February 20th, 2012


[links] Link salad cruises into a new work week

Crossing the demesne of dreams and fears — Urban fantasy author J.A. Pitts on reaching into his writing.

Paul Guinan and Anina Bennett's 'Frank Reade' may enjoy Steampunk-powered boost — (Via my Dad.)

The blended senses of synesthesiaSynesthetes can taste numbers, feel colors or have other sensations triggered by sensations. Studies of their brains could provide clues for neurological disorders. Some tastes have color and shape for me.

My brain. I think I'll keep it. — Sonia Lyris documents a middle aged moment as silly as anything my chemo brain ever came up with.

Physicists Create a Working Transistor From a Single Atom/a>

Being Privileged 101: "Privilege is not a synonym for douchebag" — Yep. (Vis @HalloranElder.)

Animal rights group says drone shot down — Welcome to the future.

Earth is losing 39 cubic miles of ice per year — Darn that liberal bias in reality.

US Interventions in the World since WW II

What Got Lost in the Debate About Birth Control — I know what got found: a lot more people woke up to the fact that American conservatism is all about intimate government control of their personal lives. Hey, GOP, keep showing your true colors. Those swing voters will run away from you like their hair was on fire.

?otd: Monday again? Whose idea was this, anyway?

Writing time yesterday: 5.0 hours (Sunspin revisions)
Body movement: 30 minute stationary bicycle ride
Hours slept: 7.0 (solid)
Weight: 235.4
Currently reading: 1491 by Charles C. Mann


[dreams] Always more with the postcards from the subconscious

Two nights ago, I dreamt I was hanging out with [info]kenscholes and Mrs. [info]kenscholes. For some reason it was very important for me to buy her a coat. (In real life, she works in the fashion industry, so this was more than a little odd — why would she need that from me?) The coat search became a desperate hunt.

Last night I dreamt I was at a casino with some friends from the Day Jobbe. It was a very strange place, sort of the Hotel California brought to life, but without the warm smell of colitas rising up through the air. The ominously not present owner had hired a large number of attractive young women with whom the guests were absolutely forbidden to flirt or otherwise engage. It was some kind of weird contest and power game. C— from work wasn't having this, and kept trying to chat up these women. I kept trying to get him to leave, in which I only succeeded by promising to chat them up myself. Then out in the snowy, cold parking lot we could not find the exit.

Anxiety much?


[writing] Being less of a chicken about the Sunspin readaloud

Apparently I am coming to grips with the reading aloud question [ jlake.com | LiveJournal ]. Yesterday I put in several hours on Calamity of So Long a Life with GhostReader, which seems to process about 45 pages per hour through its text-to-speech engine, working at a pace that I can track along with in the manuscript file.

This is both interesting and a little frustrating. I do suspect if I were reading it myself, I'd catch a few more things, but GhostReader is still helping me a lot. The flat, 1990s style computer voice borders on the distracting, and it's not optimized for manuscript format, so scene breaks are handled a bit strangely. Still, this has gotten me past my logjam. I reckon another 12-13 hours of work to make it all the way through with GhostReader, then another few hours to clean up things as noted. Plus I need to process a couple of more sets of last-first reader feedback.

Still on track for the month end, and maybe a little earlier.