Sunday, January 8, 2012

Sunday morning

Good morning,

It's Sunday.

Raining.

Rain makes for a not so thrilled Greyhound. It's not so rainy that he can't go for a gallop at the usual place though. Once we're ready and he sees his bag (yes, he has a bag that contains his muzzle, first aid kit, doggie poop bags, water bottle, and treats.) then he'll be super excited.

Might be able to leave the kids at home with The Boy Wonder - Breezy is sounding sick she even said her throat is sore. She doesn't usually say when it's sore because she doesn't usually notice.

Last night I was reading Flashbyte - looking for things that shouldn't be there. I found missing words! No clue where they went. But several sentences no longer made sense because words had been deleted. And a few more no longer made sense because commas were in the wrong place. I don't think it happened in the merge but it could have.
Oh well, it's not the final version yet anyway. And Jayne has the ms back so no doubt she'll find the same oddness I found!
Now I need to remember what was surrounding the oddities so I can pull the ms up on the laptop and fix them! The only problem reading on Kindle is the pages don't match up to the laptop!!

So far this year it has been slow going writing wise. In fact, so slow, I haven't done any. I don't feel like writing at the moment plus it is very hard to concentrate with the kids home.
I did notice yesterday that ideas were starting to form and I was thinking about scenes etc, so there is hope that sometime this year I will write!

I'd like to get this kiwi novel finished. When I say like I don't actually mean like, I mean I should get it finished. I want to like it. I really want to like it. And I've tried hard to love the characters - who are very cool and a lot of fun... but I can't seem to love them like I do the Byte Series characters.

Maybe if I share some of it with you - it will help me like it more?

Wherefore Art Thou - an excerpt from chapter one.


My email program beeped at me. Fifteen new emails. Seemed a bit crazy. Scrolling through them both amused me and terrified me. Someone, let’s blame my cousin Donald, had set Nana up an email account. Great. That’s what I need spam from my ninety-four year old Nana.

Maybe if I didn’t reply, she’d think she got the address wrong and give up? Another four emails arrived within seconds from Nana. I groaned.

All the subjects were ‘Is this working?’ Ignoring them was clearly not an option.

I picked up my cell phone and text Donald. What have you done?

He replied while I was reading all the mail from Nana. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

And yet I think he does know. I’m talking about Nana emailing me. How is this possible?

The emails were almost identical in content. Nana wanted Romeo and I to visit today. Great, I was already planning on seeing her at midday.

My phone chirped again. Donald replied. I gave her my old laptop. Thought she’d enjoy the wireless internet they have at the retirement home.

No, he didn’t think. No thought happened there. Another email arrived. I replied to Nana and told her Romeo and I would be there at midday. Then I replied to Donald and told him he’d keep. A nana with email capability was not ideal.

For the next hour, I wrote a report for a client. It was a happy report to write. The woman hired me to find her long lost aunt. I found the aunt, arranged first contact and my job was done. Time for the invoice and report.

I emailed the documents and deleted another ten emails from Nana. I think she’d found her new hobby. Before I knew it I was praying that she’d use her knew found power for good and not for the continual harassment of me. More emails rolled in. I cast my eyes to the ceiling.

“Okay, God, here’s the thing, I know you don’t micro-manage but this is an extraordinary situation, my ninety-four year old Nana should not be using email to annoy the bejesus out of me, a little laptop smiting would go a long way about now.”

I sent a quick reply email to Nana’s last tome saying I wouldn’t be near my computer for the rest of the morning. Lightening didn’t strike me down, on some level that surprised me.


copyright Cat Connor 2010-2012

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