|
|
|
November 22nd, 2009
10:52 am - For Scrivener Users: Printing Out Index Cards
If you've already figured this out, sue me for being an idiot.
If you want print out your title/synopses cards so you can manipulate them like real index cards:
1. Compile draft.
2. Under Document Elements, choose all titles and synopses radio buttons (or just for your files, or whatever). MAKE SURE TEXT IS NOT CHECKED.
3. Under Text Options (tab on top of page), just doublecheck to see that the 'Separate non-folder sections with:' is a hash mark, or some other arcane symbol you're not have likely to used in your document.
4. Export as whatever doc file you use.
5. IN WORD: start a new doc.
6. Use the Mail Merge Manager to create a New Document type; I chose labels, Avery 5315 notecards for basic 3 by 5s.
7. For Select Recipients List, Open Data Source and choose the file you just exported from Scrivener.
THIS IS THE CLEVER BIT
8. In Header Record Delimiters choose as your Record Delimiter THE HASH MARK.
(for those of you unfamiliar with spreadsheets, etc, what you are doing is effectively turning each individual file doc in Scrivener into a one-field record; the hash mark indicates the end of each record and the start of a new one)
9. Continue the rest of the mail merge. Where it says Edit Labels, choose whatever drops down in the Insert Merge Field; it will be ugly garbage sort of from your first Scrivener doc. If you want, back in Scrivener you can make a false first doc/card with the title TITLE and a synopsis that says SYNOPSIS just for personal reference and to make this a little easier.
10. You can preview results, or just complete the merge.
Eureka. Note cards you can print out with your outline on them.
NOTE: This is basic and ugly. If you like the idea you may want to tweak the way you organize and format your docs, doc groups and folders in Scrivener.
(like making the TITLE of the card a separate field, etc)
Good luck!
|
November 16th, 2009
01:59 pm - Signs I May Be Drinking Too Much (Coffee)
"Scott! We *have* to go to the store today! I am completely out of coffee!"
"What's that can, right there?"
"This? It's my first emergency coffee. I had to break into it because, as I said, I am completely out of coffee."
"Well, then we don't have to...wait. What do you mean 'first' emergency coffee?"
"I don't understand the question."
"What's that coffee in the freezer?"
"That's *second* emergency coffee. Just in case."
"Just in case what? Terrorists find your cache of first emergency coffee?"
"Kind of. Definitely an end-of-the-world scenario, or if first emergency runs out. It's total crap--not even shade grown."
"Honey. Lizzy. We have to have a chat. You and me, and maybe some of your closest friends and family will be there..."
|
November 3rd, 2009
10:51 pm - Warning: Spoilers?
Wait, you mean they came to earth promising peace but turn out to be bad and they're reptiles underneath human facades and they want to recruit our children but some are good and are even in love with humans and will help build resistance cells to fight off the visitors?
Shoot, back in the 80s it took like TEN HOURS to figure all that out, not 45 minutes.
We must have been so tarded.
|
November 2nd, 2009
10:06 am - Sigh...another Halloween over...
But what fun we had! Trick or treating in DUMBO meant a lot of confused and delighted international tourists (for some reason they just love Fulton Ferry).
And, ok, for the first time in years, my costume kind of ruled... It's a little hard to tell in this picture, but Tiny Baby is a spider, and I am her web.
|
October 30th, 2009
12:40 pm - Weirdest Text I've Ever Sent from a Wedding
"I'm all alone! I'm sitting by myself :( I don't know *anyone* here!
Um, except for that person who played Tara on Buffy. She's, like, three rows up. I think she was also on the same train as me. But that doesn't count, does it?"
|
October 26th, 2009
10:13 am - The Power of Stink Compels Thee
October brings things I hate and things I love.
Under the 'hate' category comes vampires.
Oh sure, I used to love them. In fact, I loved them way before it was cool to love them. I loved them at a time so far back there wasn't any vampire-friendly genre stuff out there.
Then...you've probably heard this one before... Best friend totally fell in love with a vamp and wound up getting turned, yadda yadda, you know, same old story. Maybe I'll write it someday. Anyway, it may be racist, but now I just can't stand their undead hides.
Fortunately, Nature in her bountiful generosity has given us a way to combat them at the same time they start coming out of their coffins and harassing us: GARLIC.
Italian sweet, Korean rocambole, New York White, Mohawk Red--you name it, I love it. If it's October, that means bags of fresh garlic all over the house, flavoring everything from soup to nuts.
And you ain't gonna see me without this until November 2nd.
It's Roumanian Red, by the way. For extra efficacy.
|
October 21st, 2009
09:13 am - Medical Scare of the Week
My doctor's ringtone is the theme from House.
"Does that mean it's someone he aspires to be," my sister asked thoughtfully, "or who he thinks he is?"
Either way...
|
October 15th, 2009
07:56 am - A Bulwer-Lytton Winner
Or great opening line to my next novel.
Unfortunately, it is simply what happened last night:
"Mr. Braswell, upon calling his oldest daughter the night before he and Mrs. Braswell went on holiday to Hawaii for a fortnight, grew incensed when Elizabeth would not discuss her brother's armpits in a serious fashion."
|
October 5th, 2009
11:36 am - My Baby Tried to Eat the Cat
I realize this falls under 'the dog ate my homework' category of why it's hard to sit down and write these days.
I swear to you this is true.
The baby was quiet; I put her on the couch where she sat up, playing with her toes. The cat leapt up to snuggle next to her.
"That's nice," I said, turning to the keyboard.
And that's when tiny baby leapt.
Arms and fingers out, she threw herself at the cat, burying her mouth in the cat's side and sinking her fingers into its flesh.
"No, bad baby!" I yelled.
The cat yowled.
Tiny baby gripped more tightly the more I tried to pull her off. She snapped her jaw open and shut, trying to regain her bite.
After a few moments it was all over. I had to pick cat fur off of baby's hands and out of her mouth. The cat, who is so poorly neglected these days, just shuddered and moved to the other end of the couch.
"Maybe it's time for solid food," my mom has been suggesting. Apparently mother's milk isn't enough.
|
September 23rd, 2009
09:02 am - Things I Hate This Week
People who don't stock headache pills in their medicine cabinets.
I'm not talking about Rx-style pilfering someone's oxycodone when you claim to have to use the loo. I'm talking about having a killer headache and when you ask if someone has something you can take, they say:
"Oh...no...I don't think so...I don't really get headaches..."
Really? Really?
You never get backaches or leg aches or muscle aches or cramps or tension headaches or weather-related sinus problems? And you live in New York? No aspirin? No advil? No alleve? No excedrin? Not even any tylenol?
The only thing I hate more is people who answer this way but have all sorts of crazy sleeping pills and anti-anxiety pills and borderline recreational prescription drugs in their cabinets.
But no advil.
|
September 8th, 2009
11:02 am - Happy Fall!
Ok, autumnal equinoxes aside, everyone knows that fall *really* begins the Tuesday after Labor Day. So put away your white shoes, dust off your pie making skills, and prepare to enter the pre Christmas shopping season.
I thought I would begin with a heartwarming story of a family in Brooklyn...
We were walking down the sidewalk, Alex, I and the Tiny Baby (strapped on in the front carrier), enjoying a fine fall morning, when an incredibly rude construction worker-with-attitude pushed his way through us. The corner of his bag obviously and nastily clocked Alex on the head, almost knocking him off his scooter.
Stunned, Alex was silent for a moment, rubbing his head.
Then my sweet little three-year-old made a face at the man's retreating back side, muttering:
"Douchebag."
|
August 17th, 2009
09:38 am - Don't Cross a Writer
Dear Matthew W. Daus, Chair of the Taxi and Limousine Commission, NYC
The other day I was taking my son home from the doctor, 99 University place in Manhattan to Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I hailed a cab--3M23b--and told him where I wanted to go. He made no objection, as sometimes cabdrivers illegally do, if asked to go to Brooklyn. Then he got on his radio and began complaining. And while I didn't understand everything he said, 'University Place' and 'Greenpoint Brooklyn' kept coming up, and he sounded irritated.
Suddenly, he pulled the car over and told us we had to get out, the engine was overheating.
Admittedly, most citydwellers may not be quite proficient in car maintenance or repair, but I--literally--wrote the book on it. Look it up. The Pep Boys Auto Guide to Car Care and Maintenance by E. J. Braswell.
The engine's temperature indicator was at a healthy 'C.' And when the driver popped the hood there was no steam or other noises usually associated with instant car overheating.
(As a side note, you may want to inform your drivers that when faking it, they shouldn't play with the oil dipstick if pretending to look for overheating issues.)
While he very politely hailed us another cab, he also dropped the hood, got in the car and took off as soon as we were safely on our way.
And while I, my sick toddler, my infant, a stroller and assorted bags all eventually made it home safely, the whole incident was exhausting and *completely unacceptable.*
Bite Me,*
Elizabeth J. Braswell
*Ok, I didn't actually include that last bit. But I *really* wanted to.
|
August 11th, 2009
12:10 pm - Writing Again
Yep, I am. Writing again.
It's hard, with a little tiny thing staring up at me. She gets more and more adamant, demanding my attention. I give in, and eventually she goes to sleep. And then I write again.
I thought it would be hard to go back to writing. I tend to write at my most disciplined when I have a contract, and my most inefficient and unproductive when I don't. I'm a stickler for deadlines and professionalism (if I don't ever win a Newbery, maybe at least I'll get the Kevin J. Anderson Lifetime Achievement Award).
The midgrade fantasy series my agent has been shopping around is still out there. I just finished a proposal for a graphic novel. And I'm working on a new WIP, when I really should be working on Super, and if Barry reads this he may kill me, but he's on vacation, so it's unlikely, and whatevs, baby.
[uh, seriously, though, Barry, I'll get back to Super in September. It needs more thought time and this other thing is burning up in me]
So a few weeks ago I said "Here goes. I'm going to sit down and try to write five pages today."
And I did.
Just like that.
('just like that,' by the way, involves multiple cups of coffee, a breastfeeding or two, an alt tab over to Etsy or Boingboing, beginning my FreshDirect order for the week, etc)
('just like that,' part ii: I wasn't sitting down in front of a blank screen starting from scratch. I don't do that, it doesn't work. There's a book that's been sitting in my head since Halloween, and I already had several clear scenes and moments worked out from start to finish. Books *do* write themselves, they just don't type themselves)
I wasn't able to write much during the second half of my pregnancy it because I was sick a lot and my head hurt. After seven months of not being able to focus or write (two were exclusive to Tiny Baby care), it just clicked again. It's almost as if I'm *more* disciplined than before my pregnancy. Whether it's a greater sense of my own mortality or intellectual growth, I have no idea.
Anyway, for any of you out there terrified of the whole having kids/career thing, take heart. It's possible.
It might even be better, eventually.
|
August 3rd, 2009
09:39 am - Rickrolled in My Dreams
Or, Morpheus has a sick sense of humor.
*I AM TOTALLY NOT MAKING THIS UP.*
Saturday night I was asleep, dreaming about the latest Star Trek movie (I think my brain was trying to make it not suck). I was on the bridge, trying to get a close-up look of the young hottie Spock, when suddenly
NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN...
I swear! First on the viewscreen, and then it took over the whole dream! Big hair and all!
Isn't that WEIRD?*
*Do I know that is the geekiest story you've ever heard and I am completely pathetic?
Yes. Yes I do.
|
July 29th, 2009
09:10 am - My 20th High School Reunion
There are a lot of pithy, depthy things I could say here. About arch nemeses turning into delightful people (about not exactly remembering why you didn't like someone), about cliques still clicking, about how everyone forgets the cruelty and remembers your parents, about tastes in ice cream changing, about putting yourself up against ancient dreams of what you would do.
But in the end, the most important thing is that after *20 years* my old camp still has the giant swing hanging off a tree over a hill, unremoved in these modern days of ubersafety and lawsuits.
They have, however, removed the poison ivy patch underneath. Which is a good change.
|
July 20th, 2009
10:26 am - The High Line
Finally made it over to the new park in the Meatpacking district!
Thanks in a large part to David Bowie--whose latest incarnation is 'native New Yorker'--Friends of the High Line took an old elevated train track that had been abandoned for years and turned it into a park. I've wanted to get up on those train tracks for years; plants and trees seeded themselves and grew in the dirt, so you'd walk by and see all this life above the rusty rails. Very post apocalyptic. And now it's open to the public!
And speaking of post apocalyptic, it's designed exactly the way I thought the future would be (see also the new Getty Center). Very sleek and modern, with interesting plantings and unusual use of materials.
And if you look carefully, way in the distance in this one, you can see the Statue of Liberty. I love seeing things from new angles! Oh, and there's Alex.
And this, for no damn good reason, is Boba Fett. Playing the accordion at the Ganesvoort entrance to the High Line. You can't tell it in the picture, but his white t shirt is nicely pressed.
"Boba Fett!" I shouted.
"Coo," said Ivy.
"What's a Boba Fett?" asked Alex.
"No, you're supposed to say... Oh, never mind, kids," I sighed. You'll understand when you're older."
|
July 13th, 2009
09:23 am - Monday Humor
I was going to write something pithy and depthy about being a mom and a writer, but screw it, read this instead.
I laughed so hard I snorted coffee out my nose. And it was hot.
http://beatonna.livejournal.com/109102.html
|
July 8th, 2009
09:43 pm - July 10th is the First Annual “Freelancers Put On Your Pants” Day
Really, the title says it all. And as with all rules, my own rule, "try to get a bra on before noon," is really more of an indication of the state of things than a law people actually follow.
http://current.com/items/90358229_july-10th-is-the-first-annual-freelancers-put-on-your-pants-day.htm
(credit where it's due; my sister let me know about this. She is someone who strongly believes that I should wear pants more often)
|
July 2nd, 2009
03:48 pm - The Great God Pan
Sigh, another thing I should have read when I was younger.
Stephen King thought this was one of the greatest horror stories ever written? Really? Not just in historic context? My ex boyfriend was *deeply disturbed* by this quaint preLovecraft novella?
Can anyone today really read something to the effect of 'a horror too great for a man's mind to behold and remain sane' or 'things terrible beyond a man's imagination' without giggling a little?
As someone living post Holocaust, to paraphrase Han Solo, I can imagine quite a lot.
|
June 23rd, 2009
08:39 am - In The Future It Always Rains
Or, 'It can't rain all the time.' Or any one of a number of Blade Runner/Crow-esque homages. Throw in a nice Ray Bradbury/Venus reference, too.
Things are getting out of hand in New York City.
It's little things.
There are buckets everywhere. Seriously--I think at least a third of the stores/schools/public places I've been in have had quietly attended-to leaks. Mops standing in the corners of fancy boutiques.
And everybody talks about the weather. All the time.
New Yorkers don't use the weather, generally, as small talk. They will talk about fare hikes on the MTA, the Yankees, Fourth of July plans, the latest restaurant in the David Chang empire.
But lately everyone--and I mean EVERYone--I talk to, from close friends to the guy who picks up our drycleaning, is discussing weather. Will we see blue sky today? Will another weekend be ruined? Is it just rain this afternoon, or will there be a thunderstorm?
"Cloudy is the new nice," my husband quipped.
It's true. A day that it doesn't *actually* rain, just threatens to, is cause for celebration.
Sigh. Some summer.
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
lizbraswell's journal