Friday, October 13, 2006

Chapter Nineteen done

Panera today. I've been trying to decide if I get more work done in coffeeshops or at home. I greatly fear I have to come down on the side of coffee shops. The cat, the dog, the housework, dinner, the garden ... everything breaks my concentration at home. At a coffeeshop there's nothing but myriads of Yuppies in my face. Nolo contendere, basically.

I listened, day before yesterday, in the southern of our two Paneras, to two young women talk about fox hunting. Rich women, obviously. They ride. They squabble with others for positions of leadership in the 'hunt'. They say catty things about other women. They're obviously physically intrepid. They buy and sell expensive horses. They travel to Colorado or Ireland and do the same thing there.

But their horses are at 'the trainer'. For three months or six months. It is the trainer who will care for and condition the horse and teach it what to do. These women just ride the result.

They have affairs with men and buy them expensive presents. But men last only a few months. They want no children. They speak of children in the same tone one might speak of kittens and poodles. Cute, but too much trouble.

I was not struck by the emptiness of these women -- that's not a special preserve of the rich. God knows there are empty grocery clerks and college students and childcare providers. (Though I will say these two seemed particularly devoid of joy and sorrow ... as untouched as cotton swabs by the dark, bright and powerful of humanity.)

What impressed me was their vast sense of entitlement. The sun is their sun. The stars shine particularly for them.

This is what black people never have. This is what elves have ripped from them when they chose to become human.

They left and didn't bus their trays. Oh yes.

Finished Chapter ... what is it ... Chapter Nineteen. 2400 words. Chapter Nineteen is Sebastian's POV for Lazarus meeting and includes the fight scene. Now in Chapter Twenty we go back to Jess' POV for the bargaining and sale scene.
I think I've hit 60K words on the final draft. Hard to tell because I have comments scattered in there.


  1. >>What impressed me was their vast sense of entitlement. The sun is their sun. The stars shine particularly for them. <<

    Oh, yech! I work in a rather affluent area and I see this sort of 'tude regularly. It makes me sick! I would so like to tell them to get over themselves, already! (But my manners are better than that. ;))

    So do you have some method for tuning out such distractions in order to get any *writing* done? I am sure I'd spend all my time people-watching. {g}

  2. I find I need the distraction. I can write better if I have to kind of fight to keep my attention centered.


  3. Really!? Huh. Not me! Quite the opposite.

    (But, gee, if ever you can't get out, I have a resident drummer and a TV-watching sports fan I could lend you. {g})