…at the compound. We had snow last night for the first time in years. It melted quickly, but for those few hours, we had a white Christmas. Food was eaten, presents were opened, attention was demanded and given.
And today, things are back to normal. With one person hiding under the covers and the rest glued to TVs.
Me, I just want to finish writing a book before it finishes me, and to that end, I’ve been keeping company with noctural creatures. Last night I was sure there was a mouse in the house, but I think it was just my own delirium.
Off to eat prime rib and play cards with friends.
Merry Christmas to all, and if that’s not a holiday you celebrate, then just have a great day. =)
OK, my last entry must have pissed ol’ Scott Cole off, because the CD stopped playing. I guess there’ll be no Tai Chi-ish energy in here today. NEXT!!!
I have a client on the way. Which means poor Timothy rolled out of bed and started vacuuming. Sleepvacuuming. I wonder if there’s a drug for that? I wonder if he’d share?
On the plus side, my FREAKING order from insightoutbooks finally came, so I can ship out my Christmas presents later than I ever have. I don’t foresee anyone getting anything on time, but… I don’t control the world. Dammit.
Barney the dog has the most personality of anyone in the White House, and they use him to good effect. His movies at www.whitehouse.gov are the only thing the White House has given me to smile about since January of 2001.
I just talked to Timmy. That’s Tim II. Or Second Timothy. Or Alternatim. Sometimes I forget how much I like and love him. And then I remember.
Little blond girls with white dogs.
I must have been kissed by a grinch or something. I was looking at People’s Most Intriguing People of 2004 and I was… unintrigued. Bored. Indifferent. And I’m not even in a bad mood.
I hate it when I have to delete several pages I’ve written because they just didn’t go where I hoped they would.
Time and page constraints… two evil phantoms when I’m trying to let the characters take the story. But I don’t have months to go on journeys with them or the freedom to submit a manuscript of endless pages…
….I may eventually even get the hang of this.
If anyone reading this ever goes to bookstores, and you see an author sitting all alone at a table waiting to sign books, just buy one. So what if it’s “Favorite Midwestern Recipes Using Jello?” An autographed book always makes a nice gift for your Aunt Hazel or someone.
It’s very hard to be an author sitting all alone at a table. That’s why I have writing partners.
What’s THE DEAL? It’s a novel. By Timothy J. Lambert and Becky Cochrane. But that’s not what I meant.
What’s the deal? Why am I writing a live journal? Simple. Just one more way I want to be like that writing partner of mine.
Except that I’m supposed to be w-r-i-t-i-n-g. And not an online journal.