I spent a lot of this past weekend with earphones in. I was listening to hours and hours of research material for the short story I started this morning. Got 1000 words done, too, though I’m fairly sure none of it will survive in exactly that form. I have only about four weeks to get a handle on this thing, so I’ve got to get off the research wagon and onto the word processor again.
While I was cogitating over this short story, I had an idea for a novel that uses a lot of the same material. I even came up with the loose framework of what I consider to be a fairly unique structure for the book. I was getting all excited, and thinking that would be the next thing I tackled.
Then I got an e-mail from my agent this week, who read my most recent manuscript and delivered a couple of pages of notes about how he thinks the book could be strengthened to make it marketable. It’s not the book he’s currently showing around, but rather the NaNoWriMo novel that I sent him at the beginning of the year.
Although I really like the novel, I wasn’t thinking about tackling it again. I was considering tackling this new project. Eager to tackle it, in fact. But my agent thinks the second novel has possibilities and agrees with me that it’s a more commercial book than the previous one. So, now I have to dampen my enthusiasm for the new project, put it on the back burner, and hack away at Ghost Inn again. He’s given me a lot to think about with the manuscript, and it’s going to be a big job to whip it into shape, so I can’t just pile into it today and get to work.
Not that I’m upset or anything—the fact that my literary agent thinks a book has a lot of possibility (he wasn’t as enthusiastic about my 2005 NaNoWriMo book) is a good thing. It’s just a shift of gears, is all.
I didn’t make a big deal about Lent this year, but I did abstain from something. I’m not religious, but I sometimes use Lent as an excuse to change something. My weight has been fairly stable over the past decade or so, and I exercise at the gym frequently enough to keep it in the zone where I’m most comfortable. But in February I noticed that I’d crept up a few pounds. Okay, four pounds. Doesn’t seem like a lot, but I was already at the high end of my comfort zone before that sudden increase. So I decided to give up all snacks between meals. That meant primarily the potato chips I like to munch on while watching TV. Cold turkey. I allowed myself chips with sandwiches at lunch, and granola bars at work if I got peckish in the afternoon, and popsicles when necessary in the evenings to fend off the urge to eat. And I stuck to it. Net result: eight pounds. I’m now four pounds below that high end of my comfort zone, right smack dab where I need to be.
So, yesterday I had a chocolate Easter bunny and a bag of chips and gained it all back. No, not really, but that was the nightmare I anticipated when I stepped on the scales this morning. I’m going to try to keep up with the “no snacks” rule, but not if it means I keep on losing weight, because I no longer need or want to lose any more.
We watched Man of the Year with Robin Williams and Christopher Walken on Friday. A Jon Stewart-like political comic runs for president. Not a bad film, but it lost some of its charisma halfway through. Laura Linney was nice, and Walken is always fun to look at, but I could feel the energy evaporating. Nothing I can put my finger on, but… An okay movie, that’s all.
After a few weeks without any climate control on in the house at all—though I was close to switching it over to A/C—I had to run the heat this weekend. Temps in the high 30s at night, cold rains and temps barely reaching 50 in the daytime. I liked it, except when it rained. Cold rain is no fun.
