And a bit from the book.

I’m feeling rather gregarious, so here’s a bit from the book in progress.  This is from early on, maybe chapter 3 or so.  Irene is our main female character, and Marie is one of her good friends.  They are traveling back from the high school basketball tournament in Pocatello where they have spent two days “supporting the team” in pep band, though mostly just hanging out, waiting for the next game.

“Spill it.” Marie plopped down on the empty seat next to Irene for the ride back.  The tournament was a bust.  The basketball team had headed immediately for the losers bracket, and then to the bottom of the losers bracket, making each game a bit more doleful than the last.  Even the presence of the pep band could not pep the team—or its crowds—to much in the way of enthusiasm, much less winning a game. 
Marie was the only other female saxophone and normally would have been her partner in crime for the trip, but she was preoccupied with brokering a peace accord between Karen and her now ex-Jason and she herself had recently taken up with different Jason, this one a tuba player, so had been running with the brass crowd.  With Irene hanging out with the drummers, they hadn’t crossed paths much during the trip, but Marie had a keen eye and a good ear for gossip and Eddie’s constant hovering near Irene had not gone unnoted.
“What do you know?” Irene asked her, searching for dirt.
“Do you want to know the wild, unsubstantiated rumor; the one I heard and believe, or the facts I, myself have observed.” She spoke in a low voice, conscious of the people around them.  Marie could ferret out the secrets, but she also knew how to keep them to herself.
“Must I choose?” Irene grinned.  The two of them had been friends since junior high and knew each other’s ways.
“Good point.” Marie agreed.  “Let’s start with the wild rumor. You, Irene Johansen, snuck into Alex’s room and engaged in various forms of congress with all four drummers staying there.”
“Ugh.” Irene protested.  “Not Alex’s room.  Stefan ended up in Alex’s room, no way would there be congress of any kind happening there. Not even general passage of legislation.” Stefan was the lumpy and slow male cymbal player.
“Ah, so there would be with Alex.” Marie pushed a bit, curious.  She didn’t really understand Irene and Alex.  They always seemed like friends who were on the verge of fighting.  But something also seemed to indicate they were on the verge of—well not love, exactly.  Maybe a physical consummation of some sort?  Both kept their feelings confined, so even Marie’s best reconnaissance had left her with confusing data.
Irene made a face, thinking of Alex and various forms congress. “Not going to happen.  Who starts those rumors, anyway?  Let’s move on to what you do believe.”
“I heard that Eddie has a thing for you.”
“And?”
“And that’s what I heard.” Marie said.
Irene sighed.  Marie was holding out.

“Let’s move on to what you’ve observed.” Irene said, deflecting the request.
Marie gave her a look. “I’ve noticed that Eddie has never been more than 10 feet from you this entire trip.” she counted one on her finger. “I’ve noticed that even right now he is not more than 10 feet from you.” She counted two while Irene leaned past Marie to scan the bus. Eddie was sitting one seat behind and across the aisle.  He and Alex were working out a complex rhythm, softly beating their drumsticks on their legs.”
“I’m willing to bet,” Marie continued, counting off another finger, “that he looks over to check on you before I hit one.” She began counting down,  ”Five.  Four, Three, Two.”
Dammit.  Right as Marie hit the number two, Eddie looked up, caught Irene looking at him and smiled at her. Irene smiled back and ducked down again.
“Furthermore,” Marie counted off her last finger “I’ve noticed how much you’ve been flirting with him this weekend.”
“I have not.” Irene protested.  She had hardly talked to him, since they had the conversation on the way there about joining drum corps for marching band.
Marie fixed her best stare on Irene. “Please, lady.  I know you.  The hair flipping has amped up, plus, I haven’t been too far away to see the sideways glances you favor and the cheery waves you’ve been dispersing all weekend.”
Irene rolled her eyes, caught.
“What I want to know,” Marie leaned closer. “is do you like him?”
Irene sighed, and kicked the back of her seat a few times, thinking. “Maybe?”
“He’s a drummer,” Marie countered “You have to give me more than a maybe.”  Marie and Irene had fought back against the drummers through most of the marching band season.  They didn’t like the drummers’ attitudes, their inflated egos and their bossiness.  The two of them had done a pretty good job making themselves pains in the asses of the entire percussion section.  Irene’s feelings had changed a bit as the months had passed, mostly paved by Alex.  Marie wasn’t really convinced drummers were okay.  Her head had been turned by the shiny volume of the brass section, working her way from trumpet to trombone to now tuba.
Irene thought a bit.  “I don’t not like him.” she said slowly, “but I’m not sure if I like him because he likes me, or because I like him.  I don’t really know him very well.”
Marie squinted one eye and observed her.  “So we need to shrink the group a bit, I think.”
“What do you mean?
“I mean, your group is too big, he can’t get a word in edgewise.  You should have a few people, like no more than five, over to your house and see what he does.”
“I don’t know,” Irene hedged.  “Maybe I want to find out if he likes me.”
“Oh he likes you.” Marie said, glancing over her shoulder and catching Eddie peering past Alex again.

“Well, then,” said Irene.  “Maybe we should wait and find out what his next move is.”

How’s it goin’?

As you may recall, I’ve taken a break from writing essays so I can focus on writing 500 words per day in November and December of the novel I am working on.  Here’s an update on my progress.

I’ve missed two days.  One was Thanksgiving, which had me going from 6:15 in the morning to 9:30 at night.  In all that activity, I completely forgot to write. I woke up suddenly at 11:30 the night of Thanksgiving, was stricken by breaking my streak, and then decided to stay in bed instead of hauling myself out to bang out 500 words.  The other day was a game night we hosted.  I miscalculated just how long the gaming would go on.  It was a very long and hard day, and by the time it was 11:15 and I had the choice of writing or bed, I chose bed.  In general, it has been no trouble to find the time to write, though Fridays and weekends are more difficult because my time is not as scheduled as on the other days of the week.  I’ve had a few sessions of cranking out the words and then going straight to bed because of this.

I’ve done a good job of meeting my words written per day goal of 500 words.  Only one day did I write exactly 500 words, every other day I wrote, I exceeded the goal, including one day where I wrote 3400 words.  I was suspicious of that outlier, but I went back and double checked and indeed, I churned that day.
By far my usual practice is to write 500-599 words.  I did so on 21 days.  The next most common is 600 words, happening on 6 days and then 700 words (5) days.  From there we step down to 1 to 2 occurrences.
All that writing is adding up.  When I set my goal of 500 words per day, I accepted the fact that I would “only” have 48,000 words by December 31.  This was seen as lesser achievement because in order to “win” National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) you need to write 50,000 words between November 1 and  November 31.  I was beginning with a bank of 17,000 words and taking two months and still coming up short.  But I’m happy to report that exceeded my original writing goal on December 11 and I crossed over the 50,000 word mark on December 13.  
Overall, I’m quite pleased with my progress.  The book is still fun to write, I’m chugging along and the rest of my life hasn’t been thrown out of control.  Plus I get to make nerdy Excel charts as explanation.  Win-win.

Three sentence movie reviews: Step Up 2: The Streets.

When watching the Step Up* movies, I find it best to turn off the racial filter because really, the mostly white kids are going to best the mostly of color kids at their own game, really?  That said, this is an enjoyable dance movie, which is to say that the plot is incredibly predictable, some of the acting is horrendous and it doesn’t really matter because there is enough dance to make it fun.  The leads are fine with Robert Hoffman all wide-eyed and shiny and Briana Evans all snarly girl with a heart of gold.

Cost:  free from library
Where watched:  at home

*I enjoyed calling this movie, “Step Up Two Colon The Streets.”

Channing Tatum report.  Indeed, he has a bit part, just as I assumed.  However!  Said bit part (about 5 minutes total) also consists of CT dancing!  Using trampolines.  Becuase all the cool clubs have trampolines.  I guess? His dance was total CT and had an ending that made me squeal with delight.  And yes, I actually squealed.

Confusing messages in packaging

I had a total impulse buying moment at Powell’s today.  And all stuff for me.  It’s the worst.

But anyway. I was seduced by this Tangle Art kit, inspired by Zentangle, which I learned about through Postcrossing.
 

On the front there is talk of a 40-page book!
 
On the back, it has become a 33 page book.  Plus 7 blank sketchbook pages.
 

Cold

Like I mentioned in the killing frost post, it’s been cold here.  And it doesn’t really get this cold here.  But temperatures insist on hovering in the 20s.  Here’s the thing about unseasonably (I should be using a word that means weather-not-in-the-normal-temperature-range.  Is there such a word?) cold weather.  We don’t have the proper wardrobe.  Pants are the big problem.  Normally, in Portland, I just wear the same kind of pants year round.  They serve me through the “heat” of summer and the “cold” of winter.  I’ve lived in places where it really does get cold and let me tell you, I had a separate part of my closet for winter pants.  But here it doesn’t make sense to do so.  The result is that I walk around with very cold legs until things return to normal.

But look!
 

Winter weather is also quite pretty!
 

Home

From a series in the Oregonian about US 26:

“This is where the rubber hits the road.  This to me is what eastern Oregon is all about.  This is where you can picture pioneers slogging through the desert, running low on water and wondering how much longer it will take.  This is a very lonely section of the road before arriving in Vale close to the Idaho border.”  Thomas Boyd.

Or, as I call it:  home.