Reading, Writing…Guns

So, so, so, so…where to start? I think I’m going to stop saying it’s been an insane week and just leave it for granted that I’ve been busy unless I say otherwise.

Monday was Memorial Day. At home we didn’t do too much: hamburgers for supper and then a movie. *clears throat* Ok, we watched HOME again. Seriously, that movie is so cute.

Some of us did go out that day though. Since a Memorial Day parade goes past our church, the church does an outreach: inflatables, free food, and sharing the Gospel. Myself and four of my siblings volunteered to help. The neatest part was the drive there, with the mist hovering over fields and rising from still pools in the rising dawn… I love mist. It appears in some form or another in almost all my stories.

Or all my stories. Probably all of them. But I digress.

My sister and I ran a bouncy house during the outreach. Once we got organized, I ended up going inside the bouncy house and clearing out the kids ever minute and a half (they wouldn’t all listen otherwise and besides, even if I have practice ordering younger brothers about, I don’t want to yell at kids I don’t know. *smirks*) But the best part of the day was after the outreach and lunch was over and the inflatables were blown back up for all of us mature adults.

I thoroughly enjoyed both the obstacle course and the large slide, even though I burned my elbow on the latter. But, as much as I enjoyed playing, watching the young men in their jumping competitions was just as exciting. You can see a collage of the videos my sister took here.

Then, Wednesday, I killed a character. As my brother grinningly (yep, I don’t care about that red line, auto-correct) informed me when I told him earlier in the week of my intentions, my character ‘had a deadline. A literal deadline.’ I’m still not sure if I ought to laugh or slap him. A bit late for the slapping though. I suppose.

But, though I’d been agonizing over if I’d be able to write the emotions of the death scene well, I ended up being very pleased with the results. Though the death was sad, I was (partly) over my own emotion on the subject. Instead I just sat, my fist pressed to my lips, staring at the blank screen and wondering how on earth I could put to words what I was picturing in my mind. But I did, eventually. And I’m very happy with those three chapters.

And, as my reward, Wednesday evening I had fun with…this:

Before I explain, have I ever told you all about the Greek class I’m part of? Welllll…

*grins sheepishly*

It’s not really a class. More of a Greek club, aka, meeting place for six people who talk on about anything but Greek. The two men sit to my left and talk of politics and guns. The three women are on my left and, with one who used to be a nurse and the other who works in an ambulance…well, you can guess where that conversation goes. Two conversations are normally going on one time, I might add, so I sit in the middle, not talking too much since everyone else has so much to say, and switch my focus from one group to the other as the mood takes me. Oh, and I do sometimes translate a Greek sentence or two while listening and gathering material for stories. Anyway…yes. Greek class, um, club.

But four of the six of us like guns, so we have a shooting evening about once a year. This was my first time joining it, but it was great fun. Especially shooting the piece pictured above. An AR-15, with a 30 round magazine (I got to shoot two magazines). And then the senses; the difference between the sharp crack of the gun while wearing those small foamy earplugs and the muted roar with a double set of earplugs. The sharp smell of gun smoke. The thud of the recoil against your shoulder or in your hand. The smooth pull of the trigger. The flash of fire at the end of the barrel as night drew on. We wrapped up the evening with picking up dozens of casings and then shooting some milk jugs full of water. Now that…that was fun.

*rubs hands together*

*grins*

Oh, and I can’t forget the books.

I went though my shelf and four boxes of books; around 368 books, give or take a handful. (Yes, I counted.) I do this every few months to refresh my memory of what I have. What is put away. Get new books out on my shelf.

Anyhow, I’ve done this before. But this time…this time, I cataloged all of them. Half my books on my shelf. The others in boxes with their titles written down in a document, along with what box they are in. It took me several hours, but I’m very pleased with the results. And my books. Not, you understand, that my 360+ books in any way impedes my desire to purchase more book on my list of books to-buy, which is almost as long as my books to-read.

And my to-read list isn’t getting any shorter even though I’m reading about six books at one time. Or is it seven?

Anyhow, this week has been a jumble. Reading. Writing. Trying to plan a movie . Reading. Killing a character and tormenting his best friend. *evil laugh* *sniffs* *chuckles gleefully again* Not wanting to make a movie. Knitting hats. Books. Reading. Wondering if I can get away with making the movie next year. Guns. More writing. Butchering chickens. And did I mention trying to read? The operative word there is try, in that I have been trying to read a lot more than I’ve been finding time to read…partly because I’ve a stack of books a mile high and partly because they look so interesting.

Besides, it’s research, right? Nonfiction gives me idea. Fiction gives me more ideas as well as examples of good writing (or what not to do in writing, as the case may be).

What about you, my fellow pilgrims? How many books do you own? How many do you like to read at a time? What are you reading? And, most importantly, are you finding time to read?

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6 Comments

  1. I’m… reading nothing. I know. That’s terrible. I have literally (as in ‘literally’ literally) tons of books at my disposal, but I’ve read most of them, and the ones I haven’t read yet are school projects that take a lot of concentration, which is something I’m currently short on.
    I usually try to only read one book at a time. ๐Ÿ˜› (Operative word being try). ๐Ÿ˜‰
    And no, I am most certainly not finding time to read, thank you very much for asking. It went wherever my concentration did.

    • You have my sympathy. ๐Ÿ˜‰ I think I’m actually going to have the afternoon free to read today! *cheers* which is a good thing since I’m reading Defy and have to know how the story ends.

  2. noliealcarturiel

    If you like mist so much, why is it so often a bad thing, or bringer of bad things, or symbol of bad things, or something the man character’s afraid of (even if he doesn’t like to admit it), in your stories?

    I had to laugh about your character having a literal deadline. Brothers can be mean.

    • Not sure. ๐Ÿ™‚ Because it works, I suppose. Though I do want to make a ‘good’ mist sometime too.

      • noliealcarturiel

        That was supposed to be *main* character in my comment, not man character. Though now I think about it, the only ones afraid of the mist, that I can recall, are men.

        • Well, there’s really only Ethaniel who didn’t like mist. And then I guess there’s the terror (plus mist) in King’s Armor, and the suffocating mist in Song of the Sword…

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