As of shortly after 7am (MDT), all scenes for Chapter 2 are finally committed to the manuscript.
I tend to work on scenes piecemeal, having broken down the chapter into the events which need to occur to move the story forward, and then refining that into the appropriate narrative context and voicing for the characters and what have you. Usually a small text file for each, edited on the PDA or whatever machine I can get to. Stitching these together and officially adding them to the manuscript document (OpenOffice - don't trust MS Word with something of this magnitude) always leaves me with a little hesitation - once in this form, massive edits become more like reconstructive surgery than sculpting, and is likely to be far messier.
It's done, though, which still sees me making progress of a sort (however slowly). I've allowed a lot of things to interfere with the pace of my writing, and in hindsight I don't know if that's a bad choice.
I'll just keep doing what I can for now, and hopefully the work won't suffer too much as a result.
Cheers!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Best Noise Ever
First: an apology. I have several articles in the works, but none that I've had the time and concentration to bring to fruition and post. So this is a simple non-sequitor.
Back in the day when Mike and I shared an office, we tried to lighten the effects of stressful duties by taking time now and then for chess (taking a break from thinking to do other thinking - a lot of people didn't get this). Mike is good, and well read on the subject - he'll deny this, but only because the volume of works he's digested on the subject is < 1% of works available on the subject; but this still puts him ahead of 99.025% of the population. And he practices.
It was his interest to cultivate a worthy opponent, someone capable of presenting a challenge for him as he sought to master the various principles he studied. This means he also distilled the theory behind those principles and gave me some excellent tutoring as I tried like mad to keep up. Eventually I learned the subtleties of the playing field beyond the simple list of moves I'd always been aware of prior. Having a patient and skilled opponent was an excellent experience for myself, and I eagerly soaked it up.
So it was that we had a chess table in the office. At first this was a simple pedestal supporting a shallow box with a "3-1" style game board and sundry pieces within to support the same. The set was glass Staunton, attractive and simple. Being on a pedestal, however, and in a fairly small room, it frequently met with casual impact and predictable results. Most if it was inconsequential, a game aborted and pieces scattered. Finally, the shallow tray broke from its column (it was sat on, as someone adopted a squatting stance during conversation unaware of it behind them) and a pawn was decapitated.
It was replaced with a slightly larger de-coupled version - same clear/frosted motif of glass Staunton, but now free-standing. We assembled some decommissioned servers to hold it up, but it wasn't a terribly good fit (it needed to be on its own as we couldn't sacrifice the desk space). Eventually we happened upon the perfect item: a Foundry BigIron 8000 Switch (fully populated). This $250,000 (at the time) chunk of hardware was intended to be used by the company after moving to a larger building across the parking lot. While said building was still under construction, the switch was stored in the NOC general office. It was with their blessing that I purloined it for my own use, promising to turn the sensitive bits toward the wall and be very nice to it generally.
And it really was perfect - just the right size for the board and captured pieces on either side, black and somewhat imposing with an overtly technical aire about it. It was also solid enough to be unaffected by a casual bump, and obviously important enough not to receive a hard one.
Times were good, and the chess continued.
Then one day, in walks the CTO. He had apparently not been aware of the storage arrangements I'd made with the NOC, and stopped mid-sentence when he noticed what was serving as our table.
"Is that a...!"
This man is capable of firing off a pretty hefty blue-streak, and did so with such frequency that he liked to make sure incoming candidates in IT could take it. He would burst in during interviews, let something colorful about the current state of operations fly, and violate many an HR clause in the process; solely to ensure that they'd survive there if offered the position later.
In this case, he was speechless. I guess there was a "G" sound from somewhere in his throat near the beginning, and most of the vowels were a derivative of the letter "A", but that doesn't adequately describe what came out of him. And it wasn't just what was said, either - he took an involuntary step backward, eyes widening, face contorting into mortification and grief, and arms raising defensively.
He strode quickly out of the office and utterly refused to set foot in it again while we remained in that building (another six months).
I miss that chess table.
Back in the day when Mike and I shared an office, we tried to lighten the effects of stressful duties by taking time now and then for chess (taking a break from thinking to do other thinking - a lot of people didn't get this). Mike is good, and well read on the subject - he'll deny this, but only because the volume of works he's digested on the subject is < 1% of works available on the subject; but this still puts him ahead of 99.025% of the population. And he practices.
It was his interest to cultivate a worthy opponent, someone capable of presenting a challenge for him as he sought to master the various principles he studied. This means he also distilled the theory behind those principles and gave me some excellent tutoring as I tried like mad to keep up. Eventually I learned the subtleties of the playing field beyond the simple list of moves I'd always been aware of prior. Having a patient and skilled opponent was an excellent experience for myself, and I eagerly soaked it up.
So it was that we had a chess table in the office. At first this was a simple pedestal supporting a shallow box with a "3-1" style game board and sundry pieces within to support the same. The set was glass Staunton, attractive and simple. Being on a pedestal, however, and in a fairly small room, it frequently met with casual impact and predictable results. Most if it was inconsequential, a game aborted and pieces scattered. Finally, the shallow tray broke from its column (it was sat on, as someone adopted a squatting stance during conversation unaware of it behind them) and a pawn was decapitated.
It was replaced with a slightly larger de-coupled version - same clear/frosted motif of glass Staunton, but now free-standing. We assembled some decommissioned servers to hold it up, but it wasn't a terribly good fit (it needed to be on its own as we couldn't sacrifice the desk space). Eventually we happened upon the perfect item: a Foundry BigIron 8000 Switch (fully populated). This $250,000 (at the time) chunk of hardware was intended to be used by the company after moving to a larger building across the parking lot. While said building was still under construction, the switch was stored in the NOC general office. It was with their blessing that I purloined it for my own use, promising to turn the sensitive bits toward the wall and be very nice to it generally.
And it really was perfect - just the right size for the board and captured pieces on either side, black and somewhat imposing with an overtly technical aire about it. It was also solid enough to be unaffected by a casual bump, and obviously important enough not to receive a hard one.
Times were good, and the chess continued.
Then one day, in walks the CTO. He had apparently not been aware of the storage arrangements I'd made with the NOC, and stopped mid-sentence when he noticed what was serving as our table.
"Is that a...
This man is capable of firing off a pretty hefty blue-streak, and did so with such frequency that he liked to make sure incoming candidates in IT could take it. He would burst in during interviews, let something colorful about the current state of operations fly, and violate many an HR clause in the process; solely to ensure that they'd survive there if offered the position later.
In this case, he was speechless. I guess there was a "G" sound from somewhere in his throat near the beginning, and most of the vowels were a derivative of the letter "A", but that doesn't adequately describe what came out of him. And it wasn't just what was said, either - he took an involuntary step backward, eyes widening, face contorting into mortification and grief, and arms raising defensively.
He strode quickly out of the office and utterly refused to set foot in it again while we remained in that building (another six months).
I miss that chess table.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Back
I've accepted an offer, and assuming all goes well with the paperwork I'll be starting on the 29th (right after the Memorial Day holiday). I have the next ~2 weeks to spend with family, and barely a care in the world.
And last night - I resumed work on the book.
Life is good. Better than I deserve.
And last night - I resumed work on the book.
Life is good. Better than I deserve.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Updates, generally.
I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while. I have an excuse, but that always makes the apology seem less sincere, as tough it's followed on its heels with, "but I shouldn't have to be." I'll tell you what it is anyway. Not to excuse myself, I suppose, but maybe let you know how I've been. And I'll still be sorry.
The writing was a big deal, of course - for some time I was allowing the novel to consume all time not spent at work or tending to family matters. Then we were all hit by The Cold.
For over a month it took its turn rotating through the household, a long incubation followed by a 2 1/2 weeks of progressively miserable symptoms. By the time I personally finished with it, I was tending the afflicted and helping reduce the strain on my dear wife. See, by this time in the year, what with young kids and all, I only had 1 sick day left; we were loathe to use it all up by March or April.
After The Cold, family things seemed to stay busy - even the book began to languish somewhat, which is unfortunate because my health and cognitive outlook have been steadily improving and I'm really in a place now where I could probably make some serious progress. I'm pretty sure I was about to try, rededicate my efforts when the Reduction In Force showed up.
I have nothing disparaging to say about United Online or its various offshoots. They run the company well, the culture and environment are wonderful, and I highly recommend that if ever one has an opportunity to work with or for them, to go for it.
It just so happens that our division is trying to make sales of technology services to consumers at large. The offerings haven't been appreciably updated in the last 5-6 years, and the web has really grown up around them. Times are tough, revenues are slipping, and that means one or more of the following: find new revenue streams, reduce expenses, tough it out, or quit. They're trying to see if A & B can help with C.
This happened half-way through April. I've been busy with some contract work for a while and really only just beginning the search for new employment when it's already over; just like that.
I have an offer I'm considering - not a bad one at all - and am hoping to get one more early this week. Regardless, the family is OK, the career is OK, and hopefully writing (novel, journal, and here) will also be OK.
I'll let you know.
The writing was a big deal, of course - for some time I was allowing the novel to consume all time not spent at work or tending to family matters. Then we were all hit by The Cold.
For over a month it took its turn rotating through the household, a long incubation followed by a 2 1/2 weeks of progressively miserable symptoms. By the time I personally finished with it, I was tending the afflicted and helping reduce the strain on my dear wife. See, by this time in the year, what with young kids and all, I only had 1 sick day left; we were loathe to use it all up by March or April.
After The Cold, family things seemed to stay busy - even the book began to languish somewhat, which is unfortunate because my health and cognitive outlook have been steadily improving and I'm really in a place now where I could probably make some serious progress. I'm pretty sure I was about to try, rededicate my efforts when the Reduction In Force showed up.
I have nothing disparaging to say about United Online or its various offshoots. They run the company well, the culture and environment are wonderful, and I highly recommend that if ever one has an opportunity to work with or for them, to go for it.
It just so happens that our division is trying to make sales of technology services to consumers at large. The offerings haven't been appreciably updated in the last 5-6 years, and the web has really grown up around them. Times are tough, revenues are slipping, and that means one or more of the following: find new revenue streams, reduce expenses, tough it out, or quit. They're trying to see if A & B can help with C.
This happened half-way through April. I've been busy with some contract work for a while and really only just beginning the search for new employment when it's already over; just like that.
I have an offer I'm considering - not a bad one at all - and am hoping to get one more early this week. Regardless, the family is OK, the career is OK, and hopefully writing (novel, journal, and here) will also be OK.
I'll let you know.
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