Today’s Writing Accomplishments

Not nearly enough. I have been too fascinated with this whole website/blog thing. I've changed my webpage a zillion times today, moving things around, adding things, etc. It's an addiction! And then I sent the address to a few select friends, which increased the pressure to have the site look good. I can see them now: “Where on earth did she get this crap? I hope she didn't pay anyone!” No, I did not pay anyone, and I got that crap from Yahoo Sitebuilder (I don't happen to think it's crap, btw). I have Frontpage and Publisher, and yeah, I prefer Yahoo's freebie program. So I'm not a techno dweeb, sue me. Though, proud moment, I did not use a template. I designed it myself.

Okay, so what did I accomplish on the writing front? I edited my webpage. Uh, that's not what we mean, is it? All right, I did work on the WIP just a tad. I probably cut 50 words and typed 10 new ones. It wasn't much.

This week has been a wasted writing week! Monday, I rock and rolled. I wrote pages of the WIP, got an idea for two more books, wrote 7 pages of a new book, and basically had trouble shutting my brain off to go to bed. Tuesday, I had to take a Hawaii newcomer shopping. Stopped my flow dead. I had a blast with this lady, though, and I wasn't sure I would. We giggled like schoolgirls and we're definitely going shopping together again. Wednesday, I think I was recovering from the shopping. Wednesday night was critique. Thursday, I got this bright idea to finally complete and publish that webpage–cuz God only knows when I might need it–and then today I couldn't stop tinkering, even when I tried so hard to work on the WIP (okay, probably not hard enough).

I borrowed an Alphasmart from someone so I could see if I liked it. Oh yeah, baby. I definitely plan to buy one. If I'd gotten off my butt and taken that thing somewhere, the temptation to toy with the Internet would have been gone. *sigh* I should have gone to the beach with the darned thing (the clouds did clear up, just like I said). I'd have gotten more done by sitting in a chair on the sand than I did in a whole day with two computers.

My God, we are so spoiled as a nation. Watched a Tsunami program tonight, and then a program about teenagers whose parents paid for them to get boob jobs. Where are our priorities? People lost entire families, their homes, and we have a tiny boob epidemic. Oh the humanity! And here I'm whining about writing and going to the beach to accomplish something and ohmigosh, am I an ungrateful idiot or what?

Tomorrow, I don't know if I'll get anything done. Husband is home, and though he has school work for his MBA classes, he's sure to interrupt my flow at some point. I never get much done when he's home, even when he leaves me completely alone. If I've got to be bothered, I'd rather go to the beach. At least the scenery is gorgeous.

All right, I've wasted another day goofing when I could have (should have) been writing. I won't make promises for the weekend, but Monday is a new day dawning. If I get something done over the weekend, even better.

Zombies and Idiot Parents

I know this is a writing journal, but gosh, I can't help it when other things strike my fancy. First, it's cloudy in sunny Hawaii today. It'll probably pass later, since this is summer. If it were winter, forget it. We'd get several days of rain instead. I love the weather in Hawaii. After six years of living in Europe, I missed it when we first moved here, but jeez, where was my brain? Slippahs and shorts all the time, baby. Mo' bettah, ya?

Anyway, reading this morning about zombie computers. Seems these teenagers with nothing better to do wrote a code to hijack computers so they could inundate particular websites and get them shut down because of too much traffic. In this case, an 18 year old gave a 17 year old tennis shoes and a watch to get him to shut down a rival sports jersey website. And, apparently, this zombie computer thing is common and you don't even know your computer has been hijacked. So, if you get a solicitation telling you where to get free nude photos of your favorite movie star, don't click.

But, really, the biggest thing on my mind this morning is that idiot woman who locked her 12 year old son in the basement while she ran errands because the pit bulls were acting up. Natually, he left the basement and got mauled to death. Now why on earth didn't that stupid woman lock the damn dogs in the basement instead? Better yet, why didn't she get rid of those dogs if they were acting aggressive around her child? They've arrested her for neglect or something. Damn straight. She said in one interview that it was just his time to go. Ack! His time to go? His time to go? Her son died because of her negligence and she says it was his time. Poor kid, never had a chance.

And my mom informs me recently that my redneck brother has a pit bull tied up in his back yard. He has three children, one that's only about 6 or so. Sheesh! I'm not sure what to think about these dogs. An entire breed can't be bad or evil or whatever. But what is their purpose? And why do we always hear about people getting killed by these kinds of dogs (and certain other breeds as well)? Then again, if you thought about the population of pit bulls and the incidents that happen, it's statistically small. So what's the answer? Darned if I know. Recently, on a trip to the humane society to look for a dog, my husband and I saw the sweetest dog. You could just see sweetness in her face and demeanor. And she was half pit bull. I'll be honest though. Knowing she was part pit bull, complete with that locking jaw thing they have, made me pass on her. She probably was sweet as could be, but I have a cat that I didn't want to become dinner.

Website Building

Okay, I probably shouldn't be worried about a website when I'm not yet published in book length fiction, but I built one anyway. It still needs tweaking, however. Never tell me I can't do something because I'll probably go and waste hours doing it. Just like the website and now this blog. I should be writing.


But, when the brain is frozen in the same scene and the characters refuse to talk, I guess I can sneak away for a few moments. Just don't tell my husband, the wonderful man who lets me stay home and write full-time. On the other hand, he won't care, so long as the book gets done….