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Booya! in arcadia ego
Feb. 6th, 2006 04:57 pmWriting talk of the day: Wow, I hit the ground running today. A 1750 word session on Night Warrior/Born to Darkness to finish off this section of the book. Which means I will probably pull Eudora's Song and post another new chapter by the end of the week.
This section was especially gnarly for me. When I started it, I realized a whole big chunk needed to go into a previous section so I had to backtrack and add another chapter in the 6th century. This made me feel like I was losing forward momentum. But I'm good now, I think. And I have part of the next section already written, so we'll see how it goes.
Quote of the day: This quote from Tom Stoppard's Arcadia (my all time favorite Stoppard play) was wending its way through my mind on the drive to work this morning. Septimus Hodge, a Byronesque tutor of a brilliant young girl, is consoling her when she becomes grief stricken over the loss of knowledge when the great library of Alexandia burned down in ancient times:
"We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it."
--Septimus Hodge, Arcadia by Tom Stoppard
( Musings cut out of pity for the flist. )
This section was especially gnarly for me. When I started it, I realized a whole big chunk needed to go into a previous section so I had to backtrack and add another chapter in the 6th century. This made me feel like I was losing forward momentum. But I'm good now, I think. And I have part of the next section already written, so we'll see how it goes.
Quote of the day: This quote from Tom Stoppard's Arcadia (my all time favorite Stoppard play) was wending its way through my mind on the drive to work this morning. Septimus Hodge, a Byronesque tutor of a brilliant young girl, is consoling her when she becomes grief stricken over the loss of knowledge when the great library of Alexandia burned down in ancient times:
"We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it."
--Septimus Hodge, Arcadia by Tom Stoppard
( Musings cut out of pity for the flist. )