Picking An Anniversary Date
Sep. 26th, 2012 07:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madwriterToday marks the one year anniversary of working on Arizona. For me, such a literary anniversary means the date that I physically began writing. I actually started my sit-down serious research on it in the summer of 2010. Or if you want to count when I first decided to write a giant epic historical novel about Arizona, then this past June, when I appropriately traveled out to the state itself, would mark the 25th anniversary.
Also appropriately, today's mail brought me a copy of Arizona: A Panoramic History of a Frontier State by Marshall Trimble, the historian I was lucky enough to spend a sizable portion of my first morning out there with.
Vital statistics on this anniversary day:
PROGRESS REPORT
New Words: 1100 on chapter 7 ("The Scalphunters") of Arizona. Cochise smiles. Actually more happens than that, but in a backhanded way this point becomes rather important.
Total Words: 182150.
Reason For Stopping: Quality time with the Mrs., then getting ready for work.
Book Year: 1834.
Mammalian Assistance: Vegas' usual, after he followed me around the house trying to remind me that I was late getting to work and needed to start.
Exercise: Walked down to campus.
Stimulants: A glass-bottled sugar Coke. Hopefully not the store's last one; I snagged the last two that were on the shelf at the time.
Today's Opening Passage: Finn ventured out into the next trading and trapping season, in early 1834, wondering how much he loved Solana and her family at the expense of the rest of Arizona.
Darling Du Jour: The camp was high in the snow-capped Dragoons and beside, as always, a fair bit of water—this time a couple of active springs pouring into what became creeks farther down. The whole camp was lively with music, dancing, and feasting; had they been Irish Finn would’ve thought he’d stumbled on a late Christmas celebration of the sort the church might frown upon but the people’s ancient Celtic blood refused to silence. The Apache had no churches and no holidays Finn knew of, but they certainly knew how to celebrate.
Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: Kelton; Sarmiento; A Year Down Yonder by Richard Peck.
Also appropriately, today's mail brought me a copy of Arizona: A Panoramic History of a Frontier State by Marshall Trimble, the historian I was lucky enough to spend a sizable portion of my first morning out there with.
Vital statistics on this anniversary day:
New Words: 1100 on chapter 7 ("The Scalphunters") of Arizona. Cochise smiles. Actually more happens than that, but in a backhanded way this point becomes rather important.
Total Words: 182150.
Reason For Stopping: Quality time with the Mrs., then getting ready for work.
Book Year: 1834.
Mammalian Assistance: Vegas' usual, after he followed me around the house trying to remind me that I was late getting to work and needed to start.
Exercise: Walked down to campus.
Stimulants: A glass-bottled sugar Coke. Hopefully not the store's last one; I snagged the last two that were on the shelf at the time.
Today's Opening Passage: Finn ventured out into the next trading and trapping season, in early 1834, wondering how much he loved Solana and her family at the expense of the rest of Arizona.
Darling Du Jour: The camp was high in the snow-capped Dragoons and beside, as always, a fair bit of water—this time a couple of active springs pouring into what became creeks farther down. The whole camp was lively with music, dancing, and feasting; had they been Irish Finn would’ve thought he’d stumbled on a late Christmas celebration of the sort the church might frown upon but the people’s ancient Celtic blood refused to silence. The Apache had no churches and no holidays Finn knew of, but they certainly knew how to celebrate.
Non-Research / Review Books In Progress: Kelton; Sarmiento; A Year Down Yonder by Richard Peck.
