Summer Resolutions III

Every year I make these resolutions, and every year I get just a teensy bit closer to actually fulfilling them. Whether that’s because I’m reaching for less or because I’m trying harder isn’t something I’m going to contemplate. Anyway. 2013 hasn’t been the greatest year so far, for a multitude of reasons that I won’t go into, but partially because I didn’t achieve as much as I’d hoped. This summer, my overarching goal is to take the things that got put off this year and finally do them.

So, I’ve got three categories this year (because I’m nothing if not an organizational nutjob): Things I want to do, things I want to learn how to do, and subjects I want to read/learn about.

Things I Want To Do:

• Edit the two short stories I have finished
• Submit both of them (one is currently on submission to the Writers of the Future contest, but I’ll hear back on that in June)
• Finish the first draft of my novel, tentatively titled Life in Tights.

I don’t have as many “doing” goals this year as I have in years previous. I decided to pick just a few things to focus on, instead of trying to split my attention between five or six different projects. I have a couple of other things going right now–short stories I’m writing, ideas that are going through the brain-percolation process–but these three things are the ones that I’m going to spend my summer on. Everything else can happen later.

Things I Want to Learn How to Do:

• Learn to machine sew, and make either a skirt or a dress. I am awesome at hand-sewing but have only used a machine once or twice, and I would like to learn how. Also, I have the hardest damned time finding a skirt or dress in stores, and as I’d like to build up my closet, sewing it seems like a good way to go.
• Learn to embroider. This is for a small plushie project I’ve been wanting to do, and its something I’ve just never tried before. Might be fun.

Again, fewer goals than the last couple of years. I also decided to focus on one skill I wanted to improve (sewing) and gave up on a couple of things that, while they’re still things I someday want to do, just don’t seem like I have the time to do: quilting and learning a foreign language.

Things I Want to Learn About:

• African history, specifically Algeria and Morocco 1860-1920. This is for a possible writing project that I’ve been tossing around lately. I love steampunk and biopunk, but am getting rather bored of seeing everything set in London. It’d be fun to do a couple of short stories set in a steampunk colonial Africa, but that definitely requires tons of research on my part.
• African mythology (same region, same reasons).
• The Pinkertons. For non-American peeps, the Pinkertons were basically private police hired to break up strikes and police the railroads in the 19th and 20th centuries. They’ve got a very long and interesting history, and are a dark chapter of US labor. There’s no particular application for this knowledge yet, I just find them an interesting thing to learn about.
• Bartending. I don’t actually like to drink (the crappy wine at First Communion ruined me, I think) but I find the job of a bartender fascinating for some reason. There’s already way too many bartenders in literature, but my next large project might just need a snappy sidekick.

I find that as I get older my tastes in writing (meaning my own) are going more and more towards places and people I don’t know much about. Maybe this is just the growing out of YA phase (which wouldn’t be very good, considering that my current WIP is YA) or maybe its simply me expanding beyond the readily available subjects. I was never taught about Asian or African history in public school, and today those are two of the things that I would love to know more about.

Happy Birthdays

It’s been an exciting time here at Alphabetically Inclined (meaning: budget confetti and a cupcake, as opposed to leftover jerky from the back of the fridge).

As WordPress so kindly informed me, this week is the two-year anniversary of the blog. April 27th, to be exact. I suppose that means its time to go back, read my earliest posts, and then start embarrassment-deleting the most poorly written and overly-exclamation-pointed ones, but we’ll skip that for now. I’ve had several blogs before this, some personal, some comics- or writing-related, but none of them lasted more than a couple of months. I don’t know why this one stuck (well, I have my guesses) but I’m not going to question it.

Not that I’ve exactly been a consistent blogging presence.

More importantly (or perhaps less, depending on my frustration level) my current WIP has also turned a year old. Currently, it is about 260 pages long and 77,000 words. I’m estimating I’ve got about another 50 pages to go. I tend to write with a lot of fluff and cut later; I think it makes it easier. This book will definitely need it, because 90-100,000 words is simply too long for a comedic YA sci-fi novel. I have an idea of how the editing for this book is going to go, actually, and I don’t think it will be too painful. My plan is to read the novel (duh) then make an outline for how it should ideally look, and rearrange/cut to fit. Then, line edits.

My goal is to eventually be able to get at least a first draft done in a year, but seeing as how my last novel took over 3 years, many drafts, and a VERY crappy flashback scheme, I think 18 months (my estimate) will definitely be an improvement. When I’m home this summer, I’m hoping to do some serious work on this and also editing work on the short stories I’ve got written. That’s never how it happens, of course, but a gal can hope. Editing is definitely my weak point. i don’t mind doing it, actually–I actively enjoy critiques–but its so hard to pick up a piece again after your brain has said, “Yep, that’s the end!”

Anyway, here’s to more years (though not on the novel. That shit’s getting done).

 

This Isn’t Up to Anyone But You

I have a pet peeve, and it seems to be happening a lot more lately (well, I have a lot of pet peeves. A whole menagerie, in fact. But this one is specifically annoying). What happens is fanfic–real writers, keep reading! This post is not about fanfic–will get halfway through a story, and then they will post a message like “I won’t post the next chapter until I get five reviews!” or “I’m new and can’t keep going without feedback!”

Here’s what I’d like to say to these people: god forbid you are writing for the reviews.

I hear this mostly from new writers, so I will try not to be a total fucking bitch (oopsies). Writing with the expectation of instant feedback, instant success, or really much guidance at all from sources other than those you go and search out yourself, is a hopeless endeavor. One writes because one wants to tell a story, must tell a story, and doesn’t have any way to get rid of that creative urge except by telling a story. If you stop writing 5,000 words in because no one on an internet forum is chiming in, then why are you writing in the first place? Are the reviews the goal? Or is it the story itself?

Getting no reviews, or even no reviews of substance, sucks. I get it. So does being a “real” writer and submitting into the ether only to receive one-line rejection emails in return. If you give up until someone give you a pat on the back, you’ll never get anywhere.

Write to write. Not for praise, or reviews, or success. Otherwise, you might as well be doing something else.

The World is Made of Distractions and Bright, Shiny Objects

I have a confession to make: I’ve been cheating.

These past few weeks haven’t been good for the write-every-day thing. There’s been three days where I didn’t remember I had to write until my head hit the pillow, and so the next day–instead of fessing up–I aimed for 1000 words and then divided the outcome in half. This is not good. It’s lovely, of course, to know that I am capable of writing a thousand words a day, but that’s not the game here. The game is consistency.

There’s been several reasons for the lack of output. My family can to visit, right smack in the middle of the week, which meant that very little of anything got done (not homework, school reading, fun reading, or writing). My roommate, who usually vanishes from Friday til Monday night to god-knows-where decided to stay in twice. This is a bigger issue than it seems, because most weekends I use as a time to stay up way late writing and doing school reading, but on these weekends I had another person who did not want to stay up until 2 am to the sound of frenetic typing.

NO ONE looks this good while sneezing. It simply isn’t possible.

And to top it off, my allergies kicked in to the point of my face feeling like someone put ball bearings in my sinuses and my nose dripping water worse than a faucet. It is not an attractive time for me, nor as you can imagine a very productive one. Between the antihistamine/decongestant/ibprofen cocktail messing with my brain and the fact that it’s hard to type when one is constantly on snot management, allergies make finding the motivation to sit down and write very difficult. Especially these monster allergies that may or may not have mated with the bird flu somewhere along the line and make me ears pop when I swallow like I’m on a plane or something. (Seriously–isn’t evolution supposed to not select for the snotball trait?).

Logically, I know it only takes me 20 minutes of no-pauses writing to do those 500 words. It’s sitting down to do that when I’ve got six other things on my mind that’s the hard part. I’ve got a Calculus test to study for, and interview that isn’t going to go well if I look like Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, a novel that’s supposed to be nearly read by now (hint: it’s not), a body that hasn’t done any exercise more vigorous than yoga or fastwalking for a month, and a presentation abstract that has yet to be thought through, let alone written. I’m pretty sure everyone else has a list at least this long too, and I’m also fairly certain that the mental to-do list is a big reason why so many people want to be writers but so few people actually write. Making writing a priority seems a little silly when there are so many things that The Real World needs you to accomplish as well, and when there’s an equal number of obstacles stopping you from accomplishing anything at all.

These past few days my goal has been to find ways to rewrite how I see my distractions as well as how I prioritize writing. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

• Having guests over (or having your roommate actually be in the room) is a chance to knuckle down on the whole “time management” thing. If I know roomie likes to go to bed by 11 pm, then I have to either get my writing done by then or tramp on down to the lounge. As moving all of my stuff is a pain in the arse, I prefer writing before bedtime. 
• Being sick may mean that getting out 500 words in 20 minutes isn’t feasible, but that’s okay. It means that I have to come up with some reasonable alternatives, like sitting in bed instead of at my desk, in comfy pajama pants, and writing 100 words between each episode of a stupid sitcom.
• Yoga may not be intense exercise, and it may not make me feel quite as kickass as pumping the elliptical until my eyeballs hurt, but it is still helping my brain, and it does make me feel good to do. A quick note: If you’re interested in yoga, I highly recommend the book Slim Calm Sexy
  

  This is a thing my body does now. Holy macaroni.

  Yoga. Please ignore the title, it is horrible. The book has a lot of clear routines, which I like, all of which focus on different areas of the body or health (flexibility, relaxation, back pain, jet lag, etc). I quite enjoy the Relaxation and Flexibility routines, which always leave me feeling pleasantly stretched without being worn-out. I haven’t had the chance to put the Orgasm routine to the test yet, though (if there was ever an appropriate use of LOL, this is it). I’d take the myriad supposed health benefits with a wee pinch of salt, but it has great pictures and steps for a beginner without a lot of the mumbo-jumbo spiritual trappings.

• The Real World may not find my writing important (yet!) but I do, and I also realize that my brain needs a creative break from other tasks. The fact is, a woman cannot subsist on Calculus alone. I would like a writing career–so what’s more important for my life overall? Practicing the thing that I want to do for the next sixty-odd years, or getting a little bit higher of a grade in a single math course? When I readjust my priorities this way, I don’t have to justify writing anymore or feel like I’m fitting it in at the expense of something else.

So happy Spring and everybody try to write at least once this week without going mad!

Trunking: Not a Weird Sex Act

Well, I suppose it could be a real sex act (I have learned never to venture onto Urban Dictionary–too many words have been forever ruined for me), but the type of trunking I mean is “Taking the product of my blood, sweat, tears and love, and giving up on it.”

This week, I put away two stories that, for various reasons, I don’t think will ever have an audience larger than one. Usually, this doesn’t bother me at all–I’ve put away a whole novel that I spent two years on (and that was a plot that had been stuck in my head for many years before that) without needing more than a chocolate bar for an sadness balm. And honestly, it was less of a sadness balm and more of an “I really want a chocolate bar today” moment.

The two stories that I put away this week had been with me a long time. The first one never quite got right. I loved the premise–still do–but the ending and the beginning didn’t match up. Two different stories, maybe. They were this close to fitting together, but I never found the right bridge between them. Too many ideas? Who knows. I tried rewriting it about three times and all three times I still ended up with a mess. Perhaps sometime in the future I’ll throw out this piece all together and try again with the same idea, but right now I’m done with it.

The second story was one I really believed in. One I was proud of, in fact. I submitted it to several different markets that trend towards the kookier end of fiction. It didn’t take. I wrote this piece awhile ago (like a two-years-ago while) and I do know that I have gotten better since then, thanks to regular writing and taking some workshops, among other things. Also, this piece is a second-person steampunk time travel story without any time travel actually being shown. So those are probably drawbacks, publishability-wise. This is another story that I may come back to for a complete rewrite, but at the moment I think it’s taken too much of my time and energy for me to be ready to throw myself back into it.

As much as I know why these stories have to be set aside, I can’t help feeling this creeping sadness. I’m about three-quarters through a novel, which will need editing when its done. I have two other stories in need of deep editing, and one more that I’m working on (without knowing the ending first, which is something I have never done before. Eek!), but I don’t have anything to show right now. It’s true that writing is a lonely profession, but it’s especially hard when you basically have to say, “I’m totally a writer, but there’s nothing done right now. There’s some old stuff, but it isn’t very good. So really, I don’t have anything at the moment.” I’ve done a lot of work, but none that I can hold up right now as a shining example of my craft. And writing is one of the few things that I actually feel I’m good at, so it’s strange not to be able to share that with anyone yet.

But hey–we persevere, right? After all, look how long it took Tolkien.

The Grand Declaration (Numero Dos)

No, there’s no particular reason for the Spanish in the title other than the fact that I took four #$@%-ing years of it and have to do something with my too-incomplete-to-actually-converse language skills.

I tried to begin my second year of writing daily on the first of February, but I only wrote nineteen days between then and May 18th. It was such a struggle to get through two days in a row. And then I figured out what was missing: PUBLIC SHAME!

In short story form, Mur Lafferty (author of the forthcoming Shambling Guide to New York City, but more importantly host of my favorite podcast, I Should Be Writing) recently had a show about hitting her 100th day of writing. She attributed her success to a system called The Magic Spreadsheet*, which is essentially a giant public spreadsheet where anyone can sign up and put down their words for the day. There’s a point systemand levels and a leaderboard in addition to just the wordcount, which is waaaay more complex than my lil’ system of writing it in a widget on the righthand sidebar, but the concept is the same.

Anyhoo, this is my official announcement of the beginning of Year Two (as evidenced by the new countdown and daily wordcount thingy over on the right there), so that I feel like I am accountable to someone other than myself. Because let’s face it, if it was just me I’d probably go eat some Pringles instead.

*If you are interested in joining The Magic Spreadsheet, this blogpost has a good overview of how the Spreadsheet works, plus relevant links.

Fanfiction Authors Are Not the Sanest of Folk

Notes from a night of reading fanfic:

-Yes, I get it, person whose summary included “(Character X)-WOMAN” You are writing a genswap fanfic, and this is obviously such a unique idea that you didn’t think that “woman” was quite obvious enough. All-caps was clearly necessary, along with three pointed notes in the summary.

Way too true.

-When is writing “LOL I didn’t want to write the beginning of this fic so it starts in the middle” ever a POSITIVE advertisement for one’s writing? Why would that EVER be information you would reveal in the one sentence you have to try to get people to read your piece? Why wouldn’t you just start in the middle and act like it’s some brilliant postmodernist tool?!

-Holy crap, I just used an interrabang and all-caps. I am going to the special hell, the one reserved for ax murderers and those who abuse the Queen’s English.

-Cardinal Rule #1: Badass male heroes do not cry. Especially not in the first three paragraphs. Especially not in a way that is described using flowery metaphors.

-Is there some sort of Original Character plague right now or is this just my fandom? Why does everyone feel the need to write up a new character (inevitably with some sort of oddly spelt name or two first names or some such shit) when this TV show already has a cast of probably 200 characters (including cameos). I assure you, many of those have been nothing more than a face flashing across the screen in a group shot, or a one-line delivery method. Don’t know anything about Minor Character X? Why don’t you read the goddamn source material?

-When you make Virtuous Character Y a rapist, Strong Character B a weak-willed bundle of nerves, and have Character X leave the series without warning, rhyme, or reason, you should just go write a novel. Or get counseling. But please stop wrecking these characters, and kindly get me a bottle of brain bleach so I can forget this awful definitely-not-K-rated morass you call a fanfic.

-I may be getting too old for fanfiction.

Yeah, Kristy was totally a lesbian, but so was Mary Anne, not Claudia.

-Yes, it is okay to kill off characters in fanfic. When you kill off half of them in the first page, it starts to lose its effect just a bit.

-I’m glad you like my fanfic, but posting a review two days after the last update saying, “Please update now or I will diiiiiie!” is not an effective way to get me to update. As you can clearly see, there has been a new chapter every Monday for the past five Mondays. Ergo, the next chapter will probably be written and updated on–wait for it–Monday. And no, posting the same review tomorrow will not speed the process either. I don’t get paid for this, you know.

-Loathe as I am to admit it, some characters just shouldn’t be slashed.

-Person of Interest fanfiction is actually really good. Huh. Maybe I should stop reading cartoon fandoms and move into shows with actual real people.

-Oh, wait, this one has Finch being a werewolf. And this one has him being a succubus. Yep, I knew this was too good to be true.

-And for the love of god, what is this fascination with characters’ hypothetical children? Is there some sort of contest to see who can come up with the most improbable scenario through which to bring children into a series? Cloning apparently wasn’t enough–now we’re onto magical children who must be Cared For or Will Destroy the World.

-Am I incapable of writing in anything but rhetorical questions now? Or lists?

-Must remember the motto: Live and let live, no matter how weird.

-Now I realize why I write fanfic: No one else is doing the stories I want to read. If only it weren’t so much work.

A Year of Writing Daily!

I did it.

I did it!

It feels something like this:

And also this:

But also, unfortunately, way too much of this (not a lot, but more that I would like):

I have more eloquent and non-computer-slowing-non-gif thoughts, but first let’s have some statistics.

• Total Words Written: 188,135 (this is an estimate, as I didn’t keep track for about 40 days between the end of my Month of Writing and the point where I decided to try a year).
• Projects: Four short stories, two large fanfics, one novella, 216 pages of a novel, and 10 university essays
• Lowest day: 250 words
• Highest day: 3026 words
• Latest night: 5 am (yeah, it technically counts as the next day, but I was racing to finish a short story)

But no matter how awesome actually accomplishing this (impossible, harebrained, crazy, so-not-conducive-to-laziness) goal was, its also terrifying to be done. Here’s 2013, smacking me in the face with the fact that there is now 52 more weeks to deal with, plus the next 68 or so years of my life expectancy. Yep, I’ve been having a lot of those “stare at the ceiling and think about your own mortality” type of nights. Which might explain why, when I gave myself a weekend off from writing, it somehow turned into a month of watching Person of Interest* reruns instead of working on The Novel. I haven’t typed up anything. Not a word. No short story or novel work, no fanfiction, (stupidly) no scholarship essays, not even any of the crappy poetry that my brain occasionally indulges in. Which brings us here, smack in the face of February, with nothing on my hard drive to show for it.

And yet, I wrote. I wasn’t intending to, honestly–when my weekend was up and I still didn’t feel any grand flashes of inspiration I basically said fuck it and decided to just not write in January. When classes started, though, I found myself doing it. Not a lot, but a page or so done longhand in a notebook.** I haven’t typed any of it up yet, but its all stuff for The Novel and it is, if I may say so myself, fairly good. Maybe that was the point of this extended fallow period–it was my insecure subconscious’s way of asking, “Am I really a writer? Or am I just pounding away at this out of a sense of inertia?” I can’t keep from writing, even when I’ve given myself permission to totally not do a single thing of value. Therefore? I think I can safely say that this is what I’m meant to do.

Now comes the harder part; actually starting those resolutions that I so optimistically assigned myself in the last (real) post. I’m going to take it one month at a time this year. I did 365 days of writing; now maybe its time to try only 28. So February is going to be 500 words a day, and no procrastinating until the wee hours of the morning. I’m going to start things on time (I know! A miracle, right?). And I’m–deep breath here–going to post the fanfic I wrote while I was on Vicodin.

Yep. That last part’s going to be a doozy.

* (puts on squee-y fangirl voice) OMG–have you guys seen that show? Its awesome, like the (good) Bourne movies, except every week. And I think I may totally be in love with Harold.

**Calculus is boring. So sue me.

Expectations

Tis the season of New Year’s resolutions! (Now that we’re passed the euphoria and charm of Christmas, and into the “Ohmygod, how many pounds of chocolate did I consume?” part of the holiday season, of course). I’ve already thought of a few things that I would like to work on this coming year, namely exercising more and attempting to clear up some of the old projects that I’ve had hanging about. More specifically, I’d like to try and work out four times a week, finish up a short story that is a few pages away from done, edit another, and finally write up some unfinished fanfic ideas that have been haunting me.

But this is also the time of year to look back on the last year and see how you did. 2012 for me was something of a mixed bag. I did something that was always a goal of mine and wrote every day (or I will–I didn’t start until Jan. 3rd so there’s a few weeks left to go*) for the year. It was crazy and some days I just wanted to strangle myself for deciding to do it, but my writing output and quality are way up and I’ve finally learned to touch type. Worth it, every bit.

And yet there’s so many things that I didn’t get done, even though I expected more of myself and know I could have done better than I did. Take this blog, for example. This is the first post in a month and a half, even though my Drafts folder shows that I started a post about once a week. Or my daily writing which, while successful, topped out at 400 words per day, although I really wanted to be higher than that by now. And I can write more than that a day! Heck, even NaNo, which I did respectably at, wasn’t really what I wanted. What I wanted to do was finish, but barring that I wanted to get 35,000 words. But I quit. At 25,000. Yes there were things–family, school, unexpected and improbable occurrences of havoc–that got in the way, but I could have made a better effort to carve out just a little more time to add to the wordcount each day. I was already doing 400 a day, why didn’t I just aim for 600? Or 800? So I couldn’t do 2,000 a day, but why not halve it?

I’ve been taking a hard look at my habits this year, these past few years really, and I’m not much liking it.

I had some expectations of myself this year. I wanted to start working out consistently (like always), take time at the BEGINNING of the day to write and edit as opposed to doing it at 2 am (like always), and stop procrastinating on work to the point of being nervous about finishing (like always). Instead, I think I worked out maybe six times over a period of five months, never got work done before sunset, and put off an essay to the point where I had to write 800 words at 11 pm. The essay was due at midnight. I also have a short story sitting her on my desktop, the critiques of which I got back over a month ago. I have not yet touched it, even though I wanted to take a day while I was on break and put a good couple hours’ worth of work in.

I know that I sometimes have these expectations of myself that are impossible to achieve (deep down, I am aware I will never be a 5k-in-a-day writer, no matter how many times I tell myself, “I’ll write all Saturday!”). Like working out every day–not going to happen. No matter if its physically possible, I just don’t possess that motivation. But instead of settling for a more achievable goal, I sink into this pit of Zero Accomplishments. I get done the bare minimum of my daily wordcount, and don’t increase it even when I very well could be doing 500 a day, at the least. I write papers at the very last minute and turn them in feeling like I could have done way better. Don’t get me wrong–I usually try to start them a few weeks in advance. Somehow it doesn’t happen…and then its the night before its due.

There’s a middle ground here, between shooting for something impossible and doing only the utter minimum. I just have to get out of this mentality of giving up if I can’t hit my too-high goal. And that is my overarching resolution this year. Just to find reasonable yet high goals and work at them, and not to give up if I stumble.

****************

New Year’s Resolutions:

• Work out four times a week.
• Read some of the classics I’ve missed (I’ve never read Tolkien, nor Asimov, nor Butler–and I’m a sci-fi writer. This must be remedied).
• Keep writing (I haven’t yet decided if I will keep doing it daily after I finish out the year. This method has its advantages, but its also pretty punishing at times). Don’t go more than a week without working in The Novel.
• Begin papers at least 1.5 weeks before they’re due, and do a little each day. Begin research 2.5 weeks before papers are due, at the least. Do readings before class, and don’t let them pile up.
• Start keeping a planner again (I used to be so good at this, and then I got lazy. And then I started forgetting things).
• Blog 2x/week, even if its just to post an interesting link. Finish the orphaned drafts (You would be amazed how many I’ve got here).

 

So here’s to New Year’s, and new goals. And, of course, to finishing them.

 

*Yes, I really did start this draft when January 3rd was “a few weeks” away, as opposed to “tomorrow.” See what I mean?

Thanksgiving is a Crap Holiday and NaNo is Dead

I don’t understand Thanksgiving. I don’t hate Thanksgiving, but it is the epitome of a mediocre holiday. It doesn’t have the joy and tradition of Christmas, nor the Easter funsies like egg hunts, or even the sparkle of New Year’s. Its basically a really big meal and an excuse to feel church-y by saying Grace once a year. You spend all day chopping and slicing and stewing, and eventually end up with way too much turkey that stays in the freezer until the next one rolls around.

And you know what, it killed my NaNo.

I’d been doing good. Not great, but good. I was running around 2,000 words a day, about to catch up with the goal. But then I got on a bus home, meaning to write of course, but instead I slept the whole way. Then I got home, and between family and cooking and my mother’s pathological need to dust everything all the time, I’ve only been getting done my minimum 400 words a day. According to the NaNo counter (which is evil and hates me) I have to do over 3,000 a day to just catch up.

Seeing as how I don’t go back until Sunday (and assuming quite rationally that I won’t be able to get done more than my 400 while I’m living in the same house as my family) that three thousand will have multiplied. And while, feasibly, I could get four thousand done, but I know my own personality well enough to know that I won’t be able to get that much done.

So NaNo is dead. I got further than I ever have, though, which is good enough for now. I’m still aiming to get another ten thousand in, so that I’ll have 35,000 by the end of NaNo. And I will have to be good with that.

 

Here’s to failing honorably!