Yeah, the community style editor is very broken

Rather than some version of NaNoWriMo this year, I'm going to attempt simply to post something every remaining day of the month, minus Sundays. Just to remind myself what it feels like. And to get myself into the habit of doing something ~creative in the early-dark evenings of November, rather than just watching YouTube.

Which means I'm not allowed to simply post embedded YouTube videos. I have to at least provide commentary or something of my own pure brain.

Eventually I'll get back into some sort of groove, right? Just have to stick at it long enough...

SEPTEMBER 19.

Some days it's kind of fun having to write something in order to unlock my laptop. Other days--today--I really don't feel like it. Ugh.

Writing. Writing about writing. Hm. Project of Doom is still percolating; I've been thinking a little more about the question of what kinds of stories would get told in a culture where people live longer, and instead of technology/mechanized industry, there are craftsmen so skilled that they can create things that would seem magical to us. Cabinetry so precisely cut and fitted that it's functionally seamless; fabric that will withstand several hundred years of wear, with waterproofing and a kind of climate control, that can "heal" from tears and minor damage, etc.

That's just the normal level of craftsmanship, of course. There are sculptures and machinists who can so closely mimic life that the only way to be sure is to break the thing open...

Whew--150 words done, I'm free!

***

SEPTEMBER 21.

Faked writing yesterday--just a page of gibberish to get the computer unlocked. Though gibberish is surprisingly difficult to generate; it might almost have been faster to actually write something coherent, except I just couldn't think of anything. End of a week spent doing spreadsheet stuff, and my brain was pretty much just jello.

Anyhow, writing today! NaNoWriMo is in a month and a bit, and I would like to actually *do* it for once. Maybe getting into the swing of writing daily now is a good way of working up to it. I could spend October slowly increasing the daily word count and working on figuring out characters and worldbuilding and stuff.

Last year I tried "Robinson Crusoe-esque prequel to 'The Tempest'" and didn't get very far because I just didn't have a proper grasp on a) what exactly I wanted the thing to look like, or b) the logistics of the piece.

This year I really, really, REALLY want to get the project of doom off the ground. It would have the advantage of being entirely self-contained in terms of worldbuilding, and the near-magic inherent to the setting would let me handwave stuff. (Technically so would Prospero's magic, except I put myself in a corner by getting fixated on how he got ambush-exiled by his brother if he already had some degree of magic available to him.)

It continues very dry here--I've taken to appending little requests for rain onto the usual daily prayers. Otherwise the weather is beautiful, with nearly-autumnal temperatures instead of the usual "psych! still summer!" heat spells that are fairly common around here.

On the one hand, it's killed nearly all the weeds, so there's not much that will need to be cleared out before winter. On the other, it's probably killed some other things we'd prefer to have kept. Like a painfully large portion of the lawn.

The birds and other small-ish animals in the neighborhood are quite dependent on us for our birdbaths and water fountains, as the local run-off streams have completely dried up. Whenever this happens, I wonder about the fish--which do exist, as there's a sizeable population downstream, where the water's deep enough to support some specimens at least as long as my hand. But there are little tiny fish up and down the streams in spring and other times when there's enough rain or snowmelt to keep the streams flowing properly.

Maybe they hide themselves in the mud, like lungfish? Maybe they lay eggs under the rocks, that lie dormant until the water returns?

Not a mystery I care enough about to actually research, but still. It's the sort of thing that makes me sympathize with the medieval and ancient theories of spontaneous generation.

Amazing how easy it is to not write. All it takes a few days in a row of me forgetting to turn on the ColdTurkey Writer app before logging off for the night, and suddenly I have half a week without writing anything.

My measure of a habit's durability, though, is how easily it can be resumed if/when interrupted. Breakfast > chai > private morning devotions > vacuum > groom dog > morning devotions with Mom > get dressed for work is my most resilient string of habits at the moment; 2.5 months of very spotty practice and yet it started up again, smooth as anything, once I decided summer vacation was over and I really needed to get back to full productivity.

Strings of actions that fit together via some sort of internal logic seem to be the best way to go at it, at least for me. Trying to do something new, all on its lonesome, is almost a guarantee of failure. There has to be some existing structure for it to hook onto, even if it's just mealtimes or physical proximity.

I guess whatever I wind up writing while developing this habit over the next set of days and weeks won't technically be a "book of days", since most of the subject matter probably won't be calendar-related. But my inspiration for starting this up has "book of days" in its title, and is similarly a little scatter-shot in its approach to subject matter, so oh well!

September has always felt like a good time to start new projects and habits, or resume old ones; I know New Year's is the popular date for, given the passage into a new year and the resetting of the cycle of months, but December into January is just the movement of early winter into deeper winter. Sure, it's in close proximity to the days beginning to lengthen, but the effects of that won't be really visible until later, in February and March.

Aroung here, at least, September is fairly clearly the change of high summer into early fall, completely with leaves on the lawn, and the first tastes of cooler weather, which annually beckons me to a return to productive activity, after several months of languid lying around in front of fans and air conditioner vents.

Just accepted a job offer--not full time, but very good hourly rate, and a flexible schedule. Also, I am already very familiar with the organization and the people working there, so I know it will be a good fit.

Still feeling a little shell-shocked that this has happened, but once the paperwork comes through and the meetings start up, I guess it'll feel more real? :P

(Someday I shall return from the job-hunt wars. Also, Stardew Valley 1.6 has eaten my brain.)

I sang this with a bunch of friends, oh, 15 years ago now? I still have my part completely memorized, which isn't true of just about any other choral piece I've sung over the years. In fact, I will at times sing it all by myself, even though it sounds a little odd without the other 3 parts. There are other choral pieces I love listening to more, others I dream of singing someday, but this is the one that for whatever reason embedded itself in my heart and brain.

Anyhow. May you all have a glorious new year, no matter what external drama may go on with elections and wars and what-not. May you and those you love be blessed with peace and many good things, so that you will look back on December 31, 2024 and say, surely this was the Lord's doing, and not ours.



( O praise the Lord of heaven! )

This one is a favorite that I've actually performed across several Advent seasons (and at the wedding of a fellow choir member!)