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Woo Ha! I’m done with the second draft of my novel. Went from 483 pages to 400 pages. Still a looong way to go.

Poop. We went to the Garden of the Gods this morning and walked along the horse trails. This is so we could see the horses. Ray can talk now; her conversation went like this. “Wook, mamma! Poop! Lotsa poop! Horse poop!” We did see two groups of horses. The second group stopped so the guide

New thing. There was an orgy of coloring at our house yesterday. Ray will now color stuff instead of just making color waves on the page. I taped it all to the walls at her eye level. The search term is “printables.”

More outside. @#$& pool. “Looks like the worlds biggest diaphragm,” Lee said. I got another one. It, too, has a leak in the wall somewhere. @#$& pools. I went through the closet with all the camping stuff, said to myself, hey, when are we going to go camping again? and pitched the tent in the

Outside. I’ve been blogging a little over two years now. (This is not a “going to put the blog on hold” message. By the time I got my lazy butt worked up to do it, I’d have chaned my mind.) Over the last two years, I’ve learned that my ability to be distracted with bright,

Gods. Recipe for a god: *1 or more locus or domain (god of the west river, god of dreams) *1 or more miracle or power *1 or more omen or portents (omens inform your followers that you’re going to do something, portents inform your followers that you want something) *1 or more sacrifices or sacred

Rule 2. Rule #2 of Storytelling (still in pondering status): The main character is the theme of the show. (Captain/Title character/Chosen One/Barkeeper etc.) Examples: (Keep in mind that I don’t watch a lot of TV anymore; it’s mostly limited to Joss Whedon and the Cartoon Network to be truthful) Mal Reynolds is the captain; everything

Hellboy We saw Hellboy last week. I liked it. There were plot flaws, but nothing so big that I was cheesed off. I was first delighted when I heard them start playing Tom Waits. I forget which song it was…something off Heart Attack and Vine? But then I laughed with glee: You’re one microscopic cog

Book Review. The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje I haven’t seen the movie. This is a “well-written” book. The language is poetic. The characters develop as characters. There are flashbacks. The ending is sad and poetic. The emotional intensity I should have felt–lovers leave each other, some of them die, bombs blow up Hiroshima–I didn’t.

Birthday. Last week. Sucked. Don’t ask.