7 September 2003
There is one thing left on my list for the week: finish "Silent Teraphim." My week ends with today, so it's probably good that I don't have much left on the list at this point, especially since we're leaving around noonish to go to Stan and Judy's. I did enough tweaking of scenes and plot that I think I'm ready to finally finish this story now.
I didn't do a heck of a lot yesterday -- some work on "Silent Teraphim," a few chores. Mark packed the sample book box, so now we know we'll need at least 35 of them. (Current number packed: 4. Sigh.) And Karalee, bless her, has offered some of their boxes next time I see her. I also talked to the folks and ordered plane tickets -- one for C.J. to come out and help us move, one for Mark to come home the first weekend.
Mostly, I relaxed and read. And read and read. I read Harvey Cox's Common Prayers: Faith, Family, and a Christian's Journey Through the Jewish Year -- interesting perspective from a Christian theologian married to a Jewish woman, but not quite what I was hoping it would be. Then I read Elizabeth Sanxay Holding's The Blank Wall, which reminded me a fair bit of the Patricia Highsmith novel I borrowed from David -- same genre and era, I suppose. The ending was...I didn't much care for the ending. And now I'm in the middle of Margaret Wertheim's Pythagoras' Trousers: God, Physics, and the Gender Wars. Wertheim promised some points in the introduction that make me cast a suspicious eye on the book in general, but we haven't gotten to them yet; we'll see. I think it's pretty dicey to try to claim anything decisive about what physics problems would get researched if there were more women in physics. That seems to imply statements that start, "Women are more interested in...", and I balk there. Women are more interested in what? In solid state? In astrophys? In radioactive compounds? In Great Social Issues? She's just going to have to justify the heck out of her arguments for me not to be scowly there.
So. Still feeling my way around what I'm going to be able to do while we're still here, and what I'm going to want to do. In terms of writing, I mean. I'm leaning towards not even trying to finish the Not The Moose Book in the next few weeks -- working on it, sure, but not pushing for a draft. I keep seeing that it's about a month ahead of me, and some evil part of my brain says, "A month! That's a good time to blast out a draft of a children's novel!" But that part of my brain really does have to shut up, because there's no time for that kind of thing. Finishing Space Moose is a possibility. Starting and finishing a new novel? No. Would be ridiculous and stupid. Just not reasonable. Nor fun, which is something the evil brain wants me to consider.
If I need a fun project, I can do more short stories in Toni's sequence. There. That'd be fun. So, novel edits, novel drafting but not too much, and fun short stories. All right then. It sounds suspiciously like a plan. And then when we get there I'll get right to work on encyclopedia entries for the children's lit encyclopedia. And finish the Not The Moose. And so on. There. That's settled, then, and no more fussing about it.
Now. Finishing "Silent Teraphim," fixing Mark's old glasses, having a bit of lunch, and heading up to Stan and Judy's. It sounds suspiciously like a plan.
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