Last year, I wisely decided that I had too much going on to consider another round of NaNoWriMo. Well, this year it looks like that wisdom was short lived because I attended a 'No Plot No Problem!' workshop last Wednesday at my local Borders. And even though we didn't do any of the proscribed exercises--there were about a dozen of us creating an outrageous racket in the otherwise library-like atmosphere--it was a blast. I sincerely hope that we supported the coffee shop and book sales sufficiently for the ruckus.

Hi Gang,

I did a bunch of site updates over the weekend, so if you notice anything odd or not functioning properly, please let me know. >)

 For every interested person that signs up for our site, I get a dozen or more junk registrations. You know the type. The meds, the enhancements, the playmates, the software (fully functioning, of course), xyzzy, all so unimaginative. Such a time burner. I'd rather be writing stories (or at least critiquing them) than wading through the week's spam registrations. 

All Quiet of the Writing Front

That sums it up. No barf stories. No great edits. Good night.

And what's this? You can't even submit a bleeping blog entry if it's under 25 words? What kind of bleeping bleepity bleep is this?

That should cover those extra words.

Good night.

It's amazing how fast the weeks go. It's been exactly one month since I posted anything.

Not much to pass along on the writing front, sigh.

Played a Big Band concert last weekend. The weekend before I had a local writing "Networks Day' which I arranged. Great meeting. Only wish I had more time to write afterwords, sigh.

During a hike, super-clever Ranger Chris sent his group (only 5 people) on ahead and feigned a radio call. Then I knelt down, turned around, as if examining a tree stump, and puked into the snow. Just a tad. Thought I had it made... Just a little came up, so I turned around ready to charge after the group, but wait, there's more. The second blast was bigger and noisier, but the group was pretty far ahead of me by that time. I buried the evidence of each blast with lots of snow. After the second event, I felt pretty good, about 90% better and hurried to catch the group.

I'm still going. Less than two weeks left in February, and I've got about eight chapters left. Basically the climax of the House on Hill Street. I wrote two chapters today, both fairly short, but that's two less to do. If I get just get a little written during the week, just even a chapter, then crank a few out each weekend, I can make my self imposed deadline. If only I hadn't taken on this SSDC editing project. Arrghh! Who new I'd get this windfall winter ranger job. Arrghh!

Out of the cold February breeze, I've been offered a two month National Park Service job in MI. Completely unexpected and completely habit changing. Of course, I'm a glutton for Ranger work, so I jumped into the winter fire. That means my winter writing time has vanished like the snowdrifts out my window. Still, I'm going to force myself to write; I'm determined to finish the rough draft of my House story by the end of February.

I missed a week posting. Oh well. Blame the winter illness. At least it was a quick two day bug and not something more severe.

Another week, another entry. This may be a record for me.

I spent this past weekend in Milwaukee visiting my wife's family. It's a dreary place of concrete and bars. For all you city-dwellers, I'll never understand the draw. Cities disconnect ourselves from reality. We forget upon what every city has been built. It becomes covered with our means of transportation, consumption, and lodging, but underneath, the foundation is the same as anywhere else. I suppose this is why I work for the National Park Service.

A week of ups and downs. I definitely fit into the artist stereotype of bouts of mania. Some days I'm raring to go and writing my dainty behind off. The next day I can barely lift a finger I'm so frustrated with my writing. Would it be better if I constantly flatlined in the middle? No highs? No lows? I'm not certain that's a question I can answer. I wrote about 6 chapters, a few actually pretty good this week. Still, I feel I could have done much better. Does every writer always believe they should be writing more?