Ch.1 almost done

...in between snatches of Brad's novel, in which, he informed me, the large amounts of exposition at the opening of every chapter is deliberate, though, in my opinion, it's bad. Apparently, his work is in imitation of someone else's, which makes me wonder how that guy got in print.

I didn't read my DR yesterday, as I'd planned to go cruisin' with Car-girl in her convertible, all the way to the Iron Claw Mountains (& of course, the Cat's Foot Hills). Alas, she called up sick, but promised to make up for the lost time. I am more concerned about finishing my reading, I do not need a Diet Mr. Fruity with lime from the Bear Creek Drive-in, but Trish needs the time, down in the basement.

As re the subject line, Ch.1 of Noc-Lar just needs, mostly, a final coat of polish. But perhaps some more lengthening, to keep the newly-created chapters on the same order of length as the rest of the thing.

Then the Bumble Bee Girl came home. We went down in the basement to check out the Invisible Cable Company. Then back upstairs to cook a No-Bake for supper. Then back downstairs -- I fell asleep in front of the TV show, again.

I did wake up in the middle of the night again, 3:00 something, but eventually drifted off. Now that I have risen from the dead, I plan to do some reading, Car-girl or otherwise.

In 1/2 hour, the Bumble Bee Girl rises from the bed. Perhaps this will give me the opportunity to surf the darkened seas.

Anyway, bye, bye Lucy; I think you're the only person who reads this thing.

Anniversary Bear

Once, we went out to the movies to celebrate our anniversary: the first Fantastic Four movie (It's clobberin' time!), but the sequel bypassed the Invisible Theater. A year ago, we went out to the mall to eat, with Ed & Denise; Denise lost her job; we didn't want to impose. So we skipped El Taco Loco, where we made our original plans to make the Two One, & went to PJ's instead. Trish had shrimp (what else?) & I had a chili burger, & a plate of homemade potato chips. We had enough buckadingdongs left to walk over to the Invisible 7-11 to pick up some artificial sweetener & canned pineapple. We came home, & watched cable in the basement for awhile. The TV'd been left on the CW, some night-time soap opera. Then, once more, I napped in my chair. Perhaps a consequence of the Seroquel. Dose might need to be reduced; actually, I want more Abilify. I hope I can get off the Depakote, as it's making me fat. I need a refill, but don't see much point to it, unless the Dr. wants to keep me on it & taper me off it. The other thing that really needs to go is the Risperdal. We see Doc Larocque on Monday. Hopefully, I can have a few of my meds reduced. & fuck Scientology!

the Invisible cable repairman vs. Jeffer Auss

First thing is, today is our 4th anniversary. We're still together, no matter how Leery the Philip K. Fantasy -- is she in Oreo-gon? As long as she doesn't disturb me when I'm working, I suppose it's OK to let the deaf, dumb & blonde girl into the house -- when she's no longer gone; but whenever I do, it triggers a manic reaction. Strange couplings in the day; stranger yet in the night, when I do Viagra with the Bumble Bee Girl. Perhaps tonight... (because...)

So after Trish left for work yesterday, I checked the mail, found what turned out to be an assessment of the house, but had to run over to Karen's office with it, & sit around for an hour, when what I really wanted was to torment my machine.

When I finally returned, my ISP had some problems, so I couldn't log in. Instead of crittin' Brad's fantasy, I wound up working on my own, instead. Ch.1 is now Ch.1-3, & I added the snorting serpent who guards the Suf Sea. The file's now about 6K; I want to push it up to 9K, in order to keep the new chapters of approximately the same length as those in the remainder of the book. I've found that crittin' fantasies for Critters has been very helpful; I'm starting to get an idea of what's commercial: like valor on the part of a true knight, while ripping the heart out of a snorting serpent.

Then, soon after Trish returned from work, the cable guy showed up. The guy's a total dildo. What an idiot! He tried to tell me that the sound cutting in & out on some of the channels was due to "loose speaker wires" (so why does it always happen on Ch.55 & a few others?) & that I needed to use the balance control -- which leaves everything else out of balance. Then, we took a brief foray into the basement, to wire up the downstairs -- but he had no idea how to program the remote (which, admittedly, really wasn't something he'd realistically know). After that, he told us he could swap out the upstairs cable, but "it wouldn't make any difference". Scared of the bill, I opted not to do this, but I still don't understand why it picks on the Sci-fi channel, "loose wires" my fucking ass!

When the guy left, I reheated our chili-mac while Trish continued to play with the remote. While Trish did her chores, I worked on Light My Fire. I went ahead & played chords in the left, but without the rhythm generator.

Jeffer came over around 7:30; he had been visiting his parents. He resoldered my busted tweeter, & it works now. After that, he helped program the VCR in the basement. Trish had ultimately found the instruction book, but it took someone else to interpret it.

We watched TV for awhile, then snuggled up in bed. I fell asleep fast, & woke up to a beautiful, hot day -- it's supposed to hit close to 90 today. I awoke to something beautiful that's lasted 4 years now. We will check some money out of the bank on Trish's way home from work, to go out to a restaurant. Trish wants to eat at El Taco Loco, the place where we decided to do it, but I would rather take her to PJ's. Maybe I can even get a check out of Karen, so we don't have to delve into our rapidly-diminishing bank account.

I love my Bumble Bee Girl, yes I do, Lucy in the Ogdoad & Lawless. I wouldn't leave her for the whole world.

burnout in the dome tweeter factory (a real Pioneer)

All right, yesterday when I got up, pre-Trish, I played the old Rectilinears (with every driver swapped out) until breakfast, when I switched over to the homemade speakers. They sounded rather dead in the highs. Actually, the right front had sounded dead in both the mid & tweeter a day or 2 prior, but fiddling with the L-pads helped. I think the contacts are weak on some of the control panels, as they occasionally pop in & out as the knobs are rotated. Then, the other speaker, left front, developed the same problem, but no amount of fiddling with the knobs helped.

Trish & I spent a typical morning together, save that we listened to the Rectilinears instead of the 15-in. monstrosities. We ate at the Invisible Soup Kitchen, then walked to the Iron Claw Credit Union, to pick up some money for food & Trish to blow at the Coffee Hound on the way to Pizza Hut. We did a little grocery shopping, which cost $20.08. Amazing how much you pay for so little.

So I called Jeffer Auss about my burned out Pioneer dome tweeter. 13 buckadingdongs at Parts Express for a replacement; 18 something for the L-pad. Hopefully, it'll turn out to be just a cracked solder joint. Probably would work just as good with terminal lugs, & we wouldn't need to keep repairing the system this way.

Also later today, pre-Jeffer, the cable guy is coming over, to wire up the TV in the basement. This way, when the weather's hot, we don't have to miss out on anything on the tube. Car-girl will help Trish with the windows & sheets on Thursday.

Meanwhile, I have another chunk of Brad's novel to read today. It leaves me little time for my own writing, but I'm starting to see how-to on a lot of the stuff I want to imitate, ancient kingdoms, jousting knights (who rode in from the barbarian nations to the north as mercenaries), things like that.

Trish needs help, being motivated for work, especially the first day; the night before, her racing thoughts keep her awake. I'm developing a similar feeling right now -- I want to spend a few minutes on my book, but am tempted to continue to surf the darkened seas. We'll just have to see what happens -- but you're abusing your computer when YM, not OpenOffice, is your most commonly used program.

another euthymic Monday

So we've come at last to a Monday, where (perhaps) I am euthymic. For the past couple of days, I thought maybe I had become depressed over "Galaxies". I have struggled so hard to be published professionally, the few credits I have are anti-credits, & at this point, Analog soliciting my submissions aside, I really feel like "Galaxies", too, will come back with a personal slip that really won't do much in the way of fine-tuning it. I have planned, though, to send it thru Critters if/when it's rejected, to see what's "wrong" with it, & put up with some of the idiocy coming from teenage D.A.R.E. brats who are flunking science -- & English. After that, assuming they're still open, Baen's Universe, followed by Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show -- though both these markets have, so far, sent back nothing but forms.

It won't be. It'll never happen. I've spent 30 years, struggling, it always is returned as useless (save for the anti-credits) -- & even with a page of insults out of Andromeda Spaceways, albeit the dildo who wrote the reply didn't know a goddamn thing about science or philosophy -- or diplomacy -- & will be an easy target for the Invisible Hog, if he ever comes out of retirement.

So yeah, I'm just sitting around here, waiting for disappointment. Never mind that Bill Veeder compared my early writing to Shakespeare, unless the Hinchey Amendment passes, & President Gas doesn't veto it, I no longer have the weed to carry on.

I seem to be functioning OK, otherwise. Bumble Bee Girl had the day off Sunday, so all we did was sit around & watch DVDs, for the most part. We ate lunch at El Taco Loco, came home, & Trish went downstairs to curl her gorgeous hair, while I stayed upstairs for a bit, in order to do a couple more paragraphs of Noc-Lar. I'm trying to do it as a sort of medieval (LOTR) society with alternate universe dimensions, also part Conan/sword-&-sorcery stuff. Some of it is coming out of Critters -- I can blow these stories up on MS-Word 97 (a program I use for little else) so I can actually read them & look for the "formulas". My greatest weakness & my greatest strength is writing against formula. Ellison gets away with some minor violations of the "rules", which are lauded at awards ceremonies, but are usually lacking in anything truly innovative: his knowledge of English is as bad as his knowledge of science.

Trish & I split a No-Bake for supper last nite, watched the Invisible cable for awhile (tomorrow we get cable down in the basement! I need my eyes excited!), then I ate a Viagra, though this particular time, it didn't work so well. Although I'm able to satisfy Trish, the difficulties achieving an orgasm are so great that I really feel I need to be off the Risperdal.

We see Doc Larocque the 2nd. It should be real atomic.

weekend is here...

...for Trish; actually, it's the 2nd day of the weekend; Trish works Saturdays, so today she's sleeping in until 9:00, though the 8:00 AM alarm will sound shortly, as she needs to take her Synthroid before her calcium. Then we will have a breakfast of toast, cereal, eggs & bacon -- the latter came from the Invisible Food Bank when I went there with Car-girl Friday.

Saturday, I mostly just read another 9K in Brad's novel -- which he admitted this morning is a rough draft, that it improves in Ch.6. Once I finished that, I worked a little more on Noc-Lar. A lot of the back story in the original, presented in flashbacks, has now been moved into 2 separate Ch.s, with the army encamped on the shores of a hostile land being pretty much not elaborated yet. Mostly, I feel I have 3 Ch.s here, not one, & want to treat the file appropriately. This means working each chunk upwards, into 3-5K Ch.s. My word count now gives me 4K for the entire thing, so I have to approximately double the length.

Trish had a typical day at work, while I stayed home & tormented my keyboard, then when she came home she showered, so we could be on-time for church -- a baptism, but God dips what He dips in water.

Then we went to the Invisible Albertson's. Trish wanted mouthwash, Dentu-creme, & I needed a Chap-stik. She did some cleaning upstairs, then we watched Buffy -- & I zoned out in the chair. Got up around 7:00 this morning. Trish just took her pills, & fuck the Scooby Club!

Noc-Lar re-make/re-model

Before & after Car-girl took me out to the Invisible Food Bank for 3 whole boxes of the incredible munchies, Brad's novel chapters not being in my inbox, I worked on Noc-Lar. I'm not certain when I began the expansion of it into novel length, but it must've been a long time ago, as the font is too small for me to read now. Mostly, I just realized (from seeing other authors make the same mistake) that the opening moved too slowly, so I'm zapping that up. Also, I decided to break File #1 up into 3 different chapters, because of the large amount of back story there. It also increases my space to do world-building -- somehow, I have to explain what the Greek gods are doing in the Middle Ages.

Other than that, yesterday moved along much like others in this blog. Trish & I had our breakfast of pancakes, drank coffee while waiting for her to leave for work, there was a Car-girl (atypical), Say Bra gave the Bumble Bee Girl a ride home from work, & I fixed Hamburger Helper before going down in the basement to watch Star Trek on videotape.

When I woke up today at 6:00, I sprayed the dandelions & various other nasty weeds with Weed b Gone. There's still some left, so I'm waiting 3 days before I spray anything again. I did it today 'cause Fred mowed the lawn yesterday.

Today, I'm looking forward to the next installment of Brad's novel. I'll try to finish it before Trish is home from work; otherwise, I'll send her downstairs with a DVD.

I love my Bumble Bee Girl.

a perfectly normal (strange) daze

I haven't written in this blog much lately, mostly 'cause there's so little out of the ordinary going on in my life. The other day, Fred came over to work on Light My Fire, picked up Trish to go to the Invisible Bread Store. Also (Zarathustra), Car-girl & I picked up some Weed-b-Gone out at the Invisible Wally World, as well as some groceries. Fred will be coming over this afternoon to mow the lawn, possibly jam. Then tomorrow, I spray the weed killer -- the dandelions have taken over the back yard.

The guy whose fantasy novel I'm reading for Critters didn't reply to my review -- hope I didn't hurt his feelings; I don't think my review violated the diplomacy standard -- so today, barring he sends another 9-10K chunk, I'll be working on Noc-Lar. From what I was able to tell when I saw it yesterday, it needs a lot of work. Mostly, Ch.1 needs to be broken down into 3 files, each of which could be treated as a chapter in its own right -- maybe not potentially 4-5K, like the remainder of the novel, but at least 2-3K. The style also needs work; it doesn't sound "stilted" enough for a couple of knights in a vaguely medieval society. Also remaining to be done is replacing some of the names drawn from obscure religions with ones that fit the Greek/Athens setting better.

I also need to start painting more again. Bird of Fire is setting around my front porch, with his flames all ill-defined & no clouds in the sky.

The weather is becoming quite warm: 90 degree highs. The window a/c in the bedroom keeps me Kool when I'm working on the computer, but we definitely need to purchase one for the front room. & once Car-girl sorts thru the basement with Trish, we'll be sleeping down there, which should cut down on the electricity bill. We're also having the 'lectro-tech come in on Tuesday in order to install cable in the basement, so the bedroom can be a place where we can spend the entire evening.

down in the basement...

...I need my head examined (going to the Invisible Fargo the 2nd for that); I need my eyes excited (new lens is coming into Invisible Optometric in a few days); mostly, Trish has to stop worrying about the basement wall ("Will our whole house fall apart?"), so we had Ed & Denise come over & look at it. Mostly needs to be scraped, painted with Dry-lok, then painted over; crack fixed with mortar. Looks like it'd cost about 100 buckadingdongs. It'd be worth it, just to stop Trish from worrying.

The first chapters of Brad White's fantasy novel arrived today in the email. It looks like it needs work, especially stylistically -- when he grabs for a metaphor, they sometimes come out overwrought. Nothing to say about the plot yet, I haven't read that far into it. The project should keep me "busy" (in a Kimothy sense) for awhile.

Speaking of Kimothy, I wonder where the hell she's been -- Oreo-gone? It seems that the woman likes to come over either too much or too little. For awhile, it was every day, when Trish was working -- this, also, is my work time; tales full of savage dread flow out of my mind & into the machine. At one point, I hurt her feelings by asking her to go away; she didn't come by for months; then all of a sudden was over every day again. Now she's gone, & I don't want to risk her coming over all the time in response to a phone call, the way she did the last time I called. She is very disruptive of my relationship. At least Trish doesn't get paranoid/jealous of the woman (they both feel that way about each other), but Car-girl's attempts at teaching sign can't defuse the situation if Kim doesn't cum bi. Once that issue is resolved, I think they'll be the bestest of friends.

last couple of days

Is Trish turning manic again? Or has she just been doing extremely well on the antidepressant properties of Lamictal? (When the Lamictal is in her blood & the blood is in her head, then she's better off than dead & I guess that I just don't know -- heroine, be the death of me!) So Sunday, she obsessively went thru all the old video tapes & DVDs that she'd collected compulsively, taking everything off the shelf & categorizing it.

Then the day after, I mailed Galaxies #2 to Stan Schmidt, even though I'm not that optimistic about him buying it. He did say he liked the ideas, but I've simply had so many problems writing to fit his -- or anyone's -- "formula" that I'm despairing of even selling a single piece professionally before I die. I'll keep writing, I'm driven where it's regarded, but even though Stan is soliciting my submissions -- maybe this is the beginning of the depression that's sure to follow the mania that developed last winter.

Trish would tell me to be optimistic, though. She's such a good woman. She goes out to Pizza Hut & works every day, so I can stay home & be creative.

I love my Bumble Bee Girl. Better than all the rest.

early rising

Once more, I woke up way too early: 4:20. I lay in bed until 1/4 to 6:00, took my Abilify (do I have the speed to carry on?), then booted up, wishing I was Rebeboed (as in Bozo). My days of cheap & plentiful Rebebofication materials expired in 1980; you know it's Union Maid.

Yes, I feel like being totally Rebeboed again, not just for medical purposes, but recreational: all my best stuff I wrote on U-boat; now I struggle to learn the "rules" in Critters, in order to give my writing some semblance of genre material. Arn, I've learned, has too many hallucinations & too much religion, but even if I wanted to do a re-make/re-model, would be hobbled by all the missing files, lost on a 5-1/4" floppy when I made the transition to Windows.

Noc-Lar is a different story, David Dalglish to the contrary -- the stupid bozo, a Critter, couldn't figure out that the "loopholes in the plot & unbelievable characters" were all the action of the Noc-Lar. Then again, it's hard to take seriously someone who writes stories with titles like "The Beast Attacks", with "it's cold, glittering eyes & razor sharp fangs" -- bleh!

But his criticism was so harsh, I almost felt like giving up. Same for the clown at Andromeda Spaceways who returned "Fragile Eggshell Mind" with a page of insults about "truly atrociously bad science" coming from a retarded 7th-grader whose comments simply proved that the ignorant asshole doesn't know a goddamn thing about real science, the sum of his knowledge, apparently, having come from bad comic books. Then again, they're an amateur market, so maybe this is why they pull shit like this.

I did complete "Galaxies" yesterday, printed it up, & today will be writing up a cover letter. I think perhaps I could've explained the computer takeover better, but I'll mention that in my letter. I printed "Galaxies" in part because of the storm warnings. It rained a lot, but no thunderstorms.

I also called Hope yesterday evening, spoke to her at some length. She still wants her daughter back, but her ex won't allow visitation, to which she's legally required. I feel for her, though I have no children myself.

I can't believe it's 20 'til 8:00 & I haven't accomplished anything yet, just surfing around the Internet. I checked out a lot of my usual sites. Someone wanted to meet me on Ho or No; God & I hope I don't start up on that again -- if the insomnia is incipient mania, I'll never get off Depakote -- & I've gained 20 lb.s since Doc Larocque raised the dose. Perhaps that will persuade her.

This is Trish's day off, which makes it my day off, too. In another hour, I'll fix cereal, toast, & eggs; in between that time & this, I'll complete my cover letter to Analog. I think the story has a good chance of publication; if it bounces, it goes thru Critters -- though sometimes this is futile; as with Georgia-girl, there will be bozos who will tell me to "take out the tachyons" (yeah, right -- that's the whole point of the story) or "take out the info-dumps" (which is also what the editor asked for). So some of the crits will be useless. Anyway, I'll start Noc-Lar once I've read some fantasy.

--Fantasy, fantasy, fantasy!, Rabbitfuck said. I bet he's in there right now, having his nervous breakdown & writing to VADIS about it!

one more time to live...

...& I'll finally have something published in Analog -- the subject line being a reference to an old song by the Moody Blues. Do I believe in reincarnation? No, but perhaps there's an afterlife corresponding to monadology being expressed holographically, something that the computer in my story needs to be able to do.

What it amounts to is that I have about 6K here, 7.5K is their preferred maximum for shorts, so I can only add 1.5K, which I'm planning to do by revamping the initial control room scene -- Ted's writing, too technical. Actually, now that I got that rejection slip back from Stan, I realize that writing for Analog is a lot like writing for Bill Wimsatt -- science PhDs who like science fiction. Ted's problem, when he sent me the last draft -- the one before I got manic -- is that "romance on a spaceship" is not something Analog is looking for.

I'll try to finish it today, but doing the final draft may have to wait until tomorrow, as I don't want to send in a rough draft of the new control room scene. This also includes a lot of moving chunks of prose around, but I don't mind doing that, except for the problem jumping around. The last time I tried to use bookmarks to do that, OpenOffice balked.

Well, I have to move the water (first time I watered this year) & then fix breakfast. Nummy treats!

Who is on the stereo?

Right. & Yes is on 2nd -- I put my Who's Greatest Hits in the CD changer the other day, or at least what I thought was it. Between that & whatever else I thought I was putting in, I rediscovered Inna-Gadda-da-Vida. So won't you walk with me, & take my hand?

Got up around 6:00 again, potty time. It's good to get up around 6:00, in spite of my Seroquel dosage; I was beginning to feel over-sedated. However, I have yet to ascertain if that's what affected my weight. I'm starting to look more & more like a sweet Pookie Bear, irregardless of whether I want to or not. At least Trish is still happy with me.

Or it could be the Depakote. Also, the Seroquel was recently cut -- but perhaps I simply need a sedative that doesn't affect weight gain. I certainly would never give up Abilify; its energizing effect has "Galaxies" almost complete, & given me my life back: I do not need to be baby-sat by a Noncorean who has vanished into Oreo-gone, or the woman who dominates the Layout. My fascination with alpha females ended with that unmitigated Vadisystem, Jill of the Jung-le. Perhaps some of the things I did to her were inhumane -- but what really broke us up was her lesbianism.

So mostly, I've been hanging out at home, fixing pancakes/french toast in the morning for the Bumble Bee Girl, then working on my diverse creative projects -- just started a painting, "Bird of Fire", & "Galaxies" mostly needs a layer of polish.

So that's all I did yesterday, apart from running over to the Invisible Albertson's for a mac-&-cheese dinner & a can of chili -- Trish wanted chili-mac for supper last nite, & it amazes me how little the woman eats -- this is a consequence of going off Depakote. For her.

So today, I do another draft, polish it tomorrow & Sunday (if we can get Trish downstairs), write a cover letter, then send it to Analog Monday. In the interim, I have a few hundred words to add, possibly also cut some, here & there. It's finally started to look more like my writing than Ted's.

Then, it's RFDR time. I want to choose a couple typical sword-&-sorcery novels from the Critters list & read them, prior to commencing revision of Noc-Lar -- & create it with a dozen prequels in mind, but no U-boat to sail them on. Just Abilify.

'Cause when the Abilify shoots up to a center in my head then I'm better off than dead & fuck Scientology!

she sleeps sweetly...

...the Bumble Bee Girl, for whom I shall soon cook breakfast, sleeps sweetly in the upstairs bedroom. I'll cook french toast for her as soon as she awakens -- more sleep problems for me: I woke up at 2:00 AM to use the toilet, stayed awake another hour. I may need more Seroquel, assuming it's not the agent responsibe for the weight gain, & fuck Scientology!

Since the last journal entry, I managed to complete another draft of "Galaxies", but decided the characterization needs to be pumped up a bit -- it won't be ready for mail until Monday, which may mean working on it on Sunday, which may mean sending Trish down in the basement with a DVD.

I did some laundry, whites, yesterday, so when she was home from work, Trish & I spent some time downstairs watching movies -- with vision that has "improved" to 20/150; today, I see the guy at the Invisible Optometric Clinic, possibly for new glasses, & were it not for the Republicans blocking the passage of the Hinchey-Rohrabacher Amendment, some real atomic submarines.

Looking forward to Trish's days off, we want to go see the new Fantastic Four movie Monday, assuming it plays in Invisible. Trish wanted to go out for a meal first -- no, I told her, restaurant prices have become ridiculous, as have groceries: we spent almost $20 at Albertson's yesterday, & didn't get all that much stuff. Wally World is the cheapest Invisible Grocery Store, but 1) no wheels (Car--girl is on vacation) & 2) no buckadingdongs from Karen. With whom I have to speak about the boxes for Trish's speakers. They will be built!

what a long, strange trip to Malta it's been

That was yesterday: Trish had to see the Medicaid dentist. There are no more Invisible dentists who take Medicaid.

But before that, we had a typical weekend, minus the LOTR. Trish wanted to go to Subway for a real atomic sandwich, & we noted that there are no more Crazy Tacos on Sunday -- no help. The sandwich was OK, typical club

When we returned, we watched Pirates of the Caribbean II. Monday we went to the Layout, but then, when it turned out the culinary treat -- "See what a good cook I am!" -- was cajun chicken, Trish & I went out to Wolfer's, who've gotten real expensive. 15 buckadingdongs for a hot dog, chili dog, onion rings, & chewy cheese sticks that almost choked the Bumble Bee Girl. It was a bit much. After that, we attended Part III. Real atomic, but too long.

Trish had a haircut appointment at 9:30 yesterday morning, which meant awakening her a half hour earlier than normal. I dropped off my overdue OneWest notice at the Silver Rectangle (Upstairs), we relaxed for a bit, then went over to the Invisible Feed My Sheep for a free meal -- which turned out to be hamburgers. Car-girl got here about 1:15, & we went moving down Dawn's Highway at incredible super-speed.

We got there on time, or actually, a little early. Trish's teeth-cleaning took little time, as she only has 5 left. The sore in her mouth turned out to be benign, but if it gets worse, enlarges or hardens, she may need surgery.

After finishing with the dentist, she wanted to get a burger at Dairy Queen, which was expensive & El Taco Loco would've been a better value, even a pizza.

I woke up at 5:23 this morning. It's good to be able to do that. But if my sleep keeps dropping, I may need more Seroquel. I seem to be on a happy medium right now, so I think when we see Doc Larocque in July, I'm going to ask for a Depakote taper. Something has certainly been making me fat in recent months. Once Car-girl has her TAs starting up again (next week), I may want to go in to see Suzanne Wiccan for a diabetic diet meal plan. I've lost weight with Zyprexa, so I'm sure I can also do it with Depakote/Seroquel.

Meanwhile, back at the typewriter torment, "Galaxies" is just about complete -- watching Pirates II Sunday I hit on a way to make the ending relevant to the rest of the story, the title. & no, Georgie-girl, I'm not "leaving out the tachyons". Of course, Aboriginal Spaceways (what's this I hear about "Amerindian" names?) may turn around & hate it, but they're just a cheap-ass dipshit amateur publication who don't know that it doesn't pay to have their editorial staff insult authors. & call it a "courtesy" to do so -- "Fragile Eggshell Mind" gets more well-researched, then goes back to Analog, perhaps with a stroke of insight -- Jill, but not Long.

Today (or tomorrow), "Galaxies" will be put into final draft form, barring the amount of time it takes to look at Science News & Sci-Fi Weekly. Then I begin a round of RFDRs prior to working on Noc-Lar. If Stan bounces "Galaxies" a 2nd time, I'll run it thru Critters to see what's "wrong" with it, which may or may not help, due to the randomness of the criticism. I've also still got to get that science fact article in to Stan. What I really need is a great big submarine to launch it.

So really, Lucy, it's all a matter of how atomic it gets.

Pirates of the Monday afternoon matinee

We're going to see the new Pirates sequel this afternoon. In preparation, we watched Part II yesterday, after we got back home from the Invisible Subway. We split a club sandwich, then found a spot to sit, underneath a leaky air-conditioner. We almost stopped at IGA for eggs, but decided to postpone it.

After the movie, we fixed our No-Bake, stayed upstairs for awhile while Trish puttered around in the kitchen, then returned to the basement. It's so much cooler than the upstairs on these hot days.

However, when the Bryan Ferry/Roxy Music music video (VHS) played, Trish found some small insect to turn her into the Insect Slayer again. I hope we don't have to set off another bug bomb -- too much hassle -- but I don't want to see Trish's anxiety escalate, the way it did a year ago.

Today, we're going to the Layout for the afternoon hours prior to the matinée, where, hopefully, Cheri won't be too big of a bit-cuh. We got her in trouble for the way she mistreated Bob -- one more mistake like that could cost her her job, so I think she's walking on eggshells. Or at least (steak in the park), she may simply snub us. In either case, the next thing she does wrong goes upstairs. God & I wish that we could find a way to replace her.

I had been planning to mail "Galaxies" today, but realized while watching Pirates that I needed to make some more changes to it, especially the end. Tomorrow Car-girl drives the 2 of us to Malta, for Trish's dentist appointment. I'm looking forward to that, but it does mean that I may not complete "Galaxies" in a timely fashion. I'd rather have it salable than rushed, though. After that, I plan to do 3 fantasy novel RFDRs from over at Critters, just as background. True, I did take Fantasy & the Gothic in college, but that was a long time ago, & -- for modern genre fantasy, at least -- you have to actually read it to write it.

Then there's the Invisible Hog. I don't care what Harlie Davison thinks of my writing, & fictitious/nonexistent similarities of his own to my Death-Lizard. It's the motorcycle company I'm worried about. Hence, a name change is in the works.

Or I may finish Arn instead. I sent the first 1/3rd thru Critters awhile back, re-making, re-modeling as I went. Then Trish started driving, & my anxiety level shot thru the roof. Also, I could see the screen a bit better then than my current 20/150. I will finish it, added "put the hallucinations in italics crap" there to make it salable, regardless of the way they weaken my material.

After that... who knows?

one more draft to rewrite...,

...& I'll have made it mine: "Galaxies" is close to completion -- thank a junkie doing cut-&-paste for the title. I want to fix a few small problems with continuity, then send it off to Stan Schmidt in the snail-mail. He liked it last time, so he should like the re-make/re-model even better. If by any chance he does bounce it, I might turn to Critters for advice -- but I can already hear people complaining about "info-dumps" when this apparently is exactly what he wants to see. It's often hard to find the Analog slant on Critters. Instead, you get the Asimov's slant from some, particularly those who don't know any science; same goes for F&SF, & I can't possibly think of how a hard SF story could sell over there. Baen's Universe pays the best rates -- 20 cents a word up to $2,000 -- but they only return stuff with form letters; Stan gives me little pieces of chit-chat & encourages me to send in more stories.

Which nonetheless, will be my next writing project, as Cawelti termed it "commercial", & David Dahlglish to the contrary, I expect some rather good sales from this -- enough to launch Mind-Warp in rewritten form. I'm planning to move it closer to the original & away from the Multi-Death version: literary agent Scott Multi-Death saw a draft, complained about "the lack of science fiction elements" (which are going into The Bio-Psych Wars instead), which sparked a manic rewriting of the project, mostly to include Harry Canyon flying cars -- & VADIS. In an effort to explain where the Mindstorms were coming from, I resorted to Dick's Horselover Fat, made them the product of a psionic satellite.

The new version will be written to disaster-movie formula, derived from the book on writing SF & F Trisha gave me for X-mas. I hate doing this, but I often can't be left to my own devices -- & Critters (& I think SF fans in general) complain about "hallucinations within hallucinations" & want to know "what's actually happening". (You try having a schizophrenic delusion/hallucination & figure that out for yourself.) Same goes for Arn -- Critters objected to my character, unstuck in time in a Vonnegutsy condition & constantly hallucinating -- when I resume work on that piece I'll have to start out with her renting a room in the Hotel Gonzo & turning the chapters into flashbacks. So that "we know what's really happening". Yeah, right. I wish I could.

So yesterday, Trish came home from work early, but allowed me to complete another draft of "Galaxies" by going down in the basement while I wrote. I eventually finished, for the time, & joined her watching videos. We made out around 9:00, & in spite of the Viagra, it took 2 hours to achieve an orgasm. After that I fell straight asleep. I woke up around 5:00, went to the bathroom, took a leak, then got out of bed around 6:30. I had a piece of toast, waiting for brecchie -- we like eating together, even if it is just cold cereal, maybe an egg. Trish is sleeping in now. Wish I could.

We're planning to watch Pirates of the Caribbean Part II on DVD today; tomorrow, go to the matinee at 4:00.

Karen also promised we could do something car-wise without Car-girl, as she's on vacation until July. She wanted to go shopping. We don't need more groceries (too bad), but I do need some new shoes.

& where the hell was Bingle when we needed him last Saturday?

almost finished, west Jamaica...

...blue Rocky Mountains; stranger by the river (which is a hot book by the guy who invented ECK; fortunately, unlike the Scientology cult, they don't disallow the use of psychiatric drugs, or thus spake Captain Strange.)

So I'm almost finished with "Galaxies Controlling Fate from Thousands of Light-Years Ahead," gratuitous title-explanation & everything else. If I were writing for Veeder, the explanation would of necessity be dropped, as it'd supposed to be cryptic, but for the science fiction audience, including it is necessary -- what I've discovered about Analog is that writing for Stan Schmidt is a lot like writing for Bill Wimsatt: using SF to teach science, speculate about future science. What has been done so far yesterday, a busy Dr.s appointments day, involved simply moving the Roxy scene to the opening. Then again, I dropped some refences about the automatic pot, Chris #420.

Friday morning, I saw Dr. Boes at 11:00. Some black nurse examined me, & I thought of the rarity of seeing one in Invisible City, North Dakota. I always look on black people positively 'cause of me & Muhammad Ali -- he's like the only DJ you can hear after 3:00.

The appointment took an hour, so I stopped by the Layout. I had no intention of going out to etheir the Iron Claw Mountains or Pepper Park to watch Cheri burn steak, I had leftover chicken alfredo & a visit with Joe at 2:00 to worry about, moved my story chunk around & got there on top -- some mysterious stranger (femme-bot) gave me change for a dollar for the pop machine across the street.

In the evening, after Trish came home & supper was out of the way, we made out. Even with Viagra, the effect wasn't really all that great. I need to be off Risperdal, but want off Depakote first -- I gained 20 lb.s since the dose was increased.

What's funny is Paris Hilton. I just saw on CNN.com how she was taken out of the court crying 'cause she wasn't treated better than a common criminal -- which she is.

Approaching the end, beautiful friend...

...the end of "Galaxies" -- yesterday, I went thru it, did some more cutting, rearranged, & plan to rearrange more, the story that I've been changing & rearranging for 1/2 a year now. Initially a collaboration, my 2nd author dropped out over all the sex, drugs, & rock-&-roll (saxophone solo... slave to love). The last rewrite has now eliminated that aspect, though, as being unnecessary for the plot.

Tomorrow, I plan to finish the thing. All it needs is another large block moved toward the beginning, some tweaking of the ending, particularly POV problems, & then on Monday I want to mail it to Stan Schmidt. If it bounces, I'll Critter it, but I can already hear in advance bozos who don't know how to write for Analog complaining about the "info-dumps", when those are specifically what he asked to see. Take your Georgia March: she told me to "leave out the part about the tachyons". Duh! No brainer: if I do that, I don't have a story, & the relatively weak love story previously there is not interesting enough to do anything but hit the cutting floor.

This will have to wait a day: I have an appointment with Dr. Boes this morning & Joe this afternoon, hence may hang around the Perky Pam Layout until then, eat some of Cheri's good(? but not nutritious!) cooking, & in general be bored watching her "favorites" play cards & her be rude to the other people there.

All I really did yesterday was to work on my short story project, except I had an appointment with Dr. Nolan, to have my blood sugar measured: I've regained 15-20 lb.s from what I'd lost seeing Plush Suzette; I may have to return to the Wiccan woman for a diabetic meal plan -- in spite of which, I had a taco burger & nacho supreme at El Taco Loco -- & where the hell was Joey when we'd like to turn her on to Mexican food? (Not that there's anything Mexican about Crazy Tacos.)

After "Galaxies" comes Noc-Lar, which, albeit having received 2 A's & a B in Fantasy & the Gothic at the U of C, I now feel the need to peruse the literature longer before setting Palamon & Arcite to square off against each other. This means doing a couple fantasy RFDRs from Critters, which also will ingratiate them enough for them to read my book -- I'm thinking of including gnomes, under the less well known term "kobolds". Gnomes! Gnomes! I know I'm really going insane when I see gnomes carrying machine guns! (Lucy, you'd better read the book -- or anyone else out there who's interested in drugs & psychosis.)

new day of work yesterday...

...but it's an old day now...

...so not much went into Trish's opening day of work. Becky is gone -- Trish knew that from before -- Vanessa is less good about things like free salads (even Car-girl gets the blues); Say Bra is still there, saying "Bra", & Trish got kicked out of the dishroom yesterday, the drivers only had a few pizzas; took over on the sprayer -- so Julie in the sky with Lemons gave the Bumble Bee Girl a ride home.

Fred also stopped by, while I was writing, about moving the old a/c down to Sally Ann's. A lot of my inspiration for "Galaxies", which occurred this past weekend, has seemed to disappear. It's getting to be a chore to write; when that happens, it's best to develop a different project (bio-esthetics?) or switch to a different hemisphere -- art & music. (Does that clown at Andromeda Spaceways really not know the hemispheres are connected to opposite sides of the body? Does that shit head know anything about science at all? Apparently not; Stan Schmidt liked the idea -- got to get to Jill Bolte-Taylor about the actual physiology, as speculated by her -- I'm not convinced by her functional localization theories, but in science fiction, "We all know there's a speech center in the left hemisphere" -- when a few years ago they discovered that Broca's area (the "speech center") is highly active in artists while painting. Well, duh! I verbalize interiorly heavily when I paint.)

So I tormented my typewriter all afternoon, changing POV & other things, rearranging, moving clumps of material around. I did get it under 7,5oo words; it's now about 6,200, so I can build up the characterization on my crusading bitch whose husband only married her 'cause she's a femme-bot -- though I also threw out the dope in the sex scene, but put a mention of legal herb in later on.

Then Trish came home.

We relaxed for awhile while I waited for Karen -- she'd planned to meet me at 2:30; 4:00 came by, still no Karen, about 1/2 an hour later, I started cooking.

We'd taken out some frozen chicken breast; I fried it & mixed it in with a cheesy alfredo No-Bake, stove-top directions.

Trish cleaned up in the kitchen, I called Keith -- he's upset over Bonnie sleeping all day -- then went down in the basement, so we could turn off the a/c in the bedroom. After watching Battlestar Galactica, the mini-series, we left the fan on the a/c on all nite. I switched it off; when Trish woke up to take her pill, she demanded it on again.

Now I have 15 minutes to waste before waking Trish up. Maybe, if Andy Morlock is right, I'll be famous. (Stay tuned for future installments of Andy Morlock, or why I want to go on a nutmeg binge & torment my typewriter.)

Kool in the shade, & the Mahavishnu Orchestra played

OK, so the title has nothing to do with this journal entry, save that I'm listening to music, but King Crimson, not the Mahavishnu Orchestra. I've been into them both since adolescence; Kool? I'm as Kool as Muhammad Ali. Who said that? He did. You can read the entire story here.

Yesterday, which was Trish's last day of time-off before returning to work, we did plenty of relaxing -- movies down in the basement, to keep Kool -- & one therapy session, with Charlene, who promised to hit the Scoobies over the head with some kind of club, blunt instrument, if they keep advising the mentally ill to go off their "pills". The only thing worse than Narcoholics Numinous is Scientology, bastard son of a bad science fiction writer.

After we got done with Charlene, Karen took us out for brunch at the 4Bs. I had an omellete; Trish had an egg mit muffin. From there we went to the Invisible Wally World, to pick up some groceries, including enough peanut butter to last a couple of days (heard of a van, loaded with weapons?) & some new shoes for Trish -- an item I also need; my old tennis shoes are worn at the heel & my feet hurt at nite from having them on all day.

The only time -- besides bedtime -- when we weren't down in the basement watching some of our old VHS -- Galaxy Quest & First Contact -- we spent about an hour upstairs, cooking supper: pork loins, rice with mushroom soup, & frozen green beans. Nummy treats!

So the rest of the time today, unless I'm once more with Karen, I'll be fixing "Galaxies". I decided to take out the EVA, though I'm not certain yet if the spaceship should be thousands of light-years from Earth. This poses a problem because, SF fans not being very large on William S. Burroughs, aren't likely to "get" the title.

& so it goes. (Wanting to be really Vague-&-Nuts, one of these days I'm going to go on a nutmeg binge & finish "Andy Morlock's Dead": there is nothing more vile or depraved than a gonzo in the throes of a nutmeg binge!)

just a singer in a drugs-sex-& rock-&-roll band

Well, I've had drugs enough for 3 (just ask Timothy Leary -- or you could've, when he still lived), I've had dreams enough for 3, too -- all shattered by schizophrenia, the long series of unfinished novels; & I've had love enough for one: I have my Hope to comfort me; I've got my new horizons out to sea. & I'd give myself so lightly, for my lady -- yet last nite, even on top of Viagra, I had a hard time getting off. I think we spent too much time watching Heavenly Hooters instead of going to bed to have fun. Also, Trish accidentally missed a dose of Risperdal -- I advised her to take one in the early evening & 2 at bedtime -- so she turned into Cranky Bear, then realized what the problem was, & took some early. (Somnolent effect is too great to take the whole dose at once.)

We were down in the basement -- I've already got my head examined; Dr. Boes will get my eyes excited on Friday -- as the weather yesterday kept us down there, to escape from the heat -- we're having bipolar weather: hot & dry followed by cool & rainy. When the really bad weather starts, I want to have the cable transferred from upstairs to the place of head-examining highs to eye-exciting lows, albeit I'd have to get some U-boat to accomplish that.

I also spent a fair amount of time yesterday working on "Galaxies" before Trish woke up. Now that I have the 2001 version seeming to gel, I think I can get it to Stan Schmidt in another week or so. I plan to write on it again, soon, if I can just pull myself away from free online porn. Altavista is the best place to turn that up. I need it as an appendix to my Viagra, because of the way Risperdal causes the Orgasm-Death. Even though everything had been real atomic the time before last nite, the slime-off the 2nd time didn't really own up to the pill's reputation.

Some of it came from the Moody Blues, beloved band of my adolescence. At the month's beginning, we picked up a DVD of the band; Trish developed a "chrush" on the lead singer, so her fantasy played against mine: she'd say "Justin"; I'd say "Kim" -- though a nice Philip K. Fantasy, the woman hasn't seen us for over a month. I'm afraid to call her, as it'd lead to constant coming-over, like it did the summer Trish worked at Mickey D's. I'm also Leery of starting jealousy between the 2 -- & paranoia. Car-girl has been teaching my wife sign language, but she's taking June off -- & Kimothy usually goes to Oreo-gone for the summer, so nothing might happen until everybody's back from vacation.

I look forward to a day with my wife. She has an appointment with Charlene at 10:00, after which we'll be making a stop-over at the Layout. Then to the bank; we have to buy some foil to bake a No-Bake with. They're only 3 buckadingdongs over at Wally World.

Little Lucinda, if you are reading this, please know that I'm happy with my Bumble Bee Girl. Scientologists, if you are reading this, please be advised that Scientology kills!

just another porno Friday...

...she's foxy & forty.

So I spent most of my free time on the 1st working on "Galaxies". I decided to do a rather thorough edit, but have actually only taken a few thousand words out. That will change today. Today the EVA goes -- the crew goes straight from sex to subject, with a few hallucinations thrown in -- something Stan might well approve; one Critter cussed me out for "hallucinations, & even worse, hallucinations within hallucinations"; yeah, right -- Veeder: "The problem with sceince fiction is insufficient amounts of ambiguity". When something really good, chock-full of ambiguity, like The Mind-Warp Era emerges, it doesn't-sell in droges. My next step in resurrecting it from the dead, besides blowjobs, will be to cut back on SF cliches -- Harry Canyon -- & moving the story back into psychological causation -- & write The Bio-Psych Wars; also intended for Analog as a possible serial.

Besides all this real atomic mind-storming, Fred came by, to craft the bed downstairs into recognizable form; it's not made of gnometal. Future primitive... medieval? Then there are these acid alchemists on the other side.

Trish had her TA with Car-girl around 3:00. She walked home at 2:00; the Invisible Pizza Hut keeps cutting her hours. Say Bra, increased minimum wage. I went with the 2 to the Invisible Credit Union, where we took out some buckadingdongs for shopping & the weekend; & to the Invisible Clinic for free samples of Viagra.

When Trish got home, we ordered out a 1/2-price pizza; pepperoni on one side, Canadian bacon on the other. Since Trish (fears &) loathes pepperoni, I opted for nummy treats, at least this once.

After supper I fooled around with my tape deck for awhile. It screwed up on Yes' Keys to Ascension, but didn't on the other tapes I tried.

Then I screwed my wife, after taking a paltry 50 mg.s of Viagra. Leading into it, I looked up some free Internet porn, a lot of it lesbian stuff: kissing, boobs, large, pointy, all number among the keywords. The sex itself was a little lackluster for Viagra, but the tit fucking had me cumming all over her boobs. This is certainly a better deal than all the Vadisadism I had to put up with in the City of Night. (No, Colleen, there aren't any "mistakes".)

Today promises to be a hot one. We had our a/c running on low all night. I woke up at 4:00 -- the Ooga-Chugga Religion kicked my mania back in -- so I stayed in bed, slept a little until 5:00, went to the bathroom, turned off the a/c, turned it back on around 6:00 & got up. I think I need to go back up to 600 mg.s of Seroquel.

But I will still look up the Magic Bust & the million silver stars that guide me with their light.

set the controls for the heart of the sun...

...the song title, Pink Floyd's onslaught on reality commences: psychedelic & 60s, acid warriors.

Acid: a much maligned drug, something that generates mystical experience: last nite, surfing the TV, we saw a History Channel documentary about "drugs": Exstasy, LSD. The former, they were at least partway defending, but acid still got the axe as too "dangerous" -- OK, so if it's not under controlled conditions, it is, but with attention to set & setting, it can transcend the mind-desolation, bitter rejection of Rachel German.

Of course, beyond the occasional envelope, the nutmeg binge, even the healing herb, I've done little in the way of drugs since Ted & I crafter the first excerpts of "Trinities". Were the DEA's hands tied in arresting medical marijuana patients in Montana, I'd opt for the atomic bong -- no, Gloria, there's nothing wrong with "doing drugs"; it certainly isn't "sloppy".

Had no chance to work on GCF yesterday. Began with the LAC meeting in the Iron Claw Clinic, then to Pizza Hut with Car-girl. Leftover sketti for supper; Trish wants a pizza tonite -- & we still have to move the futon down in the basement -- I'll see if I can get to putting it together today, with Fred's help.

So perhaps no time to write today, either. I've thought of a way of abridging TC into a 2001-style first contact-thing. I'll keep 2 versions. Sex/drugs scene stays, though, no matter what Georgia says.