I woke up at 10:30 after twelve hours of sleep. Even after some weird dreams I actually felt rested if a bit groggy. Being a silly wench, I sat down at my computer still bleary-eyed and decided to pull up Once Upon a Wager and “fix” the chapter I was working on. Before falling asleep I’d finally accepted, after two weeks of banging my head against another brick wall, that the story wasn’t happy with the direction I was taking it. It was a simple task. Delete half a chapter. I decided to save part of the writing just in case I wanted to use it later. All I had to do was copy the relevant paragraphs and paste them elsewhere and then push the delete key…at least that’s what I did and then found I’d somehow deleted all of chapter 31.
This would never have happened except about a month ago my life was made less simple by becoming an official Apple-user. My husband got a new computer so I got his small apple. I wasn’t overly thrilled to be changing, but change is a galloping horse that runs over frightened rabbits (though I look more like a fat squirrel than a rabbit). This morning, for the umpteenth time this month, I cursed Steve Jobs and his oh so helpful products designed to be so easy that even I could use them. I didn’t panic. My Goblin had assured me I had about three separate automatic backups. Chapter 31 was somewhere, I just didn’t know where. I like to think I’m not completely ill-logical (even though my first and last logic professor thought little of me or my brain), but some days I have to face reality and accept that if I’d been born on Vulcan (like Star Trek’s Spock) they’d have banished me at an early age. They might even have thrown me into the nearest volcano rather than allow some desperate Vulcan male suffering Ponfar to mate with me.
Trying to think logically, I clicked on the garbage can icon, but nothing happened so I left the program and tried the “Time Machine” a nifty piece of software that apparently saves a copy of everything and stores it for a certain amount of time. I found the relevant chapter listed, but I could only see the first paragraph and no way of opening it. It was time to call my logical Goblin! I e-mailed my husband some incoherent rant and sat there glaring at the trash can…and then I saw it…the arrow next to the trash can. In the mailbox I remembered those same irritating arrows on the various mailboxes. I clicked on the arrow (not the can) and there it was…chapter 31. Feeling stupid (and cursing Steve Jobs and his icons) I was writing an e-mail to the Goblin explaining I’d found my brain when he called (he’s so lovely). By the time I noticed the time and hung up I was wishing I had a time machine to rescue my lunch. I wisely decided I wouldn’t do any more writing and ran downstairs to pull my blackened food from the oven.
With my plate of partially charred lunch, I decided I was finally in the mood to watch “Bright Star” the movie about the real regency romance between the poet John Keats and Fanny Brawne. I wanted to see it at the movie theatre, but missed it. I rented the DVD from the library last week, but I knew it would make me cry so I was waiting ’till I was in the mood for something sad. It was gorgeous and it did make me cry. I loved how Jane Campion told the story. There was something about the way she filmed it that made the movie feel delicate like the fabrics the heroine is always sewing by hand. The costume designers did a brilliant job. It’s worth seeing just for the clothes, but if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it (if you don’t mind sad endings).
After watching the movie I decided it was best to walk into town and return it as it was already late. I didn’t find any photographs in town, which was just as well as my battery proved dead when I tried to take a photo this evening. I found two scarves at the charity shop I may use to line purses if I ever have the energy to sew. When I’m not writing I tend to end up staring at the wall or reading.
I arrived home bearing dinner for the Goblin and the phone rang. I’d forgotten what day it was. Every other month on the third Tuesday the ladies at church all get together and have some sort of improving class. Last time I tortured them with the Myers-Brigg personality test. (If you’ve never taken it I highly recommend it. There are websites where its free. My friend Jen gave me the test twenty years ago and it has helped me understand myself as well as other people. I can’t imagine how frustrating I’d find life without being able to understand why certain people think certain ways and why they do certain things. The difference is like watching tv in HD colour compared to an old black and white tv. I recommend buying or borrowing a copy of Please Understand Me by David Keirsey and giving the test to friends and family. This may reveal why certain family members make you feel like you’re speaking to them in a foreign language, which may be the case. Some personalities are concrete communicators some are intuitive communicators and the two tend to separate like oil and water. To truly communicate one has to learn to speak the other’s language.) Anyway, that was the other month, this evening we we’re learning about using a new program for Family History. I really enjoyed it (and the cake was good too). It’s good to get out and have a laugh.
That was my day…and now its time for bed. At least on my way home from town I think I figured out where my story wants to go…a plot twist I hadn’t thought of. Tomorrow I’ll see if the characters like it…if not I’ll end up eating more brick.