I mentioned that Jonathan and I did the Golden Circle tour yesterday. We started at ÃƒÅ¾ingvellir.
I know that you’ve seen lots of landscape photos, but it still amazes me how much it can change with the seasons without trees as the indicator.
Of course, I guess snow on the mountain is dead giveaway that it’s colder.
Even so, the moss and lichen has a more subdued quality. Things seem more ethereal now, but that might just be because I’m looking at a hobbit hole.
We passed a turf house on the way to Geysir.
We also got to visit with a herd of horses. We pulled off the road to take some photos and they all wandered up to visit with us.
This particular horse fell in love with Jonathan and followed him like a dog.
When we got to Geysir it was still light enough for photos, which it wasn’t when I went there with Mom and Dad. I didn’t get a good photo of the geysir, but I did get a nice photo of this pool This photo is not color enhanced, it really glowed this unearthly blue. It looked like a UV light was under the water somewhere.
Today Jonathon Judge and I did a tour of the Golden Circle. Most of the places were things that I’ve been to before like Thingvellir, but we also went to Gullfoss which I did not manage to take Mom and Dad to when they were here. It was spectacular and the photos do not do justice to the torent of water that thunders down. I don’t use the word thunder lightly here. It is quite loud.
I’m very proud of myself. I spent yesterday writing, with time off for good behaivor to run some errands, and reached 12,519 words last night, which means I’m a quarter of the way through my goal.
I also talked with Fanney, who is a local NaNoWriMo participant. I think it is possible that we have nothing in common except the effort to write a novel in a month. She is nineteen, into vampires, and obsessed with the t.v. show Alias, which I’ve never even heard of. Nonetheless, we are going to meet at a coffee house tonight and spend an hour or so writing in company. I say coffee house, but really I think it will be IÃƒÂ°a, which is a bookstore/cafe, because Fanney does not drink Coffee or Tea, only coke.
Meanwhile, I’ve been writing this morning and am at 13,797 words. Just to amuse you, here are the first thirteen lines of Chapter 1. I don’t usually show you rough drafts, and that’s what this is because I’m writing and not going back to reread. I’ll go back and flesh out a section, but no rewrites till the whole thing is done.
Scott Huang ran out of the Tube with the rest of the rush hour crowd and sprinted toward the door of the precinct. He was not late, but he wanted some time at his desk before his shift started. The officers on the night shift were just coming back to the station to log out, but the other members of the homicide department had not turned up for work yet. Most importantly, Cameron M. Oakes the Fourth had not shown up yet. He liked his F&B collegue, but the flesh-and-blood detective was not as much fun as his A.I. counterpart.
As Huang reached his desk, Metta’s cameras swiveled in his direction. He held still to let her make the I.D. Faster than he could draw a breath, the A.I. knew him and powered up his desktop interface.
I fell way behind in my writing goal yesterday. I only managed to get 568 words written, but I do have an opportunity to name drop. Although this will only be impressive you have children the right age.
I met Steve from Blue’s Clues. He’s a friend of Jonathon (our director) and came out to visit. He is as nice in person as you would expect from seeing him on television. Sadly, I chose to go out with the gang rather than coming home to write.
I did write once I got home, but was falling asleep while typing. I feel a little distress that my writing did not seem to suffer that much… Today I’m trying to make up for lost ground and have my word count up to 9671. At 10,000 I’ll be back at the minimum count I need to finish by the end of November.
Today I worked the periscope, which the villain uses to spy on the kids. Although it is essentially just eyes on a stick, it still felt good to work a puppet by myself. I enjoy the seconding, but it’s sometimes frustrating when a puppeteer turns to me and says, “That arm was too high” and it’s their arm. I just smile and nod and say, “Okay.”
I spent the rest of the day doing standard fetching of carts and cushions.
In answer to your question. Do sixty-four percent of Icelanders really believe in trolls? No. The actual number is closer to eighty percent, but I thought that might not be as believable. Iceland Today – What’s on in Iceland – Elves
Our yoga teacher didn’t come today because he was sick. We had all dragged ourselves out of bed and turned up, so we sort of took turns leading the exercises. I wouldn’t say it was a very centering or energizing experience, but at least we got to stretch.
I’m not going to be posting any of the novel I’m working on till it’s finished because then I’d be tempted to rewrite. This month is all about just trying to get the words down on the page. But, I will post the first thirteen lines of a new short story.
You guys are the first ones to read this. Let me know if you want to read the whole thing. 3700 words. Fantasy.
by Mary Robinette Kowal
New York. 9:45 a.m. Tuesday.
Maxwell Sanders pressed the phone closer to his ear as if that would somehow bring comprehension. “Did you say trolls?”
“Yes, Max.” Amalia’s voice conveyed an image of rigid posture.
“Let me repeat what I just heard.” He ran a hand over his scalp. “Trolls have shut down the aluminum plant construction and you want to redo the plans to appease them?”
“Yes, Max.” Static hissed faintly on the line, reminding him that she was in Iceland. “I know what it sounds like, but sixty-four percent of the population here believe in fairies, elves, and trolls. So when the foreman tells me they won’t continue working because we’re intruding into troll territory I can’t just ignore him.”
Rob and I have been discussing selling the house and moving out of the country. Looks like we’ll be doing it. We had talked about Germany or England, but now I’m thinking that Iceland looks good. So…anyone want a nice home in NE Portland?
We’re so far ahead of the U.S. time zones that I’m having to wait forever to hear the results. The polls closed at five a.m. here. Now it’s 9:45 a.m., but they won’t even start counting in Ohio until three p.m. Everyone is talking about the election and wondering what the outcome will be.
Heavens, I forgot to mention that a volcano erupted this morning. It’s on the other side of the country in a glacier, so I’m in no danger at all. It’s the first thing that everyone asks today. “Have you heard about the volcano?”
I figure, between the volcano and the Red Sox winning the World Series that it’s the end of the world.
While I did plenty of work today, the thing I had the most fun with was Bessie’s music video, Secret Agent Man. Lots of dancing and Bond moves with the arms. It was fun, but I’m exhausted. These shots always seem to happen after massage. Why can’t they happen before massage?
I shouldn’t need to tell you this but Stop reading this and go vote!
Some of the Americans here are going down to the Embassy because their absentee ballots have not arrived yet. It’s hard to vote overseas, so those of you at home had darn well better take advantage of being able to hop in a car and drive to the nearest polling station.
The Embassy is hosting an election night event tonight, but I’m unclear on how late it will run since it will be five a.m. in Iceland when the last poll will closes.
Ginger Stuyvesant, an American heiress living in London during World War I, is engaged to Captain Benjamin Harford, an intelligence officer. Ginger is a medium for the Spirit Corps, a special Spiritualist force. Each soldier heading for the front is conditioned to report to the mediums of the Spirit Corps when they die so the Corps […]