Per Aspera Ad Astra Et Cetera


Cassiopeia

Bleary-eyed in the driveway at 3:30 AM....

My camera is not really geared for astrophotography, but when I'm lucky I can get something. I photographed "Cassie" and the grouping in Taurus below using the longest exposure (4 seconds) and the largest aperture (f/2.8) that my camera would give me. That still gave me a black viewfinder, so I aimed the camera using my other eye. After downloading (and getting a black rectangle) I tweaked the shot in MS Photo Editor to bring out the stars.

Clicking on the photos here and then on the magnifying glass will take you to larger views. I was able to see the Milky Way (growing up a city gal I love the skies down here) but couldn't pick it up on pixel.

Cassiopeia (the "W" in the sky) is the wife of King Cepheus and mother of Andromeda. She's depicted as a woman sitting on her throne -- upside-down, as a form of punishment.

"In ancient Egypt these stars formed an evil group known as the Leg, under the control of the god Set, brother and killer of Osiris; in China they were Wang Liang, a famous charioteer; and to the Celts they were Llys Don, home of the king of the fairies," according to the National Audubon Society Field Guide to the Night Sky.

More mythology and history are available at the Legg Middle School Planetarium website. I've also posted a version with the stars labelled here (click the magnifying glass and scroll to the right).


Hyades, Pleiades, and Aldebaran

Both the Hyades and Pleiades are in the Zodiacal constellation Taurus the Bull. Both are star clusters, the Pleiades a group of young, still-forming stars. The red star Aldebaran (bottom center) is the brightest star in Taurus.

Says the Audubon field guide, "Taurus is assuredly one of the oldest constellations recognized, for it was among these stars that the Sun appeared at the beginning of spring between about 4000 and 1800 BC.... The bull, a symbol of strength and fertility, figures prominently in the mythology of nearly all early civilizations, from Sumer to India to northern Europe."

The field guide continues, "According to Greek mythology, the Hyades were the sisters of Hyas, a great hunter whose death they mourned....Zeus placed the nymphs in the sky in gratitude for their service and pity for their grief.... Taurus's better-known group of 'maidens' is the Pleiades, or Seven Sisters, a small but very noticeable cluster of stars on the bull's shoulder."

The Pleiades look like a miniature dipper at the top. The Hyades are inside the sideways "V" that includes Aldebaran and some stars that show up dimly here. Again, I've posted the labelled version -- and the Legg Planetarium has more info on Taurus. I'd tried several times before to get the Pleiades, so I was thrilled when I finally managed to bring them out.

A recent e-mail from the Art Center brought my attention to the 3D sidewalk art of Julian Beever. Clicking on the thumbnails on his site offers an amazing viewing experience.

I have now done 30 consecutive days of writing, to the tune of 37,427 words. In addition, I took a literal first cut and removed 2,762 words of front-end "recrap". I am now in what amounts to Act 3 of Book #4. There's still a lot of tweaking to do, but I'm finally bringing the drama to a head.

Yesterday I weed-whacked the yard. Today the hurricane shutters arrived and should be up in time for Ernesto, should that storm re-strengthen and head our way. We're still in the "cone" (as of 11:37 PM EDT), though not by much.

Flutterby

A brief (32-second) Pipevine Swallowtail video to accompany the photos at the end of "Red Shoes Time":



Meanwhile, back at the fictional ranch --

23 days, 28,274 words. From my entry at Dancing With the Muse:

"This is how section 3 will happen."

I wrote that in my journal at 4 AM Monday morning. The scene I'm currently writing has four parts. The first two parts came seamlessly (after a couple of failed drafts), but the third part was not forthcoming as I sat at my computer on Sunday night.

But I have committed to adding daily to the draft, and even though I'd already written section 2 that day I was ready to do more. If I couldn't write section 3, then I would turn to a different scene. When I was ready to go to bed it was almost four in the morning.

As soon as my head hit the pillow I got section 3. I jumped out of bed, swung into the studio, and scribbled notes in my journal so that I wouldn't forget what to do. Then I returned to my mattress and was asleep shortly thereafter.

Sometimes the shortest distance between two points on the same block is a detour to the next county.

[end of entry]

Neologism

Recrap (n): The glut of narrative information pinning a story down like a lead weight. An expository dump. From recap (noun: "a recapitulation") and crap (noun: "excrement," "nonsense; drivel," "refuse; rubbish; junk; litter").

This "word" came to me on Sunday (inspired by my earlier sections of Book #4, before I started writing scattershot) and I had to share. Component definitions come from the Random House College Dictionary, revised edition, 1975.

As you were. :)

[end of entry]

Red Shoes Time


Journal notebook atop manuscript pages, tweaked.

When I saw what she was doing, as I watched her with my jaw hitting the floor and tears in my eyes, I was convinced Pirandello had it backwards. The characters aren't in search of their author. On the contrary; mine have blessed me....

I don't have real red shoes because I live in sneakers. (Though there were some folks in Massachusetts years ago called "Composers in Red Sneakers" who produced some pretty cool music. But I digress.)

"Red shoes time" refers to the Hans Christian Andersen story "The Red Shoes", whose heroine slips a magic pair of red shoes on and can't stop dancing. In fact, she dances herself almost to death. It's a great metaphor for creative obsession. There's also the phenomenal 1948 movie that takes its cue from the fairy tale.

I'm not possessed quite that much. Though when I was last in fullblown red shoes time I had driven off to a meeting and gone about 10 miles before I realized I'd left my fanny pack at home, complete with my driver's license, wallet, and every scrap of ID I had. Even though Mary was home I was thankful my house keys and car key were on the same ring.

Red shoes time means I can pull an all-nighter writing and still have the energy to dance -- literally dance -- afterwards. It means I wake up with visions in my head: in the morning, in the middle of the night; it means the visions are playing as I fall asleep. When I'm not working directly on the draft I'm scribbling madly in my journal notebook, getting the visions down in outline before they fade from me like forgotten dreams. It's the time when I sit on the couch staring into space and Mary says things to me like, "I can tell you're having book thoughts. Daisy's the one reading the newspaper."

My Muse and I are like the cats, especially when they were younger and Mary and I lived in a shotgun apartment with a 50-foot-long hallway. Day and night one cat would chase the other down that stretch. Then they'd whirl around and the pursued would become the pursuer. "Engine and caboose," Mary calls it.

At some point in my current, scattershot writing, not aiming for any kind of linearity but just getting down the scenes as they come to me -- keeping to my commitment of adding to the book daily no matter how disorganized and "drafty" the draft -- my Muse turned around and became the caboose, at once careening toward my engine and shoveling fuel into my firebox.

I felt the turning point three nights ago. I'd been struggling with a scene I knew was important, but I just couldn't get a handle on it. It was too device-driven. The characters were like little black boxes whose true emotions I couldn't reach. I was merely smearing their actions on the page and wondering what the hell I was doing as I watched layers of crap multiply from one rewrite to the next.

The aftermath of that scene started nagging at me, so I jumped ahead. The characters let me in there and I breathed easier. I knew what I wanted to accomplish, the role of the scene in the story line, and they were being accommodating.

Then one of them suddenly went ahead and did something so unexpected and profound it took my breath away. I sat at the computer with tears in my eyes and my jaw hitting the floor. In an instant I understood what the preceding scene that was giving me so much trouble was really all about, and why it is more important even than I had imagined. Everything made sense. I knew what emotional tone I needed to use and the events that would later predispose this character to do what she did, setting in motion her contribution to the crux of the story line.

I finished setting the stage for this character and others to get into the deep doodoo I've got planned for them. Last night I started work on the scene that had been giving me problems. This time the characters came alive and I could lead (and follow) them through their paces -- not rushing through, not writing blindly. In contrast to some of the scenes I'd written before this current daily commitment, which I'll have to slash and burn later on because they're too front-end loaded with recap, I'm drawing this one out and giving it the space and time it requires. I wrote another section early this afternoon, so might fit another one in before the day is out. What was giving me so much trouble before flows "like buttah."

The now-22 consecutive days of writing have produced 26,511 words of draft and 5,423 words of notes.


Morning glory mandala. Click on this image and the ones below (and click the magnifying glass) for the large views.

I'm still workshopping the trilogy at a group called Inverness Writers, which meets twice a month at the library in our county seat. (I'd been driving to an IW meeting the day I left my fanny pack at home.) This past Friday I handed out chapter 12 of Book #3, which has 15 chapters in all. Once that critique is complete, depending on what shape Book #4 is in, I may hold off until I can get it better organized and ply the group with some shorter pieces. If nothing else, so that they know I actually do write shorter pieces.

I'd arrived early at the library, partly to sit by the stacks and scribble down more notes, when I noticed morning glories sitting pretty enough to be photographed.



But the flowers weren't what drew my attention first.



Pipevine Swallowtail. Battus philenor, Family Papilionidae (Swallowtails). I also managed to take a brief video, which I'll post the next time I'm at a DSL-enabled computer.

The Pipevine is one of several swallowtail butterflies that look very much alike and that include the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (female, dark phase), Black Swallowtail (female), Spicebush Swallowtail, Red-spotted Purple, and Diana Fritillary. Bugguide.Net has a good guide on telling the species apart. I think this is a female, given the thickness of its body. The lookalike markings are part of the Batesian mimicry complex, a protective mechanism whereby several different species get to look like one or more that taste bad to predators.

This is also called the Blue Swallowtail and the Philenor, according to Bugguide. Like some other swallowtails (including the Palamedes I'd photographed back in April) it flutters its wings constantly. "Flies all year in tropical Mexico," says Bugguide. "Overwinters as chrysalis in temperate areas."

Cruising Altitude


Wasp, ID pending. Markings are similar to a cicada killer wasp, but the size is too small.
...[M]y villain must also be a heroine. Her love drives her. I already knew that because she is a protectress, but I must take her further. It isn't enough for her victim to love her. His wife must love her. The reader must love her. And, as the one who channels her, I must love her.

Even though, deep down inside, we all know better.

And the one man who really does know better, who coming into this story has perpetrated the worst crimes without a shred of remorse -- he becomes the Cassandra of the story. The person no one is able to believe.
Such were my musings earlier today, before I added another 1,435 words of draft. That makes 19,339 words in 17 consecutive days of writing....

During today's session I was headphoned into Olivier Messiaen's Turangalila Symphonie, which blew me away when I first heard it almost 15 years ago. In his liner notes Messiaen writes:

"The Turangalila Symphonie is a love song. The Turangalila Symphonie is a hymn to joy. Not the respectable, calmly euphoric joy of some good man of the 17th century, but joy as it may be conceived by someone who has glimpsed it only in the midst of sadness: in other words, a joy that is superhuman, overflowing, blinding, unlimited. Love is present here in the same manner: this is love that is fatal, irresistible, transcending everything, suppressing everything outside itself. ... the subject is love unto death."

It fit the mood of the writing perfectly.

My job is to pull my assignment off, and that's where things can become tricky. It's a shaping process, such as when I discover that two events in the same scene need to be swapped around to make better sense, or when I need to come at something from a different position. What seemed important in earlier notes becomes less crucial, or becomes baggage to be dispensed with altogether. I can usually tell when I need to change my approach because my writing becomes wooden and the characters seem flat, as though they are being forced through their paces.

Thoreau's "Simplify, simplify!" really comes into play here. When I see what floats to the top I can pour off the rest. Each scene must make a distinct contribution to the story line, taking a clean, direct route. Sometimes I travel a tangled route before I realize that I need to reverse, take that turn instead. If I can't read the map I jump ahead -- as I've done these past two days -- so that I can see where I've come from and extrapolate backwards.

Book #4 has clearly resolved itself into two main dramatic threads, interrelated but approaching the same problem from a different angle. The other threads are ancillary and need to be trimmed. My main structural problem was that I was getting bogged down in recap, much of it in narrative form and front end-loaded. It was pushing the development of the story lines way back.

Now that I've gotten into the meat of those story lines, I've been able to incorporate recaps in a much more organic way, taking and re-casting them from the earlier chapters. I've got a fair amount of slashing and burning to do, but at least now I know that I'm getting somewhere.



Mary wonders if this burrow, found recently in our yard, is home to an armadillo or to a gopher tortoise. We're continuing to investigate. I haven't taken a ruler to it yet, but Mary estimates its diameter is about 8 inches. Our hurricane shutters should be coming soon (preferably before the next hurricane), so we'll be covering the hole or marking it prominently in some way before the installers arrive.

My food becomes simple. Canned tuna. Garbanzos. Simple salads. Crispbread. Unsalted peanuts and caffeinated coffee. Our walks are relegated to the nighttime after the temperature has cooled, though when I hoof it around town for errands I am at one with my sweat. Working with the blessings of flex time I become a night owl. Somewhere around 3 or 4 AM I can turn off my studio's ceiling fan.

The heat -- we have A/C but use it sparingly -- cannot dampen a good belly laugh. One category on Friday night's Jeopardy! dealt with current pop music. Both of us live in a cave when it comes to such matters. In an attempt to answer the last question, and being way off-base, Mary called excitedly through the toothpaste in her mouth what sounded like, "Earth, Wind, and Tires!" It brought tears to our eyes for the next two days.

My characters do not have a moon to look at, but they do have constellations, which I use sometimes to present the passage of time from one season to the next. Without a moon I am careful with my language. I do not write of tides, but of water that is wind-pushed.



On August 9 Mary and I had just emerged from the post office at around 8:50 PM when I saw this orange moon, about 14 hours past full, rising above the trees. This is a 1"6-second exposure at f/8. Behind us, Jupiter was up, followed by Scorpius and Sagittarius.

Space.com lists this as "The Full Sturgeon Moon, when this large fish of the Great Lakes and other major bodies of water like Lake Champlain is most readily caught. A few tribes knew it as the Full Red Moon because the moon rises looking reddish through sultry haze, or the Green Corn Moon or Grain Moon."

About 40 minutes later we spotted an artificial satellite about to glide above Sagittarius, headed roughly east. According to Heavens Above, this was the Atlas Centaur 2 rocket, launched on November 27, 1963. This Centaur-D upper stage was the first liquid hydrogen fueled rocket to successfully reach orbit.

Sagittarius still climbs toward its zenith as we walk home near midnight. I see its "teapot" shape more easily than I can see the archer. And whether or not the Milky Way is visible, as it was last night, I know that I look toward our galaxy's center when I gaze at Sagittarius. Jupiter in Libra, my birth sign, has begun its slow sink toward the west.

Every night the stars rise four minutes earlier in their annual rounds. This morning Mary saw Orion in the predawn when she got the newspaper and made sure to tell me -- thrilled at the distant promise of winter.

Ten Days, 10,714 Words



"We are always confused in this business. It's part of our training."

That line was uttered by Jan DeVeia, a character in my short story, "The Evolution of Commander DeVeia" (published in the Fall 1982 Yellow Silk: Journal of Erotic Arts under my then-married name). I know how she feels. I am caught in a time warp that skips forward and backwards, learning to surf a wave of non-linearity while keeping my balance....

On July 30 I committed to adding daily to Book #4 and beyond. So far I've kept to that commitment, writing scenes regardless of where they fall within the story line. In one case I have written the intro for Book #5 after its title character prodded me in the head for days.

I couldn't refuse him. He has enough problems. But in #4 he is still a toddler, happy and innocent and completely unaware of what his future holds. (I have 6 books planned at this point, with the first 3 already written and seeking a publisher.)

Instead of having one neat file with its scenes lined up in an orderly row I have scattershot. But the more I write, the better focus I get on the story lines that take precedence. I can better shape the overall picture of what is essentially an ensemble piece. I know better what to trim, what to expand, how to fit the pieces together eventually. So far the pieces have come to 10,714 words of draft, written over ten consecutive days coming into today.

This non-linear approach gives me tremendous degrees of freedom. No matter what I write, I will write something. It may not make it into my revised draft but even if it doesn't, chances are it will inform other pieces. The different books inform each other as a whole, backwards and forwards, giving me a macro view. In the micro view the characters take control, often wresting scenes from me and showing me a better way to construct them. I'm getting to know the children much better now. In Books #5 and #6 they will carry on the saga about 15 years after the time of #4.

I make a list of scene ideas as they come to me, then pick one (or something outside the list). What doesn't survive revision will likely be cannibalized for world-building. Or, like sentence-tightening, the elements of two or more scenes can be combined and streamlined. This is a much different type of writing than anything I've done before, but it seems to be working.

The "puzzle" up top represents numerous manipulations of a small part of Mary's mouth. She'd had me take photographs of her teeth as part of her home dental care.

I've also begun putting together the Florida State Poets Association's annual anthology. This is the fourth year I'm producing it and my second year as editor. In addition I'm now also editing the Palette, the Art Center of Citrus County's (formerly the Citrus County Art League) monthly newsletter.

Mary and I have been taking our walks in the evening in what here passes for cool. Even in the heat of day, when I'm hoofing it through town for errands, I get by pretty well wearing my hat and sunglasses and carrying water bottle and face cloth. And camera. Lately I've made the acquaintance of two previously unencountered species.



Virginia Creeper Sphinx, also called a Hog Sphinx, Darapsa myron, Family Sphingidae. On August 5 this one hung from the ceiling of the strip mall across the street from the post office, around 10:40 pm. In all other cases I've seen moths positioned fairly flat against a surface, but this one seemed to be holding on just with its forelegs. More detail is in the large view (click the magnifying glass for this and the next).

According to Bugguide.Net, these range throughout eastern and central North America: Nova Scotia to Florida, west to Texas and New Mexico, north to Manitoba. They frequent woodlands and edges near host plants. Adults are nocturnal, attracted to light, and feed on nectar. They fly from April to September, while larvae are present from April to November. The larvae feed on leaves of peppervine (Ampelopsis spp.), Viburnum, grape, and Virginia Creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia). One or two generations per year occur in the north, two or more generations in the south.

This is also called a Grapevine Sphinx. According to Bill Oehlke, "Females lay translucent yellow-green eggs in twos or threes on the underside of host leaves. Eggs hatch in five or six days, and the young caterpillars eat their eggshells. The developing larvae usually become visible after three to four days."

I sometimes have trouble identifying moths, even mis-guessing the Family, but I did pretty well narrowing this one down to two potential species. The Virginia Creeper Sphinx looks similar to the Azalea Sphinx. Both also have broad variety in their coloration. Thanks to Jacques Doucet at Bugguide for the ID. This is the fourth species of Sphinx moth I've encountered, joining the Tersa, Mournful, and Pawpaw.



Gray Wall Spider, Menemerus bivittatus, Family Salticidae (Jumping Spiders).

This little one (a female, from her coloration) was hanging out at the strip mall on the afternoon of August 7. More detail is in the large view.

According to the University of Florida, this is one of two jumping spider species imported by humans from the tropical Old World. (The pantropical jumper, Plexippus paykulli, is the other.) "Both are almost exclusively associated with man-made structures, usually buildings where they may be numerous around lights at night, catching the insects attracted to the lights," says UF. "Both are medium-large jumping spiders, about 8 to 12 mm in length. Adults and immatures of both species are present all year, although most mating and reproduction begin in the fall and continue until spring. Both are found from Florida to Texas and south to Paraguay. Menemerus bivittatus also occurs in California, and both species are widely distributed in the Old World tropics. The occurrence of dense populations of these two species around human habitations makes them of considerable beneficial importance in the control of flies, mosquitoes, and other human pests."

Professor Wayne Maddison (University of British Columbia) explains that the excellent vision of jumping spiders "allows them to hunt much as do cats, spotting prey from long distances, creeping up then pouncing using their jumping ability. Although a jumping spider can jump more than fifty times its body length, none of its legs has enlarged muscles. The power for jumping probably comes from a quick contraction of muscles in the front part of the body increasing the blood pressure, which causes the legs to extend rapidly much as in the toy frogs that hop when you squeeze a bulb."

Maddison continues, "The brain of a jumping spider includes a comparatively large region for visual processing. In fact, the brain of a small jumping spider may take up about the same volume in proportion to its body as does ours."

The Gray Wall Spider is my third jumper, joining Hentzia mitrata (no common name) and the Twinflagged Jumping Spider.

The take-home assignment for my free-writing group this week is "Creepy House." No problem. :)

Reality, Retouched

I believe this image (and especially the mouse-over that goes with it) should be seen by every anorexic person.

The camera club I belong to calls this a "cool site," consisting of a series of professional photographs and mouse-overs that reveal their original, unretouched versions. Brian Dilg's work illustrates some stunning digital magic, which is what drew the camera club president's attention.

Dilg writes, "This image for Bravo's Project Runway involved a lot of changes to the set, replacing the head on the woman at the back, lots of cosmetic skin work that won't be apparent in this little JPEG, and of course plenty of digital flattery. All par for the retouching world these days."

I saw the Project Runway shot and immediately thought of anorexics whose body image is so harshly driven by retouched photos. Even if they know the photos are altered, the images are still pervasive and persuasive. Dilg shows the true "before" picture.

Here's to reality.

[end of entry]

Dancing With the Muse



Retooling my flight plan....

Not long ago I discovered Lary (one r) Crews' posts on a Flickr Writers discussion board. His pep talk and his advice inspired me to start Dancing With the Muse, a blog devoted to the writing process as I experience it. That blog is also a motivational tool for me.

"Tell yourself writer's block doesn't exist," he asserts.

I love that line.

Simple. Succinct. Writer's block doesn't exist. Never did, never will. No worries.

It's a powerful affirmation.

Most of his techniques (treated in more detail in his posts) are things I've already put into practice for myself. But they're good reminders for me, and a couple of twists have let me see familiar territory in new ways.

1. Start a project anywhere, just to get it started. I usually have no problem starting stories or articles. Usually my information comes to me in a great glob, all the details vying for top billing. Once I get them down in a mishmash I can start lining them up in an orderly fashion. This is especially true for deadline-driven corporate writing.

2. Skip the beginning. My writing is usually pretty linear, but sometimes I jump ahead and put in placeholders. It felt unnatural at first, but when I get a vision I'm best off if I get it down while it's still potent. Otherwise it fades away like a dream.

3. "Write yourself a letter." I do this in my journal notes. I ask myself questions about the story: "What if we did A, B, and C? What does that mean down the line? What's important?"

4. "Write about not being able to write." I've done that in my journal, too. Being unable to write, period, is generally not my problem, but I've written about being stuck on Book #4. That usually launches me into more notes that will come in handy later.

5. Brainstorm. Again, I do this with my notes. The "cluster thinking" Crews mentions is very similar to the Persona Workshop I've given at conventions and in my teaching.

6. "Create a place you'd like to be." That's my studio. I tell Mary I generally don't care what she does with the rest of the house, but this 12 by 14.5-foot sanctuary is mine.

7. "Write consistently." I do this, but my commitment now is to be more focused. (See #17, below.)

8. Keep several writing projects going at once. I'm better at this in the less-creative realm because I'm not as emotionally invested in that work. When I'm involved in a story I "go native" -- working on two or more deep-structure stories at once would be like acting in multiple gut-wrenching plays simultaneously. On the other hand, mixing the deep stuff with less demanding fare works fine for me.

9. "Change your scene." This is one reason I carry my notebook everywhere. Sometimes I just have to sit on a park bench and write, or I buy a cup of coffee to "rent" a writing table at a cafe. Earlier tonight I was scribbling notes at the bakery while Mary was in their bathroom brushing her teeth. The simple act of walking gets my mental gears turning. So does travel of any kind, even if I'm not personally moving -- subway trains have proven a fertile ground for ideas.

10. "Change your writing." One of the things I love about my free-writing group is the ideas other members come up with. The at-home assignment for this week was to take a story ending and write the story that led up to it. My writing is usually pretty serious, but Monday night -- in addition to work on Book #4 -- I turned out a 2,569-word story geared for laughs. I'll see how it goes over with the group tomorrow.

11. "Read your own writing." Especially in longer pieces, I prime my creative pump by reading the preceding section. It helps me get a consistent flow and it gets me into the mood of the piece. It's like walking through a doorway from this world into my fictional one.

12. "Read what others have written." I not only read for craft but I watch for craft. My latest version of that is Animal Planet's Meerkat Manor, which I adore. The writers of that show have condensed ten years of research and one-plus year of I-don't-want-to-think-about-how-many-hours-of-footage into neatly-packaged half-hour segments. Every episode opens with a rundown of the major characters and a catch-phrase for each. Mozart is "the caring one." Youssarian "has social problems." It's brilliant. I realized that coming up with a catch-phrase that encapsulates each of my own characters wouldn't be a bad idea, so I labeled them with the first thing that came into my head. TS is "the defiant one." BB "has identity problems." And so on. The characters have more traits than that, but free-associating on their "essence" helps me focus. On the reading end I was recently wowed by Kelley Benham's "Kennel Trash" (July 30 St. Petersburg Times), not only for its heartbreaking content but by her writing style.

13. "Read About Writing." In addition to good guidance from books about writing, I learn from various writing forums, reading about the approaches other people take.

14. "Set goals and measure your progress." I've done this, on and off, for my own creative projects. Now I'm "on" again. I've always done it for deadline-driven projects as a way to keep my sanity while meeting demand. I like Crews' valuing of time spent on a project as opposed to (or supplementing) word count. When I'm "in the zone" I can churn out 5,000 or more words in a day. When that "communion" eludes me my output can be 1/10 that, or less, accomplished in the same period of work and with much more tearing out of hair.

15. "Talk about your writing." This entry, for example. And now Dancing With the Muse.

16. "Start feeling guilty" for not writing. I agree very strongly with this, and sometimes it's painful. Ever since I was a kid I knew that whatever I did for a living would support my writing. At times I've taken a detour from that during my crazier work schedules, but even then I sought refuge in my journal when I could not focus on more creative output. Other forms of expression, such as art and photography, helped fulfill my creative needs and provided a "vacation" of sorts from the demands of deep-structure storytelling. They're all valuable, and they've helped me return to the writing with a fresh perspective. Sometimes, though, I've used them as a form of procrastination.

17. "Tell yourself writer's block doesn't exist." This one made my eyes pop open. I never thought of myself as having writer's block in the first place, but that's different from completely negating the phenomenon. That negation is wholly liberating for me with respect to Book #4, to which I have now made a renewed commitment. Ideally I will add something to the draft daily. Barring that I will scribble notes. I have been tackling my restructuring problem by setting up a list of scenes I want to write and then writing them in separate documents, rather than trying to fit them into the main body of work. I've never done this before, and it feels disjointed. But I am at least creating the pieces for the jigsaw puzzle I will eventually fit together -- something I've been telling myself to do for months but haven't really put into practice until now. Thanks, Lary.

18. "Write anything that pops into your head that isn't germane to what you're writing at the moment." Depending on what the "anything" is, I use either my journal notebook or I open up another screen on my computer. Not only does it help my idea bank, but I get it out of my system so it doesn't nag me while I'm trying to concentrate on other things. This is similar to Julia Cameron's "morning pages" in her book The Artist's Way. It's a brain dump.

I started putting my revised flight plan into effect on July 30, making a daily commitment to my characters and to their story in one form or another. Dancing With the Muse chronicles my progress.

In other flights (on August 1) --



"Lemon wedge" is what Mary calls this moon. This isn't a true 3d stereogram, but combining the images brings out the crater detail best seen in the right-hand shot (#6, 10:42:19 PM EDT, 1/10-second exposure at f/5.6), and the mare detail best seen in the left-hand shot (#12, 10:42:53 PM EDT, 1/15-second exposure at f/5.6).

To visually combine the shots, cross your eyes and then relax your gaze while focusing on the "center" image.



Photographed at 10:43:48 PM EDT, 4-second exposure at f/6.3.

I've overexposed the Moon (close to dipping behind trees shown at the bottom in dark silhouette) to bring out Jupiter almost directly above it.

According to Fact Monster, the Moon as seen here was about 6-3/4 hours short of first quarter, and about 9-3/4 hours short of conjunction with Jupiter, when they were 5 degrees apart.
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