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Nature's Harvest
Nov. 2nd, 2005 10:03 pmI just learned that the part of HEB which I refer to as "the hippie section" is officially called "Nature's Harvest." This is the section with vegetarian foods, bulk foods, organic foods, foods from animals treated better than average, etc. So the rest of the store is what? Harvest from places other than Nature? But I guess is there is no good name for that part of the store that doesn't imply something worse for the rest of the store except "Higher Prices."
Nanowrimo Update
Yesterday I wrote some more after my journal update, bringing my total up to 2277.
Today: 2389 words, 4.4 hours, 542 words per hour (with no research!), 9% complete, 85 writing hours left.
So, I'm still ahead, which is good because I won't have time for much of anything tomorrow. And this weekend I'm going to Dallas.
I know we're not supposed to be critical of our work at this point, but I just can't help noticing the content as I'm typing for some reason. If your author is yawning and fantasizing about napping, it might not be a good book. Seriously, if you are having trouble sleeping, just write a little bit of my novel and you will fall right to sleep.
I'm very easily distractable, too, like a naughty child. Oh, a good song is playing. Oh, my legs are aching. Oh, I'm too hungry to think of anything but food.
Chikuru and I were talking about editing during nanowrimo. He was thinking you never delete anything. I was thinking I can't even get a sentence down sometimes without having to delete part of it. I told him I was planning to allow myself to edit anything I'd worked on that day and maybe anything from the previous day. That was when I thought I might want to re-read what I had written the day before to get me into the mood. But so far there has been no such temptation. I don't want to be in that mood!
Today, most of my writing was not quite so horrifyingly boring as yesterday, but still unsatisfying. Still I managed a couple of paragraphs I don't mind sharing:
Later in the story:
Nanowrimo Update
Yesterday I wrote some more after my journal update, bringing my total up to 2277.
Today: 2389 words, 4.4 hours, 542 words per hour (with no research!), 9% complete, 85 writing hours left.
So, I'm still ahead, which is good because I won't have time for much of anything tomorrow. And this weekend I'm going to Dallas.
I know we're not supposed to be critical of our work at this point, but I just can't help noticing the content as I'm typing for some reason. If your author is yawning and fantasizing about napping, it might not be a good book. Seriously, if you are having trouble sleeping, just write a little bit of my novel and you will fall right to sleep.
I'm very easily distractable, too, like a naughty child. Oh, a good song is playing. Oh, my legs are aching. Oh, I'm too hungry to think of anything but food.
Chikuru and I were talking about editing during nanowrimo. He was thinking you never delete anything. I was thinking I can't even get a sentence down sometimes without having to delete part of it. I told him I was planning to allow myself to edit anything I'd worked on that day and maybe anything from the previous day. That was when I thought I might want to re-read what I had written the day before to get me into the mood. But so far there has been no such temptation. I don't want to be in that mood!
Today, most of my writing was not quite so horrifyingly boring as yesterday, but still unsatisfying. Still I managed a couple of paragraphs I don't mind sharing:
Heather entered [the house]. Holy cactus, Batman, he looks like a cowboy. Probably six foot two, side burns, totally built. Must not stare at the cowboy. She looked around. I'll stare at his poodle instead. "And who's this?"
Later in the story:
Fluffy heard suspicious sounds at the door. Then a key and the door opening. It was she of the fireplace smoke fragrance from yesterday. Goody! She let him sniff her hand again. He'd rather sniff her butt, but he was getting too old to be jumping up like that anymore. Humans do often stick their hands in interesting places, so it could be worse. He got a nice but all-too-brief behind-the-ear scratching from her.