Goofing Off – Page 8 – Sharon Lee, Writer

I do not think that word means what you think it means

So had follow-up at dentist, which was, according to him, a “consultation.” To me, “consultation” means sitting ’round a table and drawing up a Treatment Plan, or figuring out which things are priorities and which are pie in the sky. “You will not,” the dentist said to me — the last thing he said to me, at the end of our last appointment — “need to take the sedative.”

So, I didn’t take the sedative, and I didn’t bring the bear. BIG mistake, there. I’m gonna start making it Policy to just bring the damn’ bear. She can sit in a chair next to me and play with the pens if it turns out we’re in a meeting. Because! It comes to pass that the dentist’s idea of “consultation” is, You sit in the dental chair; I show you the model of your mouth and what the problem is. I tell you what I’m going to do about it. Then, I do it, right now.

On top of this, the Tooth of Doom (which always hurts, a little, no matter that I’ve given it two root canals and a pretty porcelain cap) blew up on me yesterday, which I noticed when I took my first sip of coffee and the pain sent me Right. Through. The. Ceiling.

Informed of this circumstance, the dentist decided to knock around on the teeth on either side of the Tooth of Doom, to see if anything else was compromised. I can see where this is going to end up — I mean, I’m not an idiot — and I carefully tuck my hands under my thighs so I don’t hurt anybody.

Knock Tooth One. “Does this hurt?” Headshake.

Knock Tooth Two. “Does this hurt?” Headshake.

Knock Tooth Three. “Does this hurt?” Headshake.

Knock Tooth Four — I’d grabbed his wrist before I even knew I was moving.

“OK, then! This one.”

Sigh.

Anyhow, we got through the consultation with everybody still standing, and no one bloodied. He filed down some of my upper teeth (“The bottom teeth, I will not touch this time. I promise.”) so they’ll fit better with the bottom teeth, and recommended braces. We made another appointment, for a consultation, in two weeks, and I’m here to tell you right now that I’m not only taking the bear; I’m taking the sedative, too.

The plan for the rest of the afternoon was to see Winter Soldier, but I already used up a week’s supply of adrenaline. I think maybe a nap is in order.

In which the author looks for guidance in goofing off some more

I’ve been seeing a lot of squee about Winter Soldier, and! it so happens that I still have two matinee admissions left on my Flagship Cinema gift card. I’m drawn to the squee, but. . .not Cap’s biggest fan here, so I’m torn. Have you seen Winter Soldier? What did you like about it (as reasonably as you can without spoilers)? Do you think there’s enough Other Stuff/Characters to carry the movie for someone who’s lukewarm (at best) on Captain America?

In other, completely unrelated news, the blurb for Carousel Seas is now up at Amazon — here’s the link — from which we learn, among other things, that Carousel Sun is/was a National Bestseller, according, I’m thinking, to Bookscan. Which is nice to know.

In that same vein, and for those who did not read it elsewhere, Liaden Universe® Constellation Volume 2 appeared in the Locus Bestseller List for Trade Paperbacks reported in the April issue, at Number Two, just behind Fahrenheit 451.

Thank you all, because we surely couldn’t have achieved either of those list without you.

Here at the Cat Farm, it’s warm again, and sunny, but we’re not going to the ocean. I’ve done the dishes, and groomed the cats, and other Sunday chore sorts of things and in a couple minutes, I’ll be turning off the intertubes and getting down to work.

Hope y’all are having an enjoyable weekend.

The moon at night is big and bright

Steve tells me that “Deep in the Heart of Texas” is less desirable as an earworm than “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?”

You be the judge.

So, yesterday, we went to the ocean. Here’s a picture of the Atlantic Ocean, Gulf of Maine edition, as seen from the top of Brown Street, in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, which is approximately the view Kate Archer has from the summer parlor at the house at the top of Dube Street, in Archers Beach:

In which the ocean is not frozen and the snow is receding. Old Orchard Beach, April 3, 2014 Photo by Sharon Lee — In which the ocean is not frozen and the snow is receding. Old Orchard Beach, April 3, 2014
Photo by Sharon Lee

It was a bright and sunny day, with the breeze off the ocean. Steve and I bundled up and walked the beach for a while, then cut uptown and took pictures of various things that caught our fancies. Mostly, we were working blind, it being that sunny, and both of us having surrendered our viewfinders for the convenience of cameras that make it impossible to block photographs in strong sunlight.

What an age we live in.

Here’s a picture of Daddy’s, familiar to those who may have read Carousel Sun:

Old Orchard Beach April 3 2014 photo by Sharon Lee — Old Orchard Beach April 3 2014
photo by Sharon Lee

. . .and here’s a picture of Steve, standing in front of the carousel’s storm gate:

Steve at the ocean April 3, 2014 Photo by Sharon Lee — Steve at the ocean April 3, 2014
Photo by Sharon Lee

After we had walked around some, we stopped at JJ’s Two for lunch (barbecue meatloaf, mmmmm), walked back to the car and wandered up to Pine Point to look at the ducks. We were not disappointed. I didn’t get a picture of the ducks — big white and black ducks, and mallards, and little black ducks, all swimming around with the crowd of seagulls.

We left town through the Scarborough Marsh, and counted more than a dozen herons on frog-hunt, and also — ducks.

We came home by way of Giffords, for milkshakes, then read a couple chapters of Jim Hetley’s Ghost Point before moving on to lunch (meatloaf reprise, on whole wheat rolls, mmmmm), and so to bed.

This morning, we hit the Button Down Cafe at the Hathaway center for breakfast, which was very tasty. The owner, Mrs. K, was very pleasant and we had a good time, in addition to a good meal. Definitely going back for lunch, soon.

Thus fortified, we hit the redemption center, the post office, and did the grocery shopping. Now, we’re home, and the rest of the day for me is the chores I neglected last week while Steve does a read-through of The WIP.

It is, by the way, another sunny and warm day (38F/3C).

Tonight, it’s supposed to snow.

In other news, the new comb Princess Sprite ordered arrived in today’s mail, as has Code Name Verity.

And now?

To the Dyson!

————–

For those who didn’t grow up with Mitch Miller, and have therefore been unfairly shielded from the earworm, the title of today’s blog post comes from “Deep in the Heart of Texas”. Here’s your link. And — you’re welcom.

Mid-afternoon check-in

. . .Now how often do you get double-hyphenations in a title?

I am made of awesome.

In other news, Trooper and I retired to the bedroom to listen to music and doze for about three hours, rising to partake of the dinner that Steve made for us — that’s him and me; not Trooper and me. I’m not really sure how Trooper feels about mashed potatoes.

At the moment, well-fed and freshly showered, I’m feeling fine. This is what tripped me up yesterday. So! In celebration of feeling fine, I’m moving my base of operations from the bed to the couch, where I believe I will read. And drink water/ice tea, and in general emulate one of those layabout writers y’all see in movies.

The above course of action is in service of the notion that, tomorrow, I’ll actually be in shape to get some damned work done.

Also! The Plan is Afoot to build a Circus College in Portland, at Thompson Point. The Point will be mixed-use: college, condos, offices, and I wanna live next to the Circus College! Links courtesy of Steve: Portland Officials to See New Thompson Point Master Plan and Thompson Point Development Project Moving Forward.

And, Sprite’s burgeoning fan club will be pleased to know that she has achieved yet another honorific: Jasmine Underchair.

I believe that gives us Jasmine Sprite, Princess of the Night, Warrior Princess of East Winslow, Nemesis of the Springs, Scourge of Lizards, Professor of Centrifugal Studies, Brat, and Jasmine Underchair.

Somebody make a note.

I, to the couch.

Authors’ Night Out

Last night, Steve and I braved the Cold and Dark to journey across the river, to the old Hathaway Factory, which is now a combined condo/retail establishment, and includes the justly-famous Hathaway Creative Center.

Why did we do this, you ask?

Because it was PechaKucha Night.

In fact, the 14th PechaKucha Night in Waterville. I was plying my secretarial arts at Colby when one of my favorite professors tried to convince me to present at either the first or second PechaKucha Night. I thought he’d lost his mind, but figured that I’d get to one someday soon, when Things Calmed Down.

Then I quit my day-job and lost track of things like PechaKucha Nights.

What brought it back onto my radar was the announced participation of Doug Thornsjo and of Uri and Gabe Lessing, all of whom we think kindly of. And, really, PechaKucha seemed a fine ending to a week fraught with dental adventures.

So, anyway, there we were with a record crowd of almost 200 like-minded residents of the Waterville/Winslow/Wimsy megapolis scrunched into the Hathaway Creative Center to hear seven presentations on passions.

If you’ve never PechaKucha’d, it’s a system of presentation that lasts six minutes and 40 seconds, or 20 slides x 20 seconds, with commentary. Here’s a link to the Official Description. Presenters speak on a variety of topics; the PechaKucha tag-line is: Share Your Passion, Present What You Love.

Last night, for instance, we heard a presentation on the joys of old-fashioned paper mail pen-paling; the process and purpose of making feminist paper dolls; the efforts of Rotary International to eradicate polio in Nigeria and other far-flung places; and the high points of a work-study session spent tagging sharks in the Caribbean. We heard from a visual communications teacher at a local high school, and from three of his students. Doug spoke about his current creative projects, including the production of the Zirkus of the Magi Tarot Deck. Uri and Gabe were co-emcees for the event, introducing each presenter, and reading copy for the “spotlight ads”.

It was a startlingly positive experience. Everyone seemed to be having fun. The presenters were all well-prepared and engaging; no one was at all rushed during their 6 minutes and 40 seconds of fame.

If you have a chance to attend one of these things, I’m betting it would be worthwhile, if only for the real-time reminder that people are endlessly fascinating.

If you’re within the sound of the Waterville/Winslow/Wimsy megapolis, the next Waterville PechaKucha is on Friday, April 11; then, proceeding quarterly, on July 10 and October 17. The group has a Facebook page, here.

The writers, goofing off

So, to the dentist early this morning, on Steve’s behalf. This was the last in a series of four dental-related adventures scheduled for this week. Everything’s come out well. I do wish there was dental insurance available anywhere in the beautiful state of Maine, though. Ow.

Since we were already out, and the sun was, too; and after Steve had eaten his fill of a breakfast that wasn’t “soft,” we pointed Argent the Subaru in the direction of the Great City of Augusta, where it was our intention to visit our “local” Barnes and Noble to sign stock, and also to take on Tesla: Inventor of the Electric Age.

Stock consisted of one hardcover Trade Secret, and one each paperbacks Fledgling, Saltation, Mouse and Dragon, and was quickly dealt with.

The Tesla bio was not in stock, so it’s being sent along to the house as soon as BN finds one in the warehouse.

Bidness done, we mooched around; Steve was being entranced by the games and toys. I wandered over to the Writing and Publishing section, and saw a book titled Book in a Month: The Fool-Proof System for Writing a Novel in 30 Days. The dental bill very much in my mind, I picked this up, to find that it is authored by one Victoria Lynn Schmidt, PhD, who has written several books touching on the craft of writing, but does not appear, herself, to have actually written a novel.

Am I wrong to want a book about a fool-proof system for writing a novel in 30 days to have actually been written by someone who, oh, I don’t know, writes novels? In 30 days? And sells them?

Sheesh.

After that disappointment, it was all the more delightful to find our friend Stew minding the music section. We shot many bulls; Steve bought a Tai Chi DVD and I bought a Yoga DVD, and as we were standing there getting the credit cards sorted out, I said, “Nice fiddle music,” and Steve agreed. Stew showed us the cover for “What’s Playing Now” and we added Lindsey Stirling to our pile. For, as it turns out, free, because BN was having an in-store “buy two, get the third free” sale.

We played the new music on the way home. I gotta tell you what — I’d’ve played the hell of this thing when I was ~~incarcerated~~ working at Colby.

Here, try one.

The schedule for the rest of the day includes writing, and laundry, and maybe a nap. Because — rising ridiculously early four days in a row? So not cool.

The old broken stars they fall down on the land

So, last night we made the journey into Waterville to see James McMurty perform at the Opera House.

The House was full; I think the three empty seats in the row directly in front of us may have been the only empty seats. It was a crowd almost exclusively made up of the gray of hair, and all of us had a startlingly raucous good time.

I had one of those Awkward Moments of Mortality when the Aggressively Blonde woman in her Coordinated Outfit sitting beside Steve got up to dance. “Really?” I thought. “She’s sixty-five if she’s a day.”

hi-hat

James, who was without the Heartless Bastards for this show, sang and played for two hours straight. You know what? Having just recently finished a tour where all I did was sit and talk for two hours, I don’t know how he did it. I went back to the hotel exhausted, and my voice still hasn’t recovered. James has another show tonight, in New Hampshire.

If you get a chance to see James perform — grab it.

Even if your hair isn’t gray.

* * *

. . .so, today at the Confusion Factory, having identified the Cause of the Stuckness on First of Five, I will be going through Dragon Ship and extracting a chronology so I can figure out where I am in Space and Time. I suspect this will show me that the two story arcs I had thought to tackle this time are mismatched, which will mean I’ll need to sort through my Big Box of Story Tackle and Spare Parts to find the correct linkage, which is kind of a pain in the hat.

But not as much of a pain in the hat as writing three-quarters of a book and then realizing that the timing’s off.

* * *

Fans of Sprite will be pleased to know that she has ascended from the Cold and Dreary Basement and is now spending almost all of her time upstairs in the warm world, where she has become the Terror of the Stuffed Chipmunk, and started circulating a petition to ensure that All The Hugs Belong to Her.

The petition has little chance of getting enough signatures in this house, but its nice to see that she’s civic minded.

The rest of the cats continue, mostly unperturbed. Mozart accords the kid a sort of absent-minded goodwill; and she’s respectful, as is proper. Scrabble, of course, isn’t about to take any ‘tude from an overpowered kitten, no matter how tall she is.

Trooper actually deals with her the most, which is a mixed blessing, I think, from his perspective. On the one paw, it’s good to have somebody to play tag and wrestle with. On the other paw, she’s trying to take over all the Good Places he’s identified for himself.

On the left hind paw, though, he’s not shy about asserting his rights, when they matter. Just yesterday, Sprite had taken over the Plan B box in my office, and Trooper decided that he wanted it. So, he just. . .walked in, apparently intending to lie down on the kitten, if that’s what it took.

The kitten vacated in favor of the blue rug behind my chair.

And thus. . .tranquility reigns at the Cat Farm.

What did y’all do this weekend that was fun?

Ride with your brindled hounds at heel and your good grey hawk in hand

Last reminder: Steve Miller and Sharon Lee will be on the road in support of Trade Secret, the seventeenth and newest Liaden Universe® novel. We’ll be signing books, reading excerpts, talking trash, drinking coffee and eating cookies (cookies!). This is the roadshow of the century, here, and you don’t want to miss it.

Are we going to be in your town? Here’s the schedule. We hope to see you — yes, you! and your friends and family, too! — at one or more of our stops along the way.*

Now! As you see from the schedule, our very first stop on the tour is tomorrow night — that’s Halloween! — at Pandemonium Books, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Which means? — anyone?

Yes, you with the curly green beard. . .thank you, very good!

It means that I’ll be on the road, with limited connectivity.

This is important to you, because. . .

. . .Madame the Editor, who is, it must be admitted, a bit of a tease, has made reference to All Hallows Eve as perhaps a Day of Interest for those who have been waiting for the eArc of Carousel Sun. This is not, understand, in any way a promise on Madame’s part, though the date would be particularly apt.

So! This is what I’d like you to do for me, if you would be so very kind:

If the eArc comes up — shout the news from the rooftops. Tell all your friends, post it to Facebook, Twitter, relevant listservs, and on your blog. It would be a big help for the title, since it’s been so long — 2010! — since Carousel Tides came out, and after a while people forget to look for a sequel.

Thank you.

On the Getting Ready to Rhumba Front, packing has been accomplished. There are a couple more house chores to be finished ere we leave — the sheets are washing now, for instance; and we have a late-breaking business conference call to deal with, mid-afternoon, then the Ritual Handing Off of the Key to the House Sitter.

The cats, of course, are taking all of this in stride. I have the pictures to prove it:

Scrabble taking a bath, with heffalumps. Note the rare footage of the toes, like little pearls.

Mozart napping on the pillow at the bottom of the bed, also displaying footage.

Trooper in his Plan B box, in my office, overseen by a Motley Gaggle(tm) of stuffies.

________________

*If we are not going to be in your town this time, and you are, or know of, a bookstore or convention who would like to host us, please pass this information on to Baen. Thanks!

#SFWAPro

Bustling Monday

So, today we need to be in town early-ish in order to speak with the Spirit Guide from the Health Marketplace. That will be Interesting. For values of Interesting including low comedy when we try to get the concept of “freelance writers” across. Perhaps I’ll treat Steve to a pumpkin latte, after.

After, we each have errands in diverse parts of town, and then Before Tour Chores here at home. I’ll commit to answering such questions as have short answers attached to them, then we’ll put paid to this Open Q&A Session. Let me know what you thought, and if we should do it again sometime.

* * *

In other news, there is a wealth of free reading from Lee and Miller, and Miller available right! now!

1. “Out of True” is available on the Baen website

2. Steve has added two pieces to Splinter Universe: the Author’s Introduction to Quicksliver and the first three chapters of Quicksliver

* * *

Progress on One of Five (restart)

7,559/100,000 OR 7.56%

Her father had told her that she would be running double-time, in effect taking two lines of training simultaneously: cabin-girl and novice trader.

She had chosen to, well. . .not discount his words, no. She had merely chosen to see them as a challenge.

Progress going forward

I have today hung pictures on the wall over my desk. Photographic proof is below.

In the process of shifting this to get to that other thing that always attends any project, though it’s never anticipated at the outset, I found and destroyed a cache of old Bulletins and SFWA directories, the Officers’ Guidelines from 1999 and 2000, a half-dozen Romance Sells containing ads for Lee and Miller novels, and four issues of Analog, containing reviews of our work.

I threw it all out! Except the Analogs. It felt wonderful.

So, a productive day.

I decided not to rehang some of the pictures I’d taken down. The Mouse and Dragon print and the kitty-under-a-blanket are holding place for the art for Carousel Seas, which will be along, so I trust, in the Fullness of Time.

The Wall Revisioned. You can tell that this is my work because everything is crooked. I imagine. Everything I hang is always crooked, though damned if I know how people can tell. — The Wall Revisioned.
You can tell that this is my work because everything is crooked.
Or so I imagine.
Everything I hang is always crooked, though I’m damned if I know how people can tell.

But! Enough fun for one day! Time to go put the bed back together and do some dishes.