nonionay | (no subject)

I'm on Orcas Island right now, getting away from it all, editing The Blood Rose, still unable to come up with a new title. I decided to come out here in the middle of the week, figuring that missed work was worth the lack of crowds. It's mahvelous. I kind of wish I had something ready to write on, since lying on a futon, being discerning with a red pen doesn't have quite the glamour of typing ecstatically on a rocky bluff full of fresh inspiration.
Ooh... San's sweet potato chips are really good!
Yesterday, in order to fil the time before we could check in our cabin, we had a picnic and hiked around Cascade lake at Moran State Park. Because of a detour around a busted bridge, it was almost four miles on a surprisingly hilly trail. But the Dead Perverts trekked onwards, questing for a quest, and puppies to pet. Towards the end, I was staring at some fascinating spiderwebs when the trail suddenly decided to narrow on me, and I stepped into open air. I survived with a nicked knee, and two blood blisters on my hand, and one less hit point.

The cabin turned out to be even cheaper than I expected. So here we are, in blessed near solitude, surrounded by bunnies and dead jelly fish.

In the evening, after exploring the campground (we want to bring the critique group out here sometime and hang out in the yurts and Gnome Dome) we each gave a panel on some predetermined topic. (Did I mention this was to be a con?)

kaerfel did voice and likable characters,

csinman did historical fiction, and

kehrli talked about using linguistics to form a fantasy world and plot. I lectured on intrigue, and was amazed at how coherent I sounded.

This morning I woke up at dawn to sit in a chair overlooking the water. I watched herons and seals and seagulls and swarming fish in blissful pink silence. For breakfast, we had planned pancakes, but needed milk. The resort store was closed, so Keffy and I drove into Olga, where their store was also closed. Fortunately, this meant we went out on their ong, rickety dock and watched a crab worry open a clam with it's claws. When the store did open, it proved to be as useful as a post-apocalyptic convenience store. Their selection was sparse and random. They had a huge freezer with nothing in it but two hundred Otter Pops. We got milk, but not our other dream purchases-- a case of Mt Dew and Cheetos.

After breakfast, I walked to the beach. On the last step, I was staring at what looked like a bird on the water, and promptly stepped into open air, yet again. This time, I screwed up my foot. I didn't twist it, thankfully, but some tendons on the top of my foot are swollen, and I'm a-hobbling. And crap, now it's asleep. (Do you have any idea how weird that feels?)

So here I am, sitting on a futon, San snoring beside me, robins staring at me from outside. I've got an almost complete, hopefully saleable novel eight inches away, and some kick-ass sweet-potato chips.