Don’t know about you, but the heat is driving me crazy around here.
I’ve been skulking indoors all week, doing the things that need doing and spending most of my free time stretched out on the couch reading Harry Potter. Apparently so much so that when the alarm went off this morning (at 4:10am, but more on that later) I realized I was already awake, concentrating hard on what it means to really be a Hufflepuff.
Let me tell you, Rowling may not be all that interested in the Hufflepuffs, but my subconscious is going to get to the bottom of those characters stat. It’s that important.
When I woke up for the second time (much closer to my usual 9:45) I was thinking about Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, a player on one of the Hogwarts Quidditch teams. Apparently the subtleties of that character also require intense plumbing.
I am ON this thing.
Joel had to catch an insanely early flight this morning in Detroit, so he jaunted over to our place last night for the evening. We had a nice, laid back kind of evening. Double solitaire until Carl came home followed up by some Plants vs. Zombies, brownies, and the old arcade X-Men. You know, quality bonding.
Besides the laundry and other housey jobs, the writing continues in fragmented bits—a smattering of those random moments where you think oh, she’s a WIDOW, that makes it so much more interesting or I really kind of like the name Angus Finchey-Phelps; it’s so WODEHOUSE and grabbing a 3×5 card in order to scribble it down properly.
Speaking of 3×5 cards, did you know that Nabokov wrote most of his novels on them? Not “used them to contain pieces of research he consulted while writing” but drafted the actual text on a huge series of notecards? According to Wikipedia:
Index cards were like his laptop and text editor: portable, in that he could write in the car while his wife drove him across the Western US on butterfly expeditions, and easily editable, because their order could be reshuffled.
In case you missed it, my favorite part of that sentence is the bit where he wrote “in the car while his wife drove him across the Western US on butterfly expeditions.” Not on vacations. Butterfly expeditions. Of course.
If you like index cards or hipsters, you’ve probably seen this website, but it’s worth the link anyway. Especially enjoyable for those of you whose loved ones are addicted to their Blackberries and iPhones.
All I’ve got for now. The laundry calls.