Pages uploaded and posted to private.

dramady has called me out, and I need your help. I'm looking for pictures of the lump. You know, THE lump on the back of MR's head featured in many SV fics.

You see, she teases me about the lump. She considers it unattractive. And because I have no pictures of it on my hard drive? She says I'm not a true fan. Not a true fan. I still watch SV. At this crappy point in the series? Bothering to show up on Thursday nights makes me a true fan. I'm dedicated, I tell ya.

But back to the lump. Clark makes it erotic, so please... show her the beauty of the lump. Its boldness. Its beauty. Its flavor. Smooth to the tongue. Soft to the touch. Hard beneath. Post any pictures or fic references you have in comments. We'll bring her to the dark side of the lump.

*mumbles* Not a true fan *mumbles*

Anniversary dinner in a few minutes. Reservations at my favorite local restaurant.

Echo of dramady: I have to go back to work tomorrow. Blech.

Just made a vegetarian carrot soup with a simple base of olive oil, onions and garlic. It also has lemon juice, basil, and soy sauce.
ETA: Sea salt, black pepper, crushed red pepper. Duh! Why did I forget to mention those? The last explains the spicey flavor.

After I cooked it all down and blended, it tasted spicey, but it reminded me too much of baby food. The carrots overwhelmed it, I think. So I thought, "brandy." Got the brandy down. Sniffed it. Sniffed the soup. Said, "I don't think so." Got the rum down. Sniffed both. Said, "Yes." And it worked. Now the carrot flavor has backed way off, bringing up the spice, the onion, and the lemon. I don't taste the rum at all, but it's much better. It's actually a very good soup all of a sudden. I don't understand how these things work. I'm just glad when they do.

This morning I made and stored black-eyed peas. Not sure if I posted that earlier.

Four pages written and posted to "private," and I'm feeling intrigued by what these people are thinking/feeling/doing. I'm feeling joy. I'm liking this. Glad I'm at it again.

This happens when the child’s vacation coincides with one’s own. “Mom? Whatcha doin’?” Mom explains the four pages per day plan, so daughter gets out her laptop to monkey see, monkey do. And writes. A story. She’s hit her four pages. Don’t ask about my progress. We’ve been at this all day, with her reading to me every time she finishes a paragraph.

She’s writing about a war between robots and fairies, though she thinks she may drop the fairies and go with a war between robots and humans. Her protagonist’s name is Gilda. Ah the workings of the subconscious after seeing Rigoletto.

But I write on my bed-desk, and she’s sitting right beside me, writing away on her dad’s side of the bed. It feels… invasive. I should express pride, and I am proud, but I’m also private. I like to write alone and in the quiet. I like to think I won’t have to censor myself because a child might (will) glance over at my screen.

Why don’t I chase her out of here? Because if she wants to write, there’s no way I’ll do anything to threaten that impulse. She stays.

However, I’m doing some good outlining and character sketching, so… production. Okay. And I can outlast her. She’ll get put to bed eventually.

Don't ask about the man in the living room practicing his trumpet while the football game blasts in the background.

What distractions? I eat distractions for breakfast.

ETA: Hurray! She's wandered off to bug her dad, and I've anagrammed a character name. Much fun.

ETA: Mission accomplished 4 hours earlier than yesterday. 4 pages done, and painlessly once child occupied herself elsewhere. Character from an older story reconceived and with that character perhaps the story as well. We'll see. Writing feels fun again tonight.

I resolve to write more prose this year, and to do so using the private function on my lj. While you won't see this work, at least I will do it. Goal -- 4 pages of prose per day no matter what it is. I begin simply today with a journal entry about my writing process. I write it with all of you in mind as audience, but without showing it to you.

It's an enlightening bit of soul-searching, and it's the kind of assignment which allows me to succeed. I can do this. I can write prose again.

ETA: I'm surprisingly good at keeping New Year's Resolutions, btw.

ETA: I realize I made something close to the same resolution a couple of years back and succeeded with it. Don't remember why I lapsed, but the interim has hurt. I'm struggling to make my four pages here on the first day. I'm up to three, but experiencing all kinds of self doubt. Shit. I've always said I'm a poet, not a writer. Otoh, Jenn argued a long while ago I'm also a novelist who just hasn't written a first novel yet. I'd like to make her assessment finally come true. One more page. I can do this.

ETA: A scene. I have a scene, and it's starting to finally write itself. That's what I miss. The not trying. The letting it say what it wants to say. The flow, and you don't remember after that you had to DO anything. It just speaks.

I've pulled the following from yesterday's entry to track my progress. I start late today, but I finished the last dish at 12:30 a.m., so I'm moving slowly. I also have a party to attend tonight. Who knows how much I can accomplish today or tomorrow? It's the same party I attended last year, when I came home at 5:00 a.m. smelling like a city bus stop. Perhaps a little self control is in order this time.

What I've made and stashed in the freezer so far:
Pot Roast
Pakistani Chicken
Tortilla Soup
Minestrone
Tomato Basil Soup
Baked Mustard Chicken
ETA: Giada's Artichoke Soup
ETA: Shrimp Etouffe
ETA: Coq au Vin

What I have yet to make:
Greek Lemon Soup (Again, does anyone know how it freezes?)
Chicken Cacciatore

I have three pounds of shrimp to get through, so I'll make other shrimp dishes as they occur to me. The same goes for chicken and vegetables. I hadn't planned the Minestrone or the Baked Mustard Chicken, but when I thought of them I realized they'd freeze well. I expect to continue improvising like that.

ETA: Shrimp and chicken all gone. Will return to the store. Cooking finished for the day. Almost time to go out.

We've received email notifying us one of our bags is on the way. I hope it's the one with daughter's Christmas presents. :)

ETA: The other bag is coming, too. *sigh*