I mentioned a few weeks ago that I’d made two changes to my morning routine: I had quit wearing my earbuds (and listening to podcasts) during my first two walks in the morning, and had started sitting down to write as soon as I got home from the second walk.
I am pleased to report that these changes are working great. I’ve done at least some fiction writing every single day for over three weeks now. Most of it was on a long-form project that I’m pressing ahead with, but I briefly paused to work on a short story (a flash piece?), that made use of one idea from my long-form project that I really liked, but that wasn’t working in the story.
“People with substantial cryptocurrency holdings face grave personal danger, and the physical attacks on their person grow bolder, more violent, and more sadistic by the day.”
Apropos nothing in particular, I just wanted to mention that I own no cryptocurrency assets at all, and (except for a few bitcoin cents that I briefly owned and then lost in 2011 in the hack of mybitcoin.com) I never have.
And, just for the record, I’ll also mention that I don’t think any cryptocurrency asset will ever be a thing of durable value. (This doesn’t mean that blockchains aren’t a useful technology. Just that they make crappy assets.)
However wonderful it is to find a great post, it’s much better to find a great writer. Back in the day when more people used RSS feed readers, it was perfectly ordinary to find a great post, and then click on the writer so you could add their feed to your feed reader.
I’d like to see the return of those days. Use an RSS feed reader again, and when you find a great post, you too can check out what else the writer writes, and if you like their other stuff too, go ahead and follow them.
My brother and I think alike about many things, and differently about many other things. We also sometimes disagree about what it is that we disagree about, which is kind of funny all by itself.
Although we agree about many things, we sometimes actually come at things from quite different perspectives.
In my brother’s thinking, I “never really wanted to work and pursued a career with the goal of retiring early,” which is both true and false. I hated having a job of the sort where I needed to show up every day, and do stuff that I didn’t find interesting. But I never objected to working. I just wanted the word used correctly. I was delighted to “work” in the sense of producing great works of literature (or art, or philanthropy).
It was never working I objected to. I simply didn’t like “working for the man.”
In retirement I don’t have to do that, and am able to devote myself to work (such as my fiction writing), to the necessary tasks of daily living (such as walking my dog), and to doing things I enjoy for their own sake (such as exercise, and reading).
And although the specifics may be quite different, in this area I think my brother and I are very much in agreement.
I have no shortage of interesting projects I intend to work on in retirement.
A while back someone among our local group shared a link to a set of books they’d found on the internet, with interpretations and drills for Meyer’s Art of Fencing. Word among the local group was that the people behind the books publish stuff “based on interpretations that are… subject to debate,” and suggest taking all of it with a grain of salt.
What caught my eye, though, was not the interpretations, but rather the suggested drills.
They reminded me of the sort of drills you find in a certain class of music texts, where they’re going to go on to the advanced stuff, but they want to make sure you’ve got the basics down, so they’ll have exercises like, “Play every major and minor scale in every key for every octave.” Which, you know, if you can’t do it pretty smoothly, you’re going to have trouble doing the advanced stuff, so you might as well know that right from the start.
And that’s what these drills are like. One is to stand in each guard and cut, thrust, or shift to every other guard. Then take a few quick notes. Did moving from that guard to this or that other guard seem easy and comfortable? Did it seem like it would be useful, or just leave you open for your opponent to take some advantage?
The next drill was to stand in each guard, and then execute each of Meyer’s cuts and thrusts. Again, take some notes. What seemed like it worked?
Drills like that don’t seem like they would depend on the author’s hot takes on anything about Meyer. In fact, they seem great on every level. I can get an idea of what might or might not work. I can get some practice doing each of the cuts and thrusts. I can spend some time standing in each of the guards.
Those are all things I can benefit from.
So I started doing some drills along these lines today, starting with Right Ox and Dempfhau.
Me in Right OxA Meyer rapier fencer in Right Ox
I want to get a little lower in my fencing stance, and maybe hold my sword a little more forward, but it doesn’t seem as bad as I imagined.
Although Meyer doesn’t say so anywhere I’ve found, Right Ox is the guard you’d find yourself in at the end of drawing your rapier from a sheath. (Thibault says this, I think.) If your opponent drew before you, the very next thing you might need to do is fend off an attack, which suggests to me that Dempfhau might be very useful. So that’s one thing I drilled: Dempfhau from Right Ox followed by a thrust into Longpoint, followed by falling back down on the sword that I’d dempfhaued, and then moving to Iron Gate or back into Right Ox.
Besides that, I did some moving from Right Ox to several other guards (High Guard, Left Ox, Low Guard (on the right and on the left), Iron Gate, Plow, and Longpoint). I need to look more at the low guards and at plow, but the point of the drill is to start putting in the time, not to already be doing everything perfectly.
I’ve gotten back to writing regularly, for the first time in too long. I’ve made two changes to my daily routine to make this happen.
The first is that I’m avoiding listening to podcasts during my first two dog walks. This lets me use that time walking outdoors to get into the headspace of whatever story I’m working on.
The second is that I’m going ahead and sitting down to write, right after the second dog walk. I’ve known for a very long time that I have to get started writing early, if I’m going to be successful. After second walk is perhaps not idea—earlier might be better—but it’s been working these past few days.
I had been using that time to get started on my morning exercises. But that leads into doing a workout, and by the time I’m done with that the dog is ready for her third walk, and then it’s time for lunch. And that is why I hadn’t been getting any writing done.
Slotting in a session of writing before I exercise is cutting into my exercise time, but maybe that’s okay. Delaying my workout for an hour (or, hopefully soon, an hour and a half) is certainly okay occasionally, and so far I’ve been getting in a reasonable amount of exercise anyway.
All over Europe, farmers are parking their tractors on bridges, in front of fuel depots, and across from government offices, to protest government policies that are making the economics of being a farmer completely untenable.
It’s not happening so much in the U.S. At least not yet. I guess, as long as people are willing to pretend it’s not welfare, farmers are willing to take government money—even as their livelihoods are being destroyed.
But…
But emergency checks are not farm policy. And without a permanent Farm Bill, the next drought, the next bad harvest, the next crisis, won’t have a safety net waiting — just another extension, and another prayer.
