Author: Sharon

Write the day away

The Long Back Yard

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Writing is all about the clothes

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Tali decided to go full paws-on

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So, that was a day. What day? Wednesday!

I slept “late” because I was exhausted from all my carrying-ons yesterday, and beyond that, I can’t tell you where the day went. Well. I can actually tell you where the day went, but that would contain spoilers.

In broad terms, it says here that I wrote +/-3800 words today, a figure I take leave to doubt. I’m thinking I probably missed a word count somewhere along the line. I sure of +/-2000, so let’s leave it there. The WIP entire now stands at 128,270ish words, and we are at that fun part in the proceedings where the more words you write toward the resolution, the further away the end gets.

Also, I made the mistake of answering the telephone — I have got to get with Fidium and find out wtF they’ve done to my landline, someday when I have three hours to sit on hold, which isn’t happening this week.

Anyhoot, I answered the phone and as a result of this hasty action, I have an appointment at Neurosurgery and Spine (no, not a law firm) on Friday at 2pm. It would appear that Neurosurgery and Spine is in Scarborough. Maybe I’ll go down early and hit up OOB. Oh, wait. I think I know where this place is. Sort of. Which is why the gods in their infinite wisdom gave us GPS.

So! I have tomorrow to write all day, then Friday I’m traveling, then Saturday and Sunday to write.

It’s an odd life, but mine own.

How’s everybody doing?

Today’s blog post title brought to you, sideways, by Van Halen, “Dance the Night Away“

Busy Tuesday

The Long Back Yard

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Well. I solved some, but not all of my problems. Charlie’s was able to take care of the tire pressure for me, so I don’t have to get any more scoldy emails from my car. Is anyone else’s car like this? It only writes when it wants something — air in the tires; washer fluid. It never writes to see if I want something, or just to say hey. Honestly, it’s like we don’t have a relationship at all.

Lowe’s was a labyrinth, Target was much better than the last time I was in, and I could actually shop.

I found The. Perfect. barstool for My Studio at Marden’s, but Marden’s, along with its other peculiarities, doesn’t deliver. Or doesn’t always deliver, and while the stool in question would fit in the back of the Subaru, my chances of getting it downstairs with both it and me in one piece were — let’s just say the smart money would back gravity. Heavily.

I found a less perfect, and only slightly more expensive barstool at Fortin’s, and they? Will send it across the river tomorrow with a nice young person who will take it down the stairs for me, so — win.

I did not arrive at a satisfactory solution for sunblocking the sliders, though I may have an It’ll Do.

I came nowhere near achieving a premade step so I can walk out of Steve’s office and onto the deck without breaking an ankle.

Two pleasant things happened. At Target, I was prompted to Use Google Wallet, and so I did — only it didn’t work. My cashier was in my corner though, and between us, with a bit of last minute advice from a pro on the other register, I got it to work, and he cheered.

Also, when I stopped to drop a package off at a friend’s house, a big black cat came down the middle of the road toward me, clearly on A Mission. I said, “Is that Spazzio?” and his tail went up just as far as it could.  He escorted me to the porch, where I left the package. He lobbied hard for me to let him in, but — no key, kitty.

So, back home now, and? I should find something to eat, I guess.

How’s everybody doing today?
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Fortin’s wins today’s hero badge.  They brought my bar stool to me an hour after I got home, carried it into the house, down the stairs and into the studio.  We are now set up and ready to do some glasswork.

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Went to needlework, but — I grabbed the wrong bag off the hook, so I had the Invisible Project to work on. Still, it was nice to just sit and chat. Home now, and V. tired.

I expect I’m not long for a vertical position.

Tomorrow, I hope to write like the wind. I’ll check in as can.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

Old brains for new

The Long Back Yard.  For those who don’t know why I do this:  The daily picture of the Long Back Yard is what the Long Back Yard looks like when I wake up.  Yesterday’s picture was not a photographic or an uploading error.  Thank you.

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Something a little different — Steve Miller and Sharon Lee signing Plan B at Mr. Paperback in Skowhegan Maine in 1999.

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All righty, then! That was Monday.

1,830ish new words written; the WIP now stands at 127,250ish. I have eight scenes left to write, and I know what they are and I just want to keep on going, but — why do brains get tired? Definite design flaw. I want a refund. I had used to want a new brain, but I’ve finally figured out how to (mostly) work with this one.

Tomorrow? There will be no writing. I have A List.

pulls list out of sleeve
AHEM
1 Take trash and recycling to curb
2 7:45 go to PT
3 Go to grocery
3a Stop home and put groceries away
4 Go to Augusta
4a,b,c Run a stack of errands that have piled up since last week
5 Come home
5a Eat something
6 Go to needlework
7 Come home and faceplant

Wednesday through Sunday, however, I got nothing. Fingers crossed that I will be able to type a provisional –end– by Sunday night.

Re: being tired of a book in progress: Writing a book is an enormous undertaking; a stupidly complex project that takes way too long (NOTE: I do not speak here for the people who write 58 books a year and laugh while they do it. I am not them.). As with any other large, complex project, like, say, building a boat, there are times in the process when you just wanna throw your hammer out the window and walk away. Not because you think what you’re building is useless or dreadful (though there are those moments, too), but just because it’s taking So. Damned. Long.

Writers have a far different relationship with their books than readers do, starting with the disparity in the time it takes to write a book and the time it takes to read that same book.

And that’s Monday at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’d everybody’s day go?

In which the plan changes, and changes again

The Long Back Yard

The toilet is fixed. Steve Symonds deserves a twenty-five flower parade.

I would like the record to show that I? could never have fixed this myself. A hacksaw was involved.

‘nough said.
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Sunday. Cloudy and cooler than it’s been tending.

Got up early because that’s when I woke up. Oatmeal for breakfast. Chicken breast for lunch if it happens to have thawed. If not, something else.

Wrote, oh? 700 words this morning. Given the timing of breakfast, it’s probably not too early to start investigating the idea of lunch. I will do my duty the cats first, in the interests of going back to writing after lunch.

Yes, I am pushing, but I’m at the stage where “almost done!” is driving the writing engine, and, as I may have mentioned once or twice: I’m really tired of this book.

I put up the “Roman” curtain over the window in the front door, and while it’s better than what was there, I’m not convinced it’s actually what I want for the sliders in Steve’s office. If the tie-ups were longer so I could actually adjust the shade to the height of my choosing, which you would think would be the point of this design, I might be convinced. As it is — meh.

I watched two? three, maybe? episodes of Spy Family last night and it is not for me. May try another title this evening, if I don’t faceplant first.

I am aware that I am taking way long with the Agent of Change readalong — I plead illness. Also, yes, I, too, am reading Conflict of Honors. Things will happen as they happen at this point. Total chaos for the win.

How’s everybody doing today?
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Steve Miller, The Empire State Carousel, Fennimore Farm Museum, Cooperstown NY, June 21, 2023.  Photo by Sharon Lee.

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Change of plan, because weather and also brain wants a rest.

So! Wrote just a smidge over 1,000 words today. WIP now at 125,440ish.

You know how you’re sick, after you’re well again, you have to do all the things you let slide? Yeah, that would be my realization today. If there’s eight feet of snow on the ground on Tuesday, I’ve got to get the trash to the curb, so I went out while it was still warm(ish) to load the toboggan with trash bags and fill up the recycling bin. So, that’s ready for Tuesday morning, no matter what.

Also, I missed changing out the cat boxes, ref “sick” above, so that will be my next trick, after which I get a shower, sweats, and ice cream in my blanket fort.

This means I can write tomorrow, and get the trash out before I have to be at PT on Tuesday morning (boy, am I gonna be in trouble with the therapist), with the least possible amount of exertion, and, hopefully, no crazypants.

I’ll just say my good-evenings now. Kind of a weird day, but, some days are weird.

Everybody stay safe.

Long day

What went before:

Saturday. Sunny and warm. Snow is melting apace.

Breakfast was, as planned, the leftovers from yesterday’s chef salad scrambled with two eggs, which made for a pretty big meal. Not sure what lunch is. Cheese and crackers? Could be cheese and crackers.

Got to work early despite having to stop and fix the toilet in Steve’s bathroom. I should say, mostly fix. It’s stopped the constant running, but the float seems to have sprung a leak, so there’s still a little water running out of it. I’ve been resisting calling a plumber, becau$e, but that may be a false economy.

Wrote about 700 words, and taking a break because that last scene reduced me to, um, tears.

It occurred to me that there ought to be heated mats to go under desks, and there are, byerlady! So — retail therapy FTW — a mat for Steve’s office, a mat for the studio — a mat for my office? Oh, why not?

After shopping, I’ll go back to write some more until lunch time, after which it’s track changes, which, with the application of a bit of elbow grease, I may finish today, and wouldn’t that be nice?

Also? Despite having been doing nothing for days, the desk in my office is once again overflowing with stuff. I hope the goblins haven’t found another way in.

I bought a very nice “beginner” demonstrator pen from JetPens — it arrived yesterday. My only beef is that it’s a cartridge pen, but there’s getting to be some days when I oughtn’t be left alone with a bottle of ink, so there is that.

I can’t really tell you much about this pen, since the packaging is completely in Japanese. I can say it’s a Pilot pen, and it’s name appears to be kaküno. Writes nice and smooth; very light in the hand. I haven’t dropped it yet, so can’t report on its durability. Cheap, too. Under $15US. I got the medium nib, because that’s the way I roll. If you’ve been thinking about trying a fountain pen, this might be worth your time to explore.

Thanks to everyone who suggested anime worthy of watching. I remember I was looking for Spy Family the day Steve died… This is not to lay blame or to invoke the Sad, but to say that I had apparently thought we’d enjoy it, and while I have Crunchyroll, I might as well have a look-in.

And, yes, I am talking about trivialities while the world is on fire. The only thing I can do at this point, is what I always do, and be a witness for civilized behavior.

deep breath

How’s everybody doing today?
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So, yeah — cheese and crackers and an orange. That’s lunch, innit? Am drinking “figgy pudding” tea from my Christmas teas. I had not been sanguine, going in, but it’s quite tasty and delivers the warmth that the rest of the meal lacked.

On the writing front, that’s +/- 1,340 new words. WIP stands at +/-124,785.

As soon as I’ve finished my tea, I will do my duty the cats, then clear a space on my desk so I can track me some changes.

The cats think I ought to take a nap, and they’re probably not wrong…
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Toe bean break:


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Yeah, I should’ve taken a nap. OTOH, the track changes are done and returned, and! I managed to turn off the water running into the toilet, go me.

I had made a comment the other day in my rant about the cost of Sssses and the prevailing wisdom of adding a “third” S to perfectly good words. Sometimes, in fact, the prevailing wisdom only adds one extra S.

Example: Chaos’s

That? Is an ugly something or other.

In my day, believe it or don’t, when you had a situation where you needed to show that Chaos was being possessive, you indicated that by this: Chaos’

Which looks much better to me than all these random Sssses wriggling all over the page.

All that said? I’m tired, and Rookie is insisting that it’s Happy Hour, so it must be time for me to wash the pots ‘n pans.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

The Friday Report

So, I woke up at 5:45, and my neck was swollen and sore again and I addressed the universe in a disrespectful manner. Then I took the Command Decision to FTS, got up, got dressed, made a cup and a thermos of tea, took that and a KIND breakfast bar back to Steve’s office, woke up his computer and got to work.

I broke for lunch around noon, having written about 800 words — lunch being a chef’s salad from the deli. I ate a little more than half with a serving of soup I’d had in the freezer. Tomorrow, I’ll put what’s left — some meat, cheese, tomato and onions — into scrambled eggs for breakfast, so that’s ONE meal figured out for tomorrow.

Returned to Steve’s office after lunch and wrote some more. Got tired eventually and quit for the day. Did my duty to the cats. Waiting for the mail to arrive so I can bring in the package that’s supposed to be included before the ink freezes, then take a shower and probably collapse.

I should report that I feel somewhat better than I did when I woke up. I did take the combined Motrin, and if the kind of pain I woke up with this morning is what it’s keeping at bay — all honor to it. Also used hot compresses on my neck.

The cats have been hanging in all day, which was! Cloudy and warm. Snow is melting, or at least compacting. I’m really glad I asked the Magnificent Plowguy to sand the driveway. HUGE improvement.

Finished watching The Apothecary Diaries last night. My *goodness*, that was some tight storytelling! Well done, writers.

I can now cancel Crunchyroll. I do, yes, realize, that there’s a ton of anime offered there, but the chances of my stumbling upon anything actually worth watching are, um, low. If anybody had a rec that’s worth keeping Crunchyroll around for — by all means speak. My taste, apparently, runs to stuff like AD. Back in the day I liked Fruit Baskets and … the one with the duck — ah. Princess Tutu. Writing Anime. If that’s not a subgenre, it ought to be.

And the mail’s in! And Rook is chasing Tali around my office because it’s all her fault. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what “it” is.

Writing stats: New words written (I think not all of these today, but honestly, what do I know?): +/-2,190. Total words in WIP: +/-124,117.

And that’s the beans.

How’s everybody holding up?

Earlier today.  Firefly had ennui.

Out Sick Part II

Tuesday. Sunny, though we’re supposed to be looking for a winter storm or maybe that’s blowing out to sea, what do I know?

Still sick. Still resentful. Not really interested in eating but I have to so I can take the magic drugs. Been reading a Gentleman in Possession of Secrets.

Tali helped me sit in the sun earlier. Now I’m on the couch and Firefly is sitting on the back, flirting and purring. Last seen, Rookie was asleep in the bed.

And that’s what I’ve got. Hope everybody’s having a good day.

This dictated to my phone.

Some are born to greatness

The Long Back Yard:

Saturday. Late getting up. Sunny and cold.

Firefly joined me on the couch last night and went to sleep really hard so I stayed with her and finished my book. Then I got up and wandered out to my office which was so bright that I thought I must have left the light on.

But no, it was the Moon. What a beautiful, beautiful moon, and the world turned black and white.

Shadows black and magical across the snow filled yard.

I sat on the cats observation table for a while and communed with the moon, which meant I didn’t get to bed until after midnight.

And here we are.

This was dictated via my phone
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So, today I’m taking down the decorations; have a couple of errands in the afternoon. Any writing will likely be of the Sitting with the Manuscript variety. Also need to swap out the cat fountains, in anticipation of which the dishwasher is doing its thing.

How’s everybody doing this morning?
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Decorations down — I nearly forgot the window star, but remembered it when there was a box with nothing in it.

Errands run. I have a grinder on loan, thanks to the generosity of Carmela Patriotti. Ordered in dunch while I was putting the taken-down decorations away. Dishwasher emptied and now it’s time to swap out the cat fountains, after which I do believe I may collapse on the couch and avoid the news.

All that said, I’ll just say my goodnights now.

Everybody stay safe, be careful, hug the people you love.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you from the man who wrote Shakespeare’s plays, from Twelfth Night:  “Some are born to greatness, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”

Firefly helped me take the tree down: