Even though I said I don’t like end-of-year overviews; I saw this on a couple of friends’ blogs and it looks like fun. First sentence (or first couple of sentences if it’s unclear otherwise) of the first post in every month, linked and commented. I’m surprised I actually managed to write at least one post every month, though sometimes it’s quite late (August, September) or there’s only one post in the whole month (June and again September).
January 1: So it’s 2014. I’ve done all the 2013 dishes, not because of any resolution to do housework, but because they were there and I was awake and downstairs alone and thinking about writing.
Well, I kept two out of three of my non-resolutions: I blogged more and with less guilt, and I published the expletive-deleted book. Didn’t finish the other expletive-deleted book, though, because real life and the book itself and the other work-in-revision got in the way.
February 4: This is partly a reply to Felix, because the indentation got out of hand, but also some general musing about the post-publishing state.
Best sentence in that post: “Which of the things I did to procrastinate with will I do now there’s no reason to procrastinate?” — All of the things, it turned out. And I still don’t know where The Reluctant King or whatever it’s called really ends. (Also, I’ve come to hate it, but I know that stage of editing and I’m confident that it will pass.)
March 1: Birthday presents from other half: an overdress/apron to wear with my newish medievaloid clothes (I already had an apron that I like a lot, but it’s far too short to keep cooking stains off my ankle-length skirts), as well as something to wear on my head.
I don’t wear the things on my head as often as I thought when I got them; I feel more self-conscious about it than I’d like.
April 2: Thinking aloud. Warning: some of the thoughts may tend to the heretical. I’m not trying to voice dogma, just groping around speculatively.
Yes, that’s still a nice bit of thinky-thought. Now I’m going to church regularly again after six weeks of cough and voicelessness I may have more of those.
May 1: Rachel Pollack, Unquenchable Fire
Review of a very uncomfortable book. And I still think of it every time I pass a certain New Age shop (are those still called that?) around the corner.
June 6: So it’s that delightful season between spring and summer.
Wrote this for Heather Rose Jones (the link goes to her equivalent post) because she wanted to know why my rhubarb was hapless.
July 9: Every summer there’s a temporary floating art exposition in our town park.
Features happy birds. Pictures of happy birds, even.
August 20: I’ve been rereading the Elemental Masters series by Mercedes Lackey (and have now also read all but one of the new books in the series) and I intend to write at least a little bit about each one.
I didn’t complete the whole of the intention because I was finishing the last ones on the way to Germany and didn’t blog on holiday, though I had the laptop with me to write. Didn’t write either, not on the laptop anyway: I did some research and wrote pages and pages of longhand, mostly reflections of the research.
September 22: We’ve been back for a week now, and everything has faded enough from my immediate memory that I can actually write about it without obsessively recording all the details.
… and that’s reflections of Germany. With pictures.
October 1: But oh, I so wanted to read it. Called Bringing Saint Bridget, I think YA, set in Ireland in roughly the 1970s or anyway in the second half of the twentieth century.
This is a thing it turns out I can’t write because I don’t know the background and the setting doesn’t interest me enough to do the research.
November 10: Paul Biegel, Tante Mathilde en de Sterren van de Grote Beer
Gah, aren’t there more interesting reading posts to fall first in a month?
December 1: I know I ought really to think that any kind of joke is an inferior art form, but I love this one.
It’s not a joke anyway, but a parable, as Adrian helpfully pointed out.
At least this post isn’t the first of the month, so it won’t be a recursive exercise if I do it again next year!