Setting up my downstairs office

I spent this evening setting up my downstairs office.  I put my laptop computer, books, CDs, and DVDs, in my father's old room.  I updated my computer files and backed everything, too.  I need to install Norton 360 on the laptop latter this weekend and hook it up to the local wifi server.  I've been using my mom's machine for Internet until then. 

I finished a novella recently called Ganbaatar.  It's based on the Mongol invasion of Russia in 1223.   I don't understand why my stories turn into novellas.  This has happened on several occasions.  I wanted a novel.  I got a novella, instead. 

Or my short stories turn into novellas, too.  Battle Damage is a case in point.  I rewrote a new character and scene index to go with it.  I worked on it this morning.  I don't think it'll take long to finish.  I'm taking a hiatus from new projects once I'm done with the rough draft of Battle Damage.  I want to work on a poetry chap book, Half A World Away, and my novel, Kepler Falling.  Those projects should take the next several years... 

Rearranging the book pile: part III

I got through Unbreakable:  Book One in the Chronicles of Promise Paen.  It was fun read.  I gave away some of my books.  It included several WH40K novels.  I had some H.P. Lovecraft anthologies from my brother's book collection.  I started in them and realized I'd already read the stories in earlier anthologies.

I shelved them and moved onto another WH40K novel called Master of Sanctity.  It's the second book in the Legacy of Caliban trilogy.  It's proved to be another easy read.  But it's about 412 pages long.

That means I have four move hard copies to read before going to my electronic slush pile...

Lamenting lack of writing and progress on the book pile: part 2

I finally wrote some this past week on my Mongol invasion story/novel/novella.  It's about 20,000 words now.  I don't know how long it's going to take to finish the rough draft.  I'm not writing that much on it.  I'm lucky to get 1,250 words/per week.  Sometimes, it's more like a 1,000 words/per week.

I started working on it in March 2015.  I thought it would have progressed into more by now.  I know what I want to write.  It's just a matter of doing it.  My father's illness threw a wrench into things.  At the rate I'm going, I don't expect to get done until spring 2016.  I could get done faster if I put some effort into it.

However, with everything going on right now, I don't see that happening...

That can also be said about my book pile.  I got little reading done in my current novel, Unbreakable, this weekend.  I should be pulling out my hair.  I have about six other hard copies to read.  Plus another dozen ebooks.  As the way things stand, I'll never get done.  Unless something changes.  Still, I need to make a more concentrated effort to catch up with my pleasure reading and stop adding to my reading pile.

I haven't written this week!

I haven't written this week!  I spent Tuesday night editing poetry.  That's been it.  I plan to get back to writing next week...

My father passed away...

This is a simple note to say my father passed away on Monday, July 20, 2015 at 6 AM at home.  He suffered from terminal stomach cancer and a stroke.  He's no longer suffering and felt no pain at the end.

My father had been in hospice for seven months.  I came to terms with his impending death weeks ago.  I can now get on with my life again.  However, I understand what those who lost a parent have gone through...

Blake

Writing among a midnight vigil

I've gotten some writing done while I've been taking care of my dying father during the past several nights.  It's mainly been wargaming related stuff.  A new The Sword and The Flame variant for the Spanish-American War of 1898.  I've also written a critique of a new manuscript I read last night. 

This evening had me writing my father's impending obituary.  It was a simple piece.  I didn't feel it merited anything fancy.  Being Southern, my father's family obits rambled on for paragraphs.  Writing used an economy of words to convey a point across.  At least, that's what I've been taught. 

I never got along with my father.  He and I clashed.  I've done more for my parents in the past several months than I care to recall.  That's fine.  My father will die at home.  Loved and not alone.  I haven't really reflected on what things would have been like if he'd gone to a regular hospice unit.  I wouldn't have been burdened in staying up for nights on end making sure he got his pain medicine.  The whole ordeal has worn me down.  I'm tired and in need of sleep.

There isn't much else to say. 

Reality intervenes on my writing....

I spent the last several weeks helping my younger sibling pack for his move to Columbia, MO.  I've literary gone through my parent's house and pack boxes of books.  I've weeded out 500 books and bags of trash.  This doesn't include all the gaming stuff my brother left behind.  This project finally got finished yesterday afternoon.

I did this all for my mom, who wanted my brother's stuff out of her house.  But it's killed my writing time.  I haven't had time to really write like I want.  I was luck to finish painting.  Now, I can focus back on editing Kepler Falling and continue writing the rough draft of Ganbaatar...