I finally figured out how to export my posts from WordPress into Word.  It’s not pretty, it’s certainly not clean, but the words are there, and that’s the important part.  Downloaded them by year.

I noticed that I started 800 Words as my junk drawer for writing.  Now I write for the two people who read it.  I know they like when I use their characters, and I only hope I do them justice.  (I suppose I do, otherwise they wouldn’t keep playing with me, I guess.)  But I opened up the second or third entry into 800 Words and read it.

And I was amazed.  No way; seriously, I wrote this shit?  There must be more nuggets in there somewhere.

The writing that is play seems to be a lot of fun.  I’m using Take Ten for Writers, which gives me ten minutes a day to write – the same amount of time that What’s-Her-Name from Writing Down the Bones wants me to write, minimally, per day.  That’s about a page in my composition book.

Hell, I can do that.

800 Words is just over a page and a half.  I can usually squeeze that out, too, though it takes me an hour.  Not because I type slow, but because I’m often keeping the end in mind and letting myself meander to get there.  Depending, of course, on whether I need to pad to hit my word count.

Stuff I’m working on:

Mal and Knight’s story over in Tumblr, starting from the beginning.  This one’s going to be a novel, though I would love a graphic novel if I could find an artist around here.  Craig’s List gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Daily writing in my composition book, the notebook at work, the notebook downstairs at the kitchen table, the notebook in the bathroom – you laugh.  Oh, shit, I need one in bed.  Taking care of that tonight!

Coming up with ideas for RP in Champions.  

Coming up with storylines for the characters I’m keeping and want to write more about.  Firefighter?  This means you.  Cybermancer?  You got fans because you’re hot so they want to know more about you.

And on it goes.

Reading:

Dead Iron by Davon (something-or-other).  Still following my (alleged) misogynistic tendencies of not reading a fantasy book by a female author because they can’t write male heroes worth a damn, I have found out that some males cannot write female heroines worth a damn, either.  Not sure yet about this guy because his heroine hasn’t been on-screen long enough for me to make a decision.  If the main male protagonist and this girl get together, I’m going to throw the book across the room in disgust.