It’s 70.3 degrees Fahrenheit in this room right now (a word I apparently can’t spell, thanks Google). I know this because of a wonderful gift from a friend. It’s a thermometer shaped like a penguin that is meant for pools. I don’t own a pool but I do live in a place with a temperature and that puts me over the bare minimum for what is necessary to enjoy it. I like to glance over at it throughout the day and watch as the temperature slowly rises by a few tenths of a degree each hour throughout the day.
I don’t know how much of that is me or my computer. Further how much of it is from the poor insulation and ambient heat coming in from the outside. No matter the answer it is a lot of fun and given how much I love numbers (and temperatures) this is an unusually welcome gift. I’m far more interested in the temperature than, say, the time.
Writing is moving along swimmingly. What is being created is a clutter mess that feels like a manifestation of the environment that its being created in. Each day is quick, eclectic, and unprepared for. I just drop myself into the scene and see what comes next. This is akin to how I used to write back in high school and it can be incredibly fun.
The biggest problem is separating out how each person talks to give them a unique personality. At the end of the day I’m me and when I design new characters I can often make them just one of many shades of myself.
Life itself is moving along. Though I am still not fully up to speed on my work tasks I am feeling pretty good about how things are going. I think once I’m situated and working in LA it’ll be a satisfying experience. The book, as scheduled, should be finished by the 30th of November. However I don’t know if I’d be comfortable selling it in that state.
I could easily edit it in a few days after that though.