MissMeliss: Escribition

Last night, Zorro got lost in the bathroom.

Now, my bathroom is pretty big, but he’s gone in there several times a day for water, every day for two years now, so he should know his way around.

Last night, however, something changed. He went in for water, and didn’t come out. We heard a scratching at the door, and I thought he was scratching at the bedroom door, signalling a need to visit the back yard. But Fuzzy said the sound wasn’t coming from the right place. He got out of bed, walked into the bathroom and called, “Zorro…” and waited.

My poor old Zorro dog had been scratching at the inside of the partly opened bathroom door, apparently having walked behind it, instead of through it, on his attempt to come back to bed.

We hugged him and told him we still loved him, even if he’s getting old and rangey.

He just sighed and went to sleep.

Rob Brezny writes:

Most flowers depend on pollinators to reproduce. Birds and insects brush up against a flower’s male parts, picking up pollen that they leave on the female parts of the next flower they visit. But nature has created an anomaly that doesn’t play by these rules. A wild orchid known as Holcoglossum amesianum fecundates itself. Its male bits actually move, carrying out a complicated maneuver to reach around and down to deposit pollen directly into its female portions. This orchid is your power symbol, Leo. I hope it encourages you to learn more about self-fertilization–to increase your mastery of the underappreciated art of inspiring and teaching and taking care of yourself. Halloween costume suggestion: a hermaphrodite carrying a wild orchid.

Somewhat appropriately, I’ve loved orchids ever since I first started reading Nero Wolfe novels when I was eight or nine. I even had a pet orchid once, but it got too cold and died. They’re surprisingly difficult to maintain in non-tropical environments.

Despite the headache, I’ve been really writey yesterday and this morning. Fanfic is posted to my writing blog - currently I’m playing with a Snape-fic and a Geordi-fic. (See Rana, not all my tastes are disturbing…Geordi’s wholesome. And, you know, not evil.) The original short stories are coming out a little slower, but they’re coming along nevertheless. I’m not worried. And NaNoWriMo begins on Weds, and I’ve got an Idea, and am not saying more.

Like the orchid, my creativity has been difficult to cultivate lately. I get discouraged, and writing is so internal, and I always think everything I write completely sucks. I’m learning, slowly, not to care if it sucks, because the suckage can be corrected. Hence the sharing of fanfic, and the short stories and…stuff.

So, yeah, I’m not terribly chatty these days, but that’s cuz there are orchids blooming in my mind.

Woke up to head hurting, pressure like my brain’s going to explode, but not sinus, and feeling queasy and horrid.
Drank water and took pain meds.
Still feel like brain is pulsing.
Napped some.
Ate something.
Napped some more.
No change.
More pain meds.
More water.
And some cranberry juice.
Emailed CSz director, and let him know could not make show tonight.
(I feel *that* bad)
Called also, but he replied as I was leaving message.
More water.
Some tea.
Then more sleep.
I wish I could make the room darker.
*sigh*

- Working on the short stories in fits and snatches. Am too easily distracted. Need some kind of competition.

- Posted chapter two of Snapefic “Plans” and 2nd fanfic100 TNG fanfic to my blog at MoonChilde.com. Also posted them to fanfiction.net. Username is Ms.Snarky.

- Am re-reading Liner Notes which has inspired me to write more. (Great book, highly recommended.)

- Have urge to bake chocolate chip cookies.

- Am woefully behind in correspondence. Writing letters TODAY. Really. No, REALLY.

(Mooched from MoonChylde at LJ)

The folks at Wired write:

We’ll be brief: Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words (”For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”) and is said to have called it his best work. So we asked sci-fi, fantasy, and horror writers from the realms of books, TV, movies, and games to take a shot themselves.

To read the offerings they received, go here. (Opens in new window) Then come back and get creative, if you dare, by posting your own Six Word Story in comments.

Mine (as posted in my friend MoonChylde’s livejournal):
Drought expanded. Seattle survivors remembered rain.

It is a grey, damp, autumn day, of the sort which require the warm glow of lamplight to soften the edges of life.

It is the kind of day best suited for tea, soup, and grilled cheese, for lit candles and the quiet murmur of NPR, for hiding in a garrett and scribbling.

And so that is the plan.

Except, I don’t have a garrett, but a 2nd-floor bedroom-turned-officestudio.
But it’s in the treetops, so it counts, right?