Editing is fun

Editing is nifty

If I’ve seen one red mark on this novel

I’ve seen fourteen thousand and fifty

Of course I do jest

I love your eagle eyes and your red pen

For at finding my mess ups, you are the best.

I owe you many thanks

I owe you many beers

And for all your hard work

I owe you some cash.

I could not realize

I could not imagine

How hard it is to listen

To truths about the story I knew inside, but could not express

Or write on the page

And the students leave for summer break in four days. Yay!

So another class goes into the world, ready for their next stage of their journey. I too am I on a journey, perhaps more important than their own.
Because the second the students walk, my four weeks of vacation may commence. Which makes me happy.

Anyway, what’s really more important? Young minds breaking out in the world, testing themselves and their freedoms for the first time or me? Survey says: me!

After mangling the landing Saturday, the pain in my left knee dropped off considerably. Over the counter anti inflammatories to the rescue. Ice and a knee brace took it the rest of the way.
It’s ironic I fell 11,000 feet and injured myself in the last three.
Ah well, dropping through a cloud makes it worthwhile. I’m still scared of heights, though.

Had my first Canopy Flying Training jump, which followed a five hour class. Ironically, 80 percent of the instruction covered arching and pulling, which both happen in free fall, and very little about parachute handling which is actually 3/4 of the ride, at least in terms of length. One more CFT jump and then it’s AFF–Aggressive Free Fall training. Perhaps the Free Fall class will focus on parachute handling, particularly emergencies and unplanned contingencies. Well, one can hope anyway.
Anyway, I learned three important things on this afternoon’s jump:

1) Never trust an altimeter blindly. The one I used was not zeroed out properly, and had me at 500 feet lower. Granted, this is much better than the reverse problem, thinking I was 500 feet higher than reality. Filed the glitch as what it was, a lesson. Trust what you bring to the zone. My frap cap worked perfectly, and resulted in much less disorientation, and noise.

2) My arch needs some work. I was pretty stable, all things considered, but could do better. That I can practice on the ground.

3) Work with gravity. At 10 feet I had a good flare going–both steering toggles all the way down near my waist, but I got anxious and unbent my knees. Whoops. Since we had substantial forward motion still, at around 3 feet my legs touched earth and my legs rolled backwards and my upper body kept going. At least the bending happened in the right direction. Fortunately the jump master rolled right, and took us down hard. Otherwise he might have flipped over my head. That would be…not good. In case I forget this lesson any time soon, my left knee, which absorbed the impact, will remind me for a few days. Next time, I let go of the landing.

All in all, I learned a lot. And I flew through a cloud at 5,500 feet. I might have seen my shadow–the rarest of sky diving treats–except my eyes were locked on the altimeter. Maybe next time.

What could this be?

Spent most of the weekend outside enjoying the unseasonably fine weather, including a four hour hike on Sunday.

And while amongst the sprawling pines, a great idea for a screenplay hit, about a guy in his late twenties devastated by a divorce, who turns everything he knew about dating upside down.

In between Oriana edits, I’m working on character sketches for that new project. And lusting for summer break.

Spring ended a week after it began, lasting four more days than last year. Maybe global warming skipped my block. Either that or the ozone ditched on its property tax bill again. Can’t say I blame it. Either way, warm weather cometh, putting me at odds the environment.

See, I like it cold–somewhere between nippy and lukewarm. If the thermostat never breached sixty-five, I’d be a happy boy. Beyond ninety degrees, my coherence drops off sharply. At a hundred, I pack it in, or risk being arrested for babbling in a public place again. That’s a slight exaggeration. Officially the charge was loitering. I strongly disagreed. What’s wrong with building an igloo with boxes of ice cream in the freezer section? The aisle badly wanted for a display. Nobody with teeth eats Neopolitan ice cream these days anyway.

On the plus side, NJ summers are far milder than the South, so I have an easier ride than some of my friends. Not sure how they survive.

I have another jump scheduled soon. Because I need a good scaring.

Meantime it’s edits. Oh, how I curse Oriana’s pen.

There are moments when I want to throw the monitor through a window rather than stare at it for another second. A bit violent, perhaps, but therapy has taught me to accept my feelings and nature rather than deny it. For the safety of my neighbors, I walked away and left the monitor on its stand. Something inside said take a vacation and recharge for a few days. While physically ready to implement Oriana’s edits, the brain–and more importantly the voice that directs me to the keyboard in the first place–said back off and wait. Anyway, I gave myself a few days for DVD’s, some reading, and a visit with Mom.

Speaking of one’s nature, as Mom and I strolled through her kitsch downtown in search of a restaurant, she mentioned something that differentiates me from many writers. It has nothing to do with my actual writing skills.

A lot of the stuff I write about, I also like really doing, or would at least consider attempting. Now if I was into shopping, that wouldn’t be very interesting; rather, shopping is something I avoid, and I’d sooner drive a mannequin through a display case than browse for tzotchkes willingly. But I like writing about adrenaline and action based backdrops. Hemingway ran with the bulls. Hunter Thompson rode with the Hell’s Angels. I jumped out of a plane, and am scheduled for more passes.
Though I never understood why either author passed so violently. Surely they had options.