a bit, though. I still believe the rewrite is worth the time, but I also think it doesn't make a great opening story in a collection of short stories.

I've decided to devote September entirely to my writing. I say this as if I don't devote every month and every day to my writing... But last month was rather lost in the way of writing, aside from a five-day flurry of short story production. This month, I mean to get a lot more done, I mean to do what I can to reach a few goals, finish a few tasks.

Later edit... I have Last Time in Summervale put together in its entirety, minus sufficient editing. It looks as though it's going to top off around 13,000 words! Yikes! The original was about 9500 words! That's a difference of 3500 words!

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