Thursday, 19 September 2002

Novelish thoughts persist. In fact, I've about decided to write a novel sooner, rather than later. To write one next, in fact.

I need to talk to my writing group about it. We're already suffering from a dearth of stories to critique. If I write a novel, I'll certainly be writing fewer short stories. On the other hand, I've not been writing short stories much just lately either. I feel a need for a change, and maybe a novel is the right change.

I don't really have a plan yet, except that I'll try to rough up some pieces and some notes over the weekend, and then write full-time next week, while I'm on vacation. I'll evaluate what I come up with before I do anything rash like predict how long the novel might end up being or how long it might take to write it.

I had intended to take all of next week as vacation time, but I had forgotten that I have a training class on Monday. So, instead of having nine days off in a row (including two weekends), I'll have an ordinary weekend, then one day of work on Monday, and then six days off. It's not as good, but it will do. At least the training class is a change from my ordinary work.

I came home for lunch today. Jackie fixed me gumbo. I'd asked her to, after we got the okra at the Farmer's Market on Saturday. make me gumbo.

One of my co-workers a couple jobs back was from Louisiana. His wife made great gumbo and would from time to time make it in vast quantities, enough for all us software engineers and sundry friends and relations to get some. I haven't had good gumbo since. This, though, was great gumbo.

I don't go home for lunch very often. It's about fifteen minutes each way, so the round trip takes a big chunk out of a lunch hour. It's possible, though, and very pleasant. Today Jackie decided that she wanted gumbo for lunch rather than dinner, so home I went.

Next week I'll be home for lunch every day (although I may decide to take Jackie out a time or two).