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Dec. 16th, 2007 11:58 amDelia spent last night with Scott's parents. The idea was to give us some time to wrap presents, to open the big package my father sent (a dollhouse he made for my younger sister about fifteen years ago) and for me to finish my Yuletide fic.
The dollhouse is a write off. Papa made it from a kit. It's very thin plywood glued together, and the glue was failing. He'd said that it just needed painting, but it needed to be rebuilt. I'm sad about throwing it out because Delia would love something like that. We are keeping the furniture that came with it because that's in decent shape (a few bits and pieces missing from some items). It'll end up being a pain without a dollhouse to put it in, but Delia will love it. Maybe we can swing a dollhouse for her birthday in May. I was hoping that the one Papa sent could be salvaged (I knew it probably couldn't because he tends to be overly optimistic and was admitting that it wasn't in great shape).
I think most everything got wrapped last night. Well, except for stocking stuffers and one gift for Scott. I was too busy staring at my laptop and failing to write to kidnap the wrapping paper and take care of that.
The Yuletide fic got no real progress. I cut and pasted the beta comments into the document I plan to work from, but I didn't get farther than that. My head hurt, and... I think I'm starting to hate this fic. I feel bad about that because the fic doesn't deserve it. It could be a good story if I were a bit less stressed, if I had had November to work without all of the stuff that slammed us then.
If I'd known what November would be like, I probably wouldn't have signed up for Yuletide. Oh, well. I have a story. It's not the best story that I could-- in theory-- write, but it's the best that I can write right now. The request and the fandom were quite interesting, and my brain started spinning interesting theories almost immediately. I just haven't managed to translate those theories properly into something that somebody else can read.
Don't get me wrong-- I don't think it's a *bad* story. It's just not as good as it could be. Nowhere near, I think, and I've had to admit that I'm not going to be able to get it to as good as it could be. I'm going to do a superficial rewrite on most of it, focus on fixing the serious problems with the ending and call it done.
Scott's sick again. He can't stop coughing. This is bad because he can't take any sick time until March without a reprimand going into his file. It's also bad because he has to go out and clear the driveway and sidewalk of last night's snowfall. They were predicting a foot last night. Looking out the window, I can't tell if that's what we got or not, but it's still coming down.
Delia's supposed to come home today. Scott's mother is to pass her on to Scott's sister. Scott's sister's whole family (plus Delia) will then come to Ann Arbor to see the dress rehearsal of the Christmas play being done by the high schoolers at the church where Delia's pre-school is. (Scott's sister's sister-in-law has worked there for years, and they've made a tradition of attending). That starts in four hours. I hope the roads are clear enough for them to travel safely.
That gives me about three and a half hours to work on the rewrite. Time to put in some music and get to it. I'm determined to post the dratted thing tonight. This week's going to be stressful enough without that adding to it.
The dollhouse is a write off. Papa made it from a kit. It's very thin plywood glued together, and the glue was failing. He'd said that it just needed painting, but it needed to be rebuilt. I'm sad about throwing it out because Delia would love something like that. We are keeping the furniture that came with it because that's in decent shape (a few bits and pieces missing from some items). It'll end up being a pain without a dollhouse to put it in, but Delia will love it. Maybe we can swing a dollhouse for her birthday in May. I was hoping that the one Papa sent could be salvaged (I knew it probably couldn't because he tends to be overly optimistic and was admitting that it wasn't in great shape).
I think most everything got wrapped last night. Well, except for stocking stuffers and one gift for Scott. I was too busy staring at my laptop and failing to write to kidnap the wrapping paper and take care of that.
The Yuletide fic got no real progress. I cut and pasted the beta comments into the document I plan to work from, but I didn't get farther than that. My head hurt, and... I think I'm starting to hate this fic. I feel bad about that because the fic doesn't deserve it. It could be a good story if I were a bit less stressed, if I had had November to work without all of the stuff that slammed us then.
If I'd known what November would be like, I probably wouldn't have signed up for Yuletide. Oh, well. I have a story. It's not the best story that I could-- in theory-- write, but it's the best that I can write right now. The request and the fandom were quite interesting, and my brain started spinning interesting theories almost immediately. I just haven't managed to translate those theories properly into something that somebody else can read.
Don't get me wrong-- I don't think it's a *bad* story. It's just not as good as it could be. Nowhere near, I think, and I've had to admit that I'm not going to be able to get it to as good as it could be. I'm going to do a superficial rewrite on most of it, focus on fixing the serious problems with the ending and call it done.
Scott's sick again. He can't stop coughing. This is bad because he can't take any sick time until March without a reprimand going into his file. It's also bad because he has to go out and clear the driveway and sidewalk of last night's snowfall. They were predicting a foot last night. Looking out the window, I can't tell if that's what we got or not, but it's still coming down.
Delia's supposed to come home today. Scott's mother is to pass her on to Scott's sister. Scott's sister's whole family (plus Delia) will then come to Ann Arbor to see the dress rehearsal of the Christmas play being done by the high schoolers at the church where Delia's pre-school is. (Scott's sister's sister-in-law has worked there for years, and they've made a tradition of attending). That starts in four hours. I hope the roads are clear enough for them to travel safely.
That gives me about three and a half hours to work on the rewrite. Time to put in some music and get to it. I'm determined to post the dratted thing tonight. This week's going to be stressful enough without that adding to it.
