Progress-And-A-Half
Mar. 1st, 2012 12:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madwriterI technically knocked out 2200 words last Friday and then 800 more on Monday, but I never got around to posting about those since I ultimately chopped up most of the 2200 almost immediately, rewrote on Monday, and came up with the 800 as a net gain.
Starting this Monday my writing time will be reduced--I'll be going into work two hours early every day for the rest of the semester, which works out to me getting ready for work shortly after I'd otherwise be sitting down to write. But I'll just make myself wake up a little earlier, and in the meantime I'll be getting what essentially works out to being overtime every week for two or three months, which I hope to transform into trip money when I head to Arizona this June.
PROGRESS REPORT FOR 2/29/12
New Words: 1200 on Chapter 3 ("Spirit, Faith, and Reason") of Arizona. The officer overseeing the soldiers at the Awatovi pueblo accepts a big bribe from the new and greedy governor to start undermining the friars there.
Total Words: 102900. Admittedly I'd be more excited about the 100K landmark if I wasn't still just on Chapter 3 (out of 8). :)
Reason For Stopping: Finished the scene and had other work to attend to.
Book Year: 1638.
Mammalian Assistance: Brief visits from Vegas, Friday, and Nate.
Exercise: Round trip walk to the library.
Stimulants: Dr. Pepper.
Submissions Sent Out In February: 3 (albeit all with more than one piece per sub.)
Total Submissions Out Right Now: 6. The oldest is coming up on 11 months.
Today's Opening Passage: Over the next year life for the Hopitu, Franciscans, and soldiers was uneasy but peaceful across the western pueblos. But when the war between Church and State reasserted itself, the pueblos’ isolation that until then guaranteed they would mostly be left alone by the government’s greed—a rapaciousness savaging the eastern pueblos—finally began to crumble.
Darling Du Jour: “I will protest this in Santa Fe,” Fray Bernardo growled, startling Miguel. “I will protest this in Mexico City if I obtain no satisfaction from the governor.”
Cristobal jumped to his feet and loomed over the table. “And what will you say, friar, when I tell the governor and the viceroy that you have allowed the Moqui to keep their heathen ceremonies and dances, ay? How will you answer those charges?”
It was true—where Fray Francisco had burned and forbidden, Fray Bernardo quietly turned a half-blind eye, the seeing half slowly devoted towards turning those pagan ceremonies into Christian ones the same way the ancient and medieval missionaries of Europe did. Once it was clear that no more Kachina masks and prayer sticks would be burned, most of the Awatovi villagers, and even many of those in Walpi, started flocking to services. But it was likely not a tactic that would meet his superiors’ approval.
“And do you think your supply wagons appear by magic?” the captain pressed. “The supplies have to be paid for, and the drivers, and the soldiers to guard them, and the wagons themselves. How long would your mission last if the wagons stopped coming?”
“But it’s the law,” Miguel sputtered. “One wagon per two friars…”
Cristobal glared down at the young friar to show him exactly what the captain thought of the law when his personal wealth and social advancement were at stake.
Fray Bernardo rose with barely restrained calm to meet Cristobal eye to eye. “Have you no hope of Heaven, captain, or fear of Hell?” He added something that might plunge deeper into the captain’s heart: “Have you no honor?”
“Keep to your own kind, Fray Bernardo,” Cristobal advised him, “and I shall keep to mine.”
Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: Farmer; Bragg; Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins.
Starting this Monday my writing time will be reduced--I'll be going into work two hours early every day for the rest of the semester, which works out to me getting ready for work shortly after I'd otherwise be sitting down to write. But I'll just make myself wake up a little earlier, and in the meantime I'll be getting what essentially works out to being overtime every week for two or three months, which I hope to transform into trip money when I head to Arizona this June.
New Words: 1200 on Chapter 3 ("Spirit, Faith, and Reason") of Arizona. The officer overseeing the soldiers at the Awatovi pueblo accepts a big bribe from the new and greedy governor to start undermining the friars there.
Total Words: 102900. Admittedly I'd be more excited about the 100K landmark if I wasn't still just on Chapter 3 (out of 8). :)
Reason For Stopping: Finished the scene and had other work to attend to.
Book Year: 1638.
Mammalian Assistance: Brief visits from Vegas, Friday, and Nate.
Exercise: Round trip walk to the library.
Stimulants: Dr. Pepper.
Submissions Sent Out In February: 3 (albeit all with more than one piece per sub.)
Total Submissions Out Right Now: 6. The oldest is coming up on 11 months.
Today's Opening Passage: Over the next year life for the Hopitu, Franciscans, and soldiers was uneasy but peaceful across the western pueblos. But when the war between Church and State reasserted itself, the pueblos’ isolation that until then guaranteed they would mostly be left alone by the government’s greed—a rapaciousness savaging the eastern pueblos—finally began to crumble.
Darling Du Jour: “I will protest this in Santa Fe,” Fray Bernardo growled, startling Miguel. “I will protest this in Mexico City if I obtain no satisfaction from the governor.”
Cristobal jumped to his feet and loomed over the table. “And what will you say, friar, when I tell the governor and the viceroy that you have allowed the Moqui to keep their heathen ceremonies and dances, ay? How will you answer those charges?”
It was true—where Fray Francisco had burned and forbidden, Fray Bernardo quietly turned a half-blind eye, the seeing half slowly devoted towards turning those pagan ceremonies into Christian ones the same way the ancient and medieval missionaries of Europe did. Once it was clear that no more Kachina masks and prayer sticks would be burned, most of the Awatovi villagers, and even many of those in Walpi, started flocking to services. But it was likely not a tactic that would meet his superiors’ approval.
“And do you think your supply wagons appear by magic?” the captain pressed. “The supplies have to be paid for, and the drivers, and the soldiers to guard them, and the wagons themselves. How long would your mission last if the wagons stopped coming?”
“But it’s the law,” Miguel sputtered. “One wagon per two friars…”
Cristobal glared down at the young friar to show him exactly what the captain thought of the law when his personal wealth and social advancement were at stake.
Fray Bernardo rose with barely restrained calm to meet Cristobal eye to eye. “Have you no hope of Heaven, captain, or fear of Hell?” He added something that might plunge deeper into the captain’s heart: “Have you no honor?”
“Keep to your own kind, Fray Bernardo,” Cristobal advised him, “and I shall keep to mine.”
Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: Farmer; Bragg; Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins.
