blog – Page 11 – Sharon Lee, Writer

Books read in 2024

54 The Masquerades of Spring, Ben Aaronovitch (e)
(53 Salvage Right, Sharon Lee & Steve Miller (e))
52 Black Dogs Part Two: The Mountain of Iron, Ursula Vernon (e)
51 Black Dogs Part One: House of Diamond, Ursula Vernon (e)
50 The Wind’s Twelve Quarters, Ursula K. Le Guin (book club)
49 Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels(Dangerous Damsels #1)India Holton (e)
48 Two Old Women, Velma Wallis (book club)
47 First Lie Wins, Ashley Elston (e)
46 Mystic Tea, Rea Nolan Martin (book club)
45 Fated Blades, Ilona Andrews (e)
44 Grace, Beverly Watts (Shackleford Sisters #1) (e)
43 The Fortunate Fall, Cameron Reed (e)
42 A Sorceress Comes to Call, T. Kingfisher (e)
41 Secrets at Midnight, Nalini Singh (e)
40 Born a Crime, Trevor Noah (book club)
39 Rocky Start, Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer (e)
38 Librarian Bear, Murphy Lawless (Virtue Shifters #2) (e)
37 Primal Mirror, Nalini Singh (Psy-Changeling Trinity #8)
36 The Duke at Hazard, KJ Charles (The Gentlemen of Uncertain Fortune #2) (e)
35 Timber Wolf, Murphy Lawless/Zoe Chant (Virtue Shifters) (e)
34 Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus (book club)
33 Whammo Ranch, Jerry Boyd (Bob and Nikki Book 2)(e)
32 Bob’s Saucer Repair, Jerry Boyd (Bob and Nikki Book 1) (e)
31 Finders, Melissa Scott (Firstborn, Last born Book 1), (e)
30 When the Dandelions Sing: A Novel, James J. Hill III (book club)
29 Winter Lost, Patricia Briggs, (Mercy Thompson #14) (e)
28 Koalafied for Love, Murphy Lawless (Virtue Shifters) (e)
27 The Time Traders, Andre Norton (re-read) (e)
26 War for the Oaks, Emma Bull (re-re-&c-read) (book club)
25 Earthly Delights, Kerry Greenwood (Corinda Chapman #1) (re-read) (e)
24 Wednesday’s Child, Rhea Côté Robbins
23 Hate Mail, Donna Marchetti (e)
22 Comfort is an Old Barn, Amy Calder (book club)
21 Arabella, Georgette Heyer (e) (re-read)
20 The Foundling, Georgette Heyer (e) (possibly I read this once before)
19 Death in the Spires, KJ Charles (e)
18 What Cannot be Said, C.S. Harris (Sebastian St. Cyr #19) (e)
17 The Grief of Stones, Katherine Addison (e) (re-read)
16  Witness for the Dead, Katherine Addison (e) (re-read)
15 The Goblin Emperor, Katherine Addison (e) (re-re-re-read)*
14 Hen Fever, Olivia Waite (e)
13 Unmasked by the Marquis, Cat Sebastian (e) ( re-read)
12 A Duke in Disguise, Cat Sebastian (e) (reread)
11 Heart of Stone, Johannes T. Evans (e)
10 West with the Night, Beryl Markham (e)
9   A Song to Drown Rivers, Ann Liang (e) (netgalley)
8   Bookstores and Bonedust, Travis Baldree (prequel) (e) (library)
7   We Could Be So Good, Cat Sebastian (e) (library)
6   Thorn Hedge, T. Kingfisher (e) (library)
5   Wild Seed, Octavia M. Butler (e) (library)
4 In Our Stars, Jack Campbell (Doomed Earth #1) (pre-pub) (e)
3 Legends and Lattes, Travis Baldree (e) (library)
2 Heart of the Sun Warrior, Sue Lynn Tan, (Celestial Kingdom #2) (e) (library)
1 This is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone (e) (library)

_____
*… I think I may have lost track. I do know I started several books, and put them aside, because I Just Couldn’t. I stress that it wasn’t Them, it was Me. I don’t think I actually finished anything before I finally did manage to settle into a re-re-re-&C-read of The Goblin Emperor, so that’s where we’ll pick up the tally.

And the key that was lost

And now? I’m gonna tell y’all a ghost story.

Gather ’round.

Long-time readers will perhaps recall that I have Thing about my suitcase lock. Inevitably, when we were packing, I would at the very last minute realize that I had lost the key to the lock, and I would panic, because packing is right up there among my Least Favorite Things To Do Ever. I would look in All the Places, getting ever more frantic, and finally at A Point, Steve would step in and walk me through the Places One More Time, narrating the whole journey in a perfectly calm and reasonable voice, and assuring me that I was very orderly, that the key was discoverable, and worlds were not about to burn.

And damn if he wasn’t — always — right. The key was right there on my keyring, or in the jewelry box, or in whatever other safe and reasonable place that I had already looked; relief reigned, and worlds did not, in fact, burn.

Fast forward to my trip to Norwich at the beginning of November. Yes, I lost the key to the suitcase lock; I looked everywhere and didn’t find it, sat down and cried. Then I toured the house, talking in as calm and reasonable voice as I could manage, telling myself that I was very orderly, that the key was discoverable, and worlds were not about to burn.

Well.

Worlds did not burn, but I didn’t find the key, either, and I finally just left the damn lock dangling from the zipper pull, threw the suitcase in the car and got on the road.

One more fast forward, to this morning.

I have been the sole driver of our car since last November. Remember this plot point.

I drove to gym; I drove to Marden’s. I opened the driver’s side door after I had successfully hunted rugs and blanket, and there, on the seat — was the key to my suitcase lock.

It hadn’t been there when I got into the car to go to gym. It hadn’t been there when I got out of the car at Marden’s.

Yes, I tested it — it’s the right key.

So, yanno, not much as ghost stories go. But there it is — for your consideration.

Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clements

Tuesday. Cloudy and cold. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Breakfast was rice crackers, cream cheese, and one of those tiny mandarin oranges. Finishing up the first cup of tea. Lunch — is hours from now.

I really need to go to gym and get back in the habit of going to gym. I used to go to gym so I could do stuff for us that Steve could no longer do, and that logic remains. I hate running without backup, but that’s the road, so — gym. No, really. Even though it’s cold and I don’t wanna.

After gym, I may or may not swing by Marden’s to see if I can find a runner — winter is here and snow will be tracked into the house. Better it melts on a rug than on the wood floors. I keep trying to remember what we did, yanno, last winter, and the five winters before, but — apparently it’s one of those minor details the brain scuttled to make room for Larger Things. I suppose it’s possible we just brought one of the runners from downstairs, upstairs, but they’re being used and useful where they are, so I’d rather just leave them where they’re doing good.

I got the proof trade paper of Sea Wrack and Changewind yesterday in the mail. My! That is a *handsome* book.

Preorders for Sea Wrack and Changewind ebook stand at 177 at Amazon; 10 at Apple; 2 BN; 9 Kobo.

. . . and that’s the news.

Off to gym with me.

Who else is going to gym today?

Saturday into Sunday

So, yesterday was all about transferring files from Moose to the new-as-yet-nameless desktop.

There were a few heartstopping moments, such as when I thought the new hire was DOA, but the ritual flapping of hands while speaking the relevant incantations produced the revelation that the new screen was the problem, and that problem was? A badly seated HDMI-1 cable. This particular screen, whose makers apparently harbor Lofty Ideas of one’s ambition, came with two HDMI cables. Installing the second fixed the problem.

At the moment, Moose is hooked up in the living room, with the new screen, and the new hire is here at my desk with the old but still completely functional old screen.

While all those adventures were taking place, my next door neighbors came by with their snowblower and got the driveway sorted, for which I am very grateful.

Also, catching up yesterday’s events — a kind friend sent me not only a baking stone, but a pizza stone. These join the kneading board which had been given by another friend a few weeks ago. I am now reading to open my own bakery. As soon as I get these cats out of here.

Yeah, right.

We’re now caught up on Saturday, and move on to —

Sunday. Cold and grey.

Breakfast was buttermilk biscuits with sausage and cheese. Lunch will be lentil soup. Drinking my second cup of tea, and there’s a third in my near future.

I cannot tell you how much I’m hoping that the person who agreed to come and install programmable thermostats in this house actually comes and does that. It will be a marvelous thing to arise from my rosy bower to a house that’s warm and not have to shiver for an hour while temps achieve life-sustaining levels.

Last nigh, I realized that, of all the Stuff I did remember to back up for the new computer, I failed to download my Libreoffice user dictionaries, which, at this point in one’s writing career are extensive. So, that’s today’s Big Goal.

Other than that, I have a scene, and what’s probably a short story knocking around in my head, so I may try to sit quietly at a keyboard and see if one, or both, might like to have a chat.

I am reading Magpie Murders and I must say, if Alan was supposed to be a riveting writer with Christie-esque charm, it hasn’t shown up in what I’ve read so far.

Amazon pre-orders for Sea Wrack and Changewind stand at 158; Apple 10; BN 2; Kobo 9.

Here, have a picture of Firefly completing her Solo Hall Blocking Exam.

Six for Gold

Saturday. Sunny and cold.

Breakfast was rice cakes and cream cheese with the last of the grapes. Kettle on for second cup of tea. Lunch with be Leftover Feast. Except for the apple pie. The apple pie is long gone.

Stayed up late last night to watch the last three episodes of Magpie Murders. For some reason, I had thought that there were only five episodes, and I had made a commitment to the cats that we would learn whodunit before we went to bed.

In the end — well done, all! I liked Mr. Horowitz’ commentary, and his description of, having written what must be a very tight book, needing to unravel and re-knit it into another sort of sweater entirely.

I did sort of blink at Mr. Horowitz’ comment, which I may have read, not heard, that when he started writing books, there was no Amazon, no internet, no computers.

Well . . . yeah. I wrote my first (second, third, fourth …) short story on a manual typewriter; we wrote Agent of Change on an electric typewriter. There were, of course, computers in existence at that time, but they were behemoths that were housed in their own substantial wing and bathed in freezing cold air. There was also an internet — Steve used to do card creation on the proto-internet, back in his curation days (note the juxtaposition: he was creating cards to go into a physical card catalog on the internet).

Anyhow, I’ve had Magpie Murders in my TBR pile for a while, so that’s queued up for next read, now that I’ve finished Salvage Right. I don’t usually see the movie first and then read the book, so this will be interesting.

My next door neighbor dropped me a note this morning, offering snow removal assistance, which I’ve accepted. I s’pose I’ll call the guy I thought I hired on Monday and ask if he’s still on.

I really don’t understand the people who say, “Yes! I will do this thing, for which you will pay me!” who then never show up, never phone, just — poof! Why on earth would you say yes if you have no intention of doing the thing? Surely, it’s much less hassle to just say, “Nope, sorry. Can’t do it.” Then everybody’s on the same square, no one’s aggrieved, and your karmic load isn’t disbalanced.

So! Today, is Change Out Computers Day! Always an exciting event. This also means that I may be scarce for a bit. Please talk among yourselves.

What’re you doing that’s exciting today?

And the snow comes tumbling from the sky

Friday. Blue skies and cold.

Breakfast is a Kodiak bar and a cup of tea. Lunch will be lentil soup.

There’s about 2 inches of ice-topped snow on the ground. Ashley was to come today, but I told her to stay home until I find out if the new plow guy is going to join the long list of ghosts who have agreed to do stuff and then — well. Ashley reports no power at her house. I’m good, here.

We did not pursue magpies last night, as I got involved in finishing my read of Salvage Right while getting stuff into Dropbox so it can be uploaded to the new computer. I think I’ve got everything, but will be doing a review this morning, and if all is where it should be, I’ll proceed with the changeover, after which I’ll be able to start the next book. Really, the timing on computer switch-out couldn’t have been more perfect. It’s *really* nerve-wracking when you have to shift data in the midst of writing a book or another big project.

So, the new Facebook terms of service mean that I will no longer be posting snippets there. I don’t know if I’ll be leaving the platform entirely. I’m not up on text-based social gathering places that are humane. Bluesky is nice, but it’s a Twitter-replacement, and limited by intent.

Be funny if we all got busted back to blogging.

So, that’s it — the Usual Chores, continue shifting computers, sign some bookplates, make some notes, find something else to read. A quiet day.

What’s your day look like?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Gaelic Storm, “Tell Me Ma.”

Here’s Firefly, overlooking the snow.

Three for a Girl

Thursday. US Thanksgiving Day. Cloudy, chilly. We here in Kennebec County rejoice under a Winter Weather Advisory, and anticipate between 2 and 6 inches of heavy, wet, snow.

Breakfast was cheese bread toast, cottage cheese, red grapes. Kettle on for second cup of tea. Lunch/Dinner will be Feast for One. I have turkey, gravy, smashed potatoes, dressing, squash, peas, cranberry sauce, roll, and a piece of apple pie bigger than my head.

Today, I will be laying out the paper edition(s) of Sea Wrack and Changewind. Layout counts as a relaxing activity. No, really, it does.

We watched Episode Three of Magpie Murders last night. Feeling a little impatient with Susan, but that might just be me. Will be watching Episode Four this afternoon or evening.

For those who coming in late, yes, indeed, my new computer is Very Small. No, it is not a Windows machine, nor yet a Mac. Yes, I do know that it runs POP Linux. In fact, the new machine replaces (almost exactly) the machine I’ve been running for the last six years, and which is still doing its job, absent an increased appetite for fans. I have purchased a new computer because this house (still) runs on computer power, and I wished to avoid the upcoming tariffs which will substantially increase the cost of, oh, everything. Pic of the cousins, below.

To everyone feasting and spending time with family today — joy and merriment. To those for whom this is Thursday — the same.

Two for Joy

Let’s see … Wednesday. Foggy and chill, weatherbeans calling for sun-through-clouds, later.

Firefly slept with me straight through last night; the third night she’s done so. I think I may be seeing a new schedule emerging, in which Trooper, backed by Rook, does the day-shift; then the all-hands rest/reading/viewing period following Coon Cat Happy Hour, with Firefly taking the night shift.

Breakfast was oatmeal, walnuts, the last of the peach jam. Just finishing up the first mug of tea. Lunch will be leftover soup mixed with rice to make it enough. The evening meal! will be a tomato sandwich, on account of I have sliced tomato that has to be used and I don’t wanna put it in the soup.

Today, my friends, is going to be a Day of Marvels. Or at least deliveries. Cat litter is said to be headed even now for the Cat Farm, as well as my new computer, and something from Amazon, which — honestly? — I have No Idea.

Speaking of, though: I should probably order in a usb hub for the living room. *writes on list* And once again, I thank those who thoughtfully sent me Amazon gift cards. You guys have been life-savers.

Aside from waiting on deliveries, I need to change out the tablecloth, and wash a load of towels and suchlike. At 3:30ish, I’ll go cross-town — a matter of 3.5 miles — to Governor’s to pick up my Feast for One, for tomorrow’s lunch. Around all that — one’s duty to the cats, signing some bookplates, and finish reading Salvage Right. Not an arduous day, which is good. Yesterday kinda wiped me out.

Last night, the cats and I viewed the second episode of Magpie Murders. We remain amused. Trooper’s distrust of Andreas would seem to be justified. Again, I liked the montage of the writer at work, and in fact liked the writer, which was echoed in the clue “Everyone who read Alan, loved him. Everyone who knew him, did not.” Also, it’s not often I’m jealous of visual media, but I would give … a lot … to be able to reproduce in prose the “O!” moment, when the present-day red car went zipping through the intersection just ahead of Mr. Pund’s 1955 … Triumph, maybe? We will be continuing.

In the spirit of burying the lede: There had been some interest expressed by ebook consumers in the matter of signed bookplates for Diviner’s Bow. (Those who are preodering hardcovers from Uncle will receive a plate with their book.) I spoke to Jason at Baen, and he is very kindly sending me 100 bookplates that will be available to those who send me a SASE (this is old-time writer code for Stamped, Self-Addressed Envelope). I will speak of this at greater length, and in more detail, in future. Consider this your Distant Early Warning.

Sea Wrack and Changewind: All of the Archers Beach Stories preorders now stand at 133. Thanks to everyone who has preordered. The ebook will be available from All The Usual Suspects on December 17.

And that gets us to the end of my news.

What’s yours?

One for Sorrow

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. The weatherbeans are adamant in their prediction of rain. We Shall See.

Trash and recycling at the curb. Did gym-like things at the gym. Car gassed up. Cat browsing stations replenished. Dishwasher emptied. Second cup of tea to hand.

Breakfast was … hours ago, actually. Um. Ah. Cottage cheese, grapes, toasted cheese bread. Lunch will be beanloaf and gravy over bread with a side salad.

Picked up yesterday’s mail today (yes, yes, but I don’t care to walk up to the street in the Stygian Darkness of 4:30pm, which is when my mail is typically delivered. I’m not expecting anything so precious that it can’t wait until tomorrow morning.) Progressive Insurance wants to sell me auto insurance, naturally, but they also want to sell me pet insurance, which — is a thought.

Those who have pet insurance — pros and cons?

ALL of the cats slept with me last night and who can blame them? It was cold.

Before that, we all watched the first episode of Magpie Murders, and enjoyed ourselves. Trooper is not impressed with Andreas, FWIW, and I’m a little uneasy, myself. I want to like him, but . . . . Firefly likes Mr. Pund, but then, she likes older men. Rook liked the magpies — family connections, I think.

I — am puzzled, but willing to continue to play. I did like the montage of the Writer at Work — very true to life, except Alan’s hand-drafts seemed much cleaner than any hand-draft has a right to be. The mysteries are interesting. I had been fearing a rewrite of Naked Once More, but we don’t seem to be going there.

Susan is — an editor. Who works for an agenting firm, and who obviously comes from money, because — that flat! And — she’s an editor. She reads client manuscripts curled up in a pretend comfy chair, and at the dining room table. In all of that flat there is no office.

Second episode penciled in for this evening.

Other than that, I have a List, and I’d better get to work.

What’s everybody doing today?

A Mischief of Magpies

Monday. Sunny and chill.

Breakfast was a tomato sandwich on toasted cheese bread and red grapes. Still drinking my first cup of tea. Lunch is — I have leftovers to choose from; no need to be hasty.

So, I didn’t get to the Magpie Murders last night; I sat down to read “a few pages” of Salvage Right — have you guys read this? It’s good. — to refresh myself before I go too far down an interesting idea-road for the next book I need to write. Maybe tonight.

Today’s chores include one’s duty to the cats, a visit to the chiropractor, the post office, and the grocery store — I ran out of milk; this never happens. And I don’t seem to have any just plain ol’ all-purpose flour, so that can’t stand, and yanno? Flowers might be nice. Haven’t had flowers in the house for a bit.

I’ll also be staging the trash in the garage for tomorrow’s journey to the curb. And, since I never got ’round to it yesterday, cleaning up my computer desktop and making backups for transfer to the new computer, when it arrives.

The weatherbeans are talking snow on Thursday, which isn’t the best timing in the world, and that event would seem to be Winter’s Clarion Call, because, after, temps are apparently going to move sharply downward, and keep sliding.

. . .and that’s about all I’ve got to say for myself this morning. The cats are trying out the various sunspots, and Trooper is explaining . . . something to me. Probably the cure for cancer. When are we getting that translation program?

Everybody have a good day.

Here, have some music. “The Thieving Magpie Overture,” Rossini, Utah Youth Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Barbara Scowcroft