Plaques of cloud blaze against the silvered haze of the summer sky. The island is a blue ghost lurking in the humidity on the ocean. Close by, I can see the water glitter, but out near the point, the reflections smudge together so the whole sea looks white. Waves and the wakes of boats lay dashes of shadow into that brightness that remind me of diffraction patterns. A handful of sailboats scatter the bay, each tilting its own direction. The moss growing on a nearby rooftop has thrust up a thicket of yellow flowers and a grey puffball of a seagull chick is running through it. In the sun, the chick's mother shines white.
Yes, I'm having trouble blogging instead of staring out my window. Holy Molybdenum, what a fabulous day. I shall have to drag my husband off the couch to go walkies soon.
This past week has been both fruitful and frustrating in terms of writing. I had to work longer hours than usual so my Astronomy students could come in to take sunspot data, thus I had fewer blocks of time at home to write. However, I also had more opportunity to plot and outline scenes (my husband refers to this process as "scheming".) The result was I had plenty to write but couldn't write it until this weekend.
Thanks to the "scheming", I've half-finished a very long and intricate scene I had been dreading working out the logic of. I also know what I'll do for the rest of it, although more plotting will be required. Last night, I opened a later chapter to check a fact, realised that scene wasn't logically consistent with the scene I had been writing, fixed it, then went back to what I'd been working on. I'm pretty happy with everything I've produced, also.
When El Husbando lumbers blissfully out of bed at 10AM on the weekends, he must think I'm nuts to be so chipper and happy. After all, I've already been up three hours and he knows I'm as much a night owl as he is. I can't help it; when your writing is going well, you just feel so pleased with yourself and your life.
M'aide, M'aide; I'm hearing gentle snores wafting out of the couch. Going for that walk may prove more difficult than I'd originally envisioned.
In short, I've been quite productive the past few days. This is in spite of having new library books to dive into and the Harry Potter fanatic in me having suddenly come awake and started gibbering that we! must! re-read! all the old books before HP Armageddon hits on the 21st.
Dagnabbit; how many pages is that, anyway? Everything after book three was a house brick.
'Nuff about me; how is everyone else's writing going? Are you lucky enough to have sunny weather interfering with your concentration these days? :-)
