My brain is currently Sponge City with editing and thinking through and waking up at three a.m. or so with thoughts like Oh shit of course...that's where that one sentence I wrote on the pad a couple of months ago fits in....
But it's working, so I'm not fussing, but only saying.
Anyway, a couple of things have been getting me through this...(Whirl-Word-Alert)...rewriting abyss, in no particular order:
1 - Going out with JB and drinking wine at our neighborhood bar(s). We wish they were pubs, and thus better, but they're not, so there ya go.
2 - Sex.
3 - Music. Right now I have Tommy Bolin's Post Toastee on repeat.
4 - The camaraderie of you guys.
5 - Rereading favorite novels at light speed and barely taking them in, just kind of feeling and scanning and flipping the pages, and remembering I love to read, and thinking about why.
6 - Watching shows from Ramsay to History Channel shows to CBS Monday night sitcoms.
And watching...
7 - Golf. Yeah, that's what I said. Golf. I love golf - love watching it, love golf courses, love hearing about golf and watching golfers fight themselves and the courses they're playing to win. I suck at the sport- look like I'm playing mad croquet when I play. Took a bucket full of lessons several years ago and the pro kept saying Your form is good your swing looks good your play will follow or something like that, but no, mad croquet ensued and ensued. But next year, I'm trying again.
Meanwhile, I'm a watcher. And an editor of myself.
How about you all? How do you structure time to skirt around and aid and abet what you're working to do with your writing?
Monday, July 27, 2009
Golf Channel and Poast Toastee Days, and Other Things.
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11 comments:
About six months ago, I realized I was locking my left wrist (like I would with a baseball swing), and not breaking my wrists until long after contact (like I would with a baseball swing) and that's why every fucking ball was slicing worse than Jackie Mason's drives in Caddyshack II. I figured out how to correct those two things, went to the range and hit an entire bucket of balls straight for the first time in my life. Haven't played since. Wait, what was the question?
My mum actually plays croquet. It's totally vicious.
Some of those ways of dealing with the editing sound like fun.
I took lessons for almost a year before I realised it's croquet and not crochet.
Still, it's a lovely shawl.
Hi BT- I didn't have you pegged for a golfer. Next time we're down your way, maybe you and JB can go out and play a round.
I used to love to play croquet, McK. But golf croquet is a bit embarrassing. (That and having JB standing there behind me, working so hard not to laugh or get exasperated that he looks constipated.) Let's just say this is not conducive to editing placebo wawa #2.
Only some, FH? No golf, girl?!
Ah ril,
When I type croquet, I think of my mother's salmon croquettes. I used to actually smell fish when I handled a mallet. No kidding.
If I smell fish when I handle my mallet, I know it's time for a shower.
Was that too much? It was too much, wasn't it?
I'm laughing my ass off, and I just sent JB over to take a look and laugh his off as well.
HA!
Wow, Robin, I learned something new about you!
:-)
I turn the Golf Channel --to distract DH, so I can blog in peace.
Yep, Miss Chris. The Golf Channel is male-addictive. I love that about it!
I read web pages and drink red wine. Guess who is in recovery mode this weekend ;)
I'm laughing my ass off, and I just sent JB over to take a look and laugh his off as well.
--
glovin
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