Retreat of the Clone and book-colored glasses

Now that I've got Jasmine back (yay! stupid optical drive ...) I can declone Lark.  I'm not a big fan of keeping financial information on a laptop, so I won't reload that, and I don't plan on having 10,000 images or how ever many I have now on Lark either.  Lark will mainly be for writing, and Jasmine will mainly be for all other things biz like financial stuff, tracking subs and serving as my art-focus computer (plus serve as an occasional school confuter for the kids--this way when they need internet access for research I can still write.  They have their own confuters but they don't have internet access on them.) I can also manage my husband's biz on Jasmine.  He will remain a very busy boy.

Much as it was cute and fun to have a Jasmine mini-me, I'm ready to start with fresh data. Now the trick is to get everything that has changed since Lark became a clone transferred onto Jasmine.  A tech at the Power Mac Pac showed me how to temporarily lobotomize Lark (turn him into a hard drive!) so that I can sort through the files without interference from software and see exactly what's been modified and created since Lark's birth.  Then I can firewire that stuff over.

This is a very kewl trick and I'm excited to try it out.  I'll be glad when it's over, though.  I have a new short story I'm in the middle of and I'm going to take a shot at writing a dark SF flash.  Deadlines loom.  The novel WIP is whining for attention, too.  I'm normally a bit more casual about these sorts of things (except deadlines--I'll sweat to meet them) but I was inspired by Rich Dad, Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki to look at my writing in a whole new way.  (Read my review here.)  Hey, I will take just about any inspiration to light a fire under my backside when it comes to writing.  

I think my insanity is once again confirmed.  I can read a book on financial intelligence and immediately my brain feeds back with an idea with how to approach my books.  Rose-colored glasses makes the world look safer and kinder.  What color are the glasses that make the world filter into a writer's perspective?  I say they're actually clear, but they have these translucent arrows all over them that point at story ideas.  Each arrow is tinged a color based on genre.  The end result is a psychotic hummingbird's idea of a basket weave of arrows, making the glasses appear to have an pearly coating.

Maybe horror writers live in the near-black arrow riddled world of shadowed arrows where the very air generates a story idea of terror.  Fear them.  They live in the dark.  Their neighbors are the monster that lives under the bed, the guy who keeps sending me anxiety dreams and Stephen King's undead pet cat.  The zombie apocalypse lodge holds its meetings down the hall.