Procrastination via blogging: take 387.

It’s Saturday again, which means I’m once again faced with a mountain of household chores that desperately need doing. So, hey, blog update!

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I’ve actually spent much of the morning in a somewhat productive manner, working on Chosen and finally making some progress on a scene I’ve been struggling with for about a week now. The problem with having two highly complex and complicated individuals as your main characters is that it’s pretty damned hard to get them to have a straightforward conversation with each other, but I think I’ve finally got them heading in the right direction. After said scene is finally finished, I can go back to the arduous task of reading through the finished book again and again to make sure everything makes sense and I haven’t accidentally created an utter piece of crap instead of a Grand Opus fifteen years in the making.

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No pressure, though.

bc-mrdefrin-brownhairI’ve also been realizing, more and more, just how desperately in love I am with Mr. Defrin, to the point that I’m pretty seriously considering writing a prequel from his point of view at some point in the future. I’d like to start when he’s relatively young, then take it all the way up to the events of Chosen, ‘cuz, damn, I adore him. And not just because I’ve cast Benedict Cumberbatch to play him in the Sure To Actually Happen movie adaptation of the book.

No, my love for Mr. Defrin is rooted in the fact that I both long to be like him and want someone like him in my life. He’s calm and patient, intelligent, has a good sense of humor, and cares for the people around him so deeply that he’s willing to make any sacrifice necessary to keep them safe. He’s a mentor, friend, and substitute father for Kaine, and while he makes mistakes from time to time, he always tries to do what’s right, and to protect the people around him. He’s just…*flutter-sigh* Ohhhh, Mr. Defrin. <3

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Er, anyway, though.

Moving on. I don’t actually have much else to say, as I think I used up my daily allotment of coherence during my writing session this morning. All I can think about now is finding something good to eat for lunch, and then maybe collapsing onto my bed and thinking about how great it would be if I could clean my apartment with the power of my mind.

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Use the Force, Luke. Those dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.

Until next time, friends.

Being Luke Skywalker (and other dreams of an 11-year-old girl)

luke-rotjSo, when I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to be Luke Skywalker. Not whiny farmboy Luke or patience-challenged who-is-this-muppet-and-where-the-hell-is-Yoda Luke, but kick-ass, calm and cool and awesome Return of the Jedi Luke.

To pursue this lofty goal (as, I should mention, an 11-year-old girl living in small-town Pennsylvania), I did a number of things. First, wardrobe. Very important. Black shirt, black pants, black boots, black leather glove on one hand. Check. Next, attitude. I amassed an impressive amount of Jedi knowledge through meticulous study of the three Star Wars films and related books, magazines, etc. Finally, action. I fenced for hours with various lightsaber-esque weapons (sticks, curtain rods, ski poles, etc.), I rode my bike at breakneck speeds to emulate the desperate flight through the forests of Endor on speeder bikes, and most importantly of all, I spent an inordinate amount of time staring at rocks and pencils and various other small objects, attempting to move them with the almighty power of my mind. (Sadly, the Force was not strong with me, though I did get rather adept at subtly tilting the table so the pencil I was concentrating on MIRACULOUSLY AND AMAZINGLY began to move as I stared at it.)

And in the end, did I achieve my goal of becoming Luke Skywalker? Well…in fact, no. But my time in pursuit of Jedi-dom did mold my psyche in some pretty deep, lasting ways. My sense of right and wrong, my urge to help people who need it (despite my own rather strong introvert tendencies), and the general sense that there’s good in most people, even if they’ve gone a wee bit crazy and murdered half the galaxy while wearing a freaky black mask. (And really, haven’t we all been there?)

My point, I suppose, is that Luke Skywalker was probably the biggest fictional role model of my young life, and even today I can see his influence on the way I think and how I view the world. And really, I’m okay with that. I still think Luke’s pretty awesome, and he represents a lot of the things I aspire to be. Will I ever be able to move objects with my mind and do crazy flips and communicate telepathically with my sister who I absolutely was not hitting on just one movie ago? Alas, probably not. But I’d like to think that I can at least aspire to be a calm, in-control person who always tries to do what’s right, and maybe looks pretty spiffy dressed all in black.

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Wise words, Luke. Wise words.