NaNoWriMo word count for today

>> Thursday, November 05, 2009

7,704 / 50,000
Words


I started late and wrote little. It's been a strange week in that regard, feast and famine, short one night and long the next.

I should, however, have a bit of free time next week. So I'm not too worried about it. And while I still don't have a plot, the story (such as it is) isn't not holding together, if that makes any sense. That is to say that things are a bit random but not really, seeing as how the incidents I thought might happen are happening and it's not like these bits of randomness are accidental or even truly random. They have a plan, or at least as much of a plan as Ron and David ever did.

Speaking of which: I've finally started watching the "4.5" season of Battlestar Galactica, having failed to watch it on TV when it aired as I of course didn't (and don't) have cable, and the oddly good news is that the bitching of my friends and general unfavorableness has worked out in my favor. My expectations for the final episodes have been so low that I've actually been kind of enjoying them; there's no question they're not nearly as good as anything in the first two seasons, but they're not nearly as terrible as I'd been led to believe; that's not saying anything, as the eps are scoring points for basic competence things like "no visible boom mikes this episode" and "Eddie Olmos played scene in costume and not in boxers and a college t-shirt, nor did he shout 'Line!' at somebody offscreen every few seconds." I kid; nobody I know ever claimed that the last episodes were made at a Tommy Wiseau-ish level of craptitude, but it sort of illustrates the point. I expected these final episodes to be so painfully bad that the reveals that had my friends practically biting heads off chickens in their rage have struck me as more of a "Oh... well... I guess that's an explanation for something, I guess... wonder where they'll go with that?" state of meh-but-not-uninterested-zen-ness. There's something to be said, anyway, for going into something thinking it's going to be awfuller than it actually is.

I'm also finally trying to get an old laptop set up as a media station, and finding basic tech issues like recalibrating the battery to be a pain in the ass, but whatever.

Well, I guess that's about it for today.

  • Azure Ray, Hold On Love
  • Red House Painters, Red House Painters (a.k.a. Rollercoaster)



2 comments:

John the Scientist Friday, November 6, 2009 at 2:56:00 PM EST  

"There's something to be said, anyway, for going into something thinking it's going to be awfuller than it actually is."

Keep that thought as you review Palin's "book". :D

Eric Friday, November 6, 2009 at 3:58:00 PM EST  

Truth be told, John, I don't expect Palin's book to be unusually terrible by the standards of the genre: political "memoirs" by politicos at that stage of their careers tend to be fairly bland, self-serving, and slightly vapid, with the obligatory chapter about The Terrible Time I Got Through And Learned Something About Family and the obligatory section devoted to In My Childhood Home We Struggled But My Parent(s)' Strength Taught Me Valuable Life Lessons, etc. I expect she'll have a fairly unimaginative and shallow recitation of Republican talking points (just as, I might add, a similar tome from a Democrat would) and a bit about her faith and family values (just as, I might add, a similar tome from a Democrat would), and I will lay eggs, probably, if there's anything the least bit profound about it (just as, I might add, a similar... well, you get the idea). These books are more like infomercials for future campaigns than they're like actual substantial books, and I'm expecting the most challenging thing to be the act of remaining conscious.

I certainly expect her ghostwriter will have taken care of basic technical things like punctuation and subject-verb agreements (just as a similar--see, this really isn't a partisan thing; these books almost always suck regardless of who they're about). Here, I expect I'll see technical competence that's bad in a qualitative but not actual sense; i.e. solid, proper work but nothing that makes your teeth throb in sympathy like Don DeLillo's opening description of riding the subway at the beginning of Libra or makes the heart run like Ray Bradbury describing a summer day in Dandelion Wine. There will likely be some instances where, to reverse-paraphrase Twain, Palin's bio has lightning bugs where a better book has lightning, but probably nothing that elicits an Inigo Montoya-ish, "I do not think that word means what you think it means."

Of course, I could be wrong.

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