Look at the stars; look how they shine for you

Thursday. Sunny and pleasantly breezy. Weatherbeans calling for a high of 64F/18C. And there was much rejoicing. The cooling units are OFF, the windows are OPEN.

Breakfast was leftover pierogi. This finishes the bag. Lunch is uncertain as of this moment, because my math was off, or I was hungrier than I had anticipated, but I need to Consider My Options, a task for which I am uniquely unsuited.

Before I get to that, though, I’m onboard for changing out the cat boxes, and vacuuming the basement. Following that, I have two unexpected errands to run, to which I either will or will not add a swing by a grocery store, pending the results of Considered Options.

I slept late, though not, so the Garmin Watch tells me, well. The Garmin is quite worried about me; low sleep and high stress triggers its protective instincts, poor device. I told it I’ve had a lot on my mind, and that a change of scene, not to mention good sea air, will do me good. I’m not sure it believes me, which is fair enough, as I’m not sure I believe myself. One can only do one’s best, after all, even if entropy is winning.

What else? Ah. The Fey Duology — 200 preorders at Amazon this morning.

Baen will be publishing the ebook edition on June 1.

I note on D2D that Apple reports 30 preorders, BN 8, and Kobo 16. This despite BN reporting (same page, different column) that it has “delisted” the title, and Kobo as “publishing” the title. At the bottom of the long column of delists, I am told that the vendors accepting preorders are Apple and Smashwords.

Now you’re as confused as I am.

Thanks to everyone for your support of our work, and for your company as we navigate the unkempt paths of our bold new reality.

Does anyone else feel especially oppressed by the Stupidity, Cruelty, and Crassness? I feel, perhaps wrongly, that I could bear the entire world being set on its side, if the oppressors were at least, you know, more like Regency heroes — Suave, Intelligent, and Charming. No less cruel in their policies, certainly, but prettier to look at.

Well. My second cup of tea is gone, which means! the basement calls.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Jacob Collier.  Yes, it’s long, but it’s worth your time.

Here, have a picture of Rookie in the Window, to cleanse your palate:

We were never gonna get old

Fey Duology publication update!

The ebook is percolating through the system and should seen be available for preorder at all the usual vendors except Amazon. Don’t yell at me; there are Reasons, which mostly have to do with Amazon’s complete non-understanding of the concept of “rights reverted to the author.” The price for the ebook, including two dark fantasy novels under one cover will be $12. It will publish on June 1.

I will be talking to Baen next, to see if they’ll list the electronic omnibus in Pinbeam Book catalog on their site. Watch the skies.

There will be a trade paper edition…eventually. It will cost a whopping $35. Thirty-two-fifty goes to paper, distribution, and the bookstores’ piece of the action. I’m sorry it costs so much. I brought in a Well-regarded Consultant, but he couldn’t figure out how to bring the price down, either, though he did point out that the cover price on the two Baen hardcovers was $24.99 each.

The reason we have an “eventually” in the trade paper equation is that I’ve ordered a physical proof copy, because I’m Just That Picky, and the book will not go on sale until I’ve OK’d the proof.

. . . and that’s the news at 3:25.

Oh. Here’s a picture of the Well-regarded Consultant, consulting:

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The dishes are done, the contractor has been and gone, promising a quote rsn, I updated the Adventures in the Liaden Universe catalog page on pinbeambooks.com, and there was something else I was supposed to be doing, but I’m damned if I can remember what it was, which is MY message from the Universe to knock off for the day.

So! Knocking off for the day. *waves*

Everybody stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

This evening’s post brought to you by Southside Johnny, who I had never heard of until Steve introduced me to his music.  “It’s Been A Long Time” is a fair enough description of our life together… Money got made, baby; money got spent.  We were never gonna get old.

For a fee, I’m happy to be

Sunday. Grey and damp, but not snowing yet.

This morning while taking my shower, I learned that Joan Jett had covered “Dirty Deeds,” which, had I taken a Moment’s Thought, I would have said, “Of course she did,” but there we are.

I am, let it be known, Very Fond of “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap,” AC/DC, and here we find the fundamental problem with humankind. It’s a song about a hitman soliciting business, and assuring customer satisfaction through a variety of means. It is, in a word, a terrible song. And yet, yes — I do love it. Why do I love it?

Well. Beyond the fact that it is of course always a pleasure to hear someone who is happy in their work (I’m especially fond of the list at the very end of AC/DC’s version: “Concrete Shoes. Cyanide. Neckties. Contracts. High Mountains!”); it’s manic; and, so I choose to believe, meant to be a parody. Also, because it may remind me of home — gently raised as I was in a blue collar family in a violent, ugly, port city.

I also learned that I need to find a source for the particular fuzzy little balls that Rookie dotes on and then hides so effectively I can’t find any to throw for him, leading to Sadness of the Tiny, Abused Coon Cat variety.

And! I’ve also learned that my tea has brewed, and Firefly is waiting for me on the comfy chair.

What’s one of your favorite songs — and why?
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Had a lovely chat with Sean Hazlett for the Baen Free Radio Hour. We talked about Liaden Universe Constellation Six, Duainfey and Longeye, The Wire, and had a fine time.

Rook and Tali joined me for moral support, and even Google chimed in at one point, thinking, apparently, that I had asked it a question.

For the curious, it has not snowed, but the skies have opened several times to let St. Peter dump out his washtub.

I’m off for the rest of the day, I think.

Everybody stay safe.

Look at these guys; are they pros or what?

Today’s blog post title from, of course, AC/DC, “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

See how the mainsail sets

Tuesday. Partly cloudy and warm-ish. A good day for a ride, actually.

I’m just back from Bath, having come the Long Way Home, getting the car washed and picking up a Forbidden Sandwich at Subway, this in addition to the peppermint mocha and ricotta-cherry Danish I treated myself to at Cafe Creme after my doctor’s appointment, which?

Was a success of its kind. I got my levothyroxine dosage put back to where it’s been for the last decade or more, and I was given an A1C test (first time for everything, I guess), and scored a 4.5 of whatever it is they’re measuring, which they seemed happy with, and since there was no new medicine attached to whatever it is, I’m happy, too.

Also? No more doctor appointments and only one test on the time map until November. Unless Something Comes Up, which — fingers crossed.

As mentioned above, I came home via Rte 1 and 27, and was able to honor the Ancient Pact to sing along with “Sloop John B” when it popped up on the radio. I also tried to sing along with “Wild, Wild West,” but I really only remembered, “I love her eyes and her wild, wild hair,” which I sang with Verve.

I’m now going to tinker with my Remarks, remembering to eat my Forbidden Sandwich and to go to needlework.

What song(s) did you sing along with this morning?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Beach Boys, “Sloop John B

It’s been so long, eating and drinking and making merry

The Long Back Yard this morning.  Perhaps not obvious from the picture: It was snowing at the time.

OK. Thursday. Snowed about an inch this morning, just enough to freshen yesterday’s snow. Intermittently sunny — or cloudy, if you prefer it that way — at the moment.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with spinach and onions and cheese, with a biscuit and strawberry jam on the side. Lunch…I may go back to my original plan of ham and yam, because I’m not sure those chicken breasts are thawed, actually.

Wrote about 930 words this morning, concluding a scene that I really like — Yes, this is going to be a book totally comprised of Scenes I Like. Rookie and Tali kept me company in the office, while Firefly is keeping a Very Close Eye on the bedroom.

I’m getting ready to start a loaf of bread to rise, after which it’s PT homework, one’s duty the cats, and lunch, one way or the other.

Hope everybody’s having a good day.
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Yanno? “Wonderful Christmastime?” Paul McCartney, celebrating all the lovely, lovely things that “Only happen at this time of Year” And I am Up To Here with that.

First of all — it’s a real dud on the lyrics, but so are most Christmas songs, so I guess I can’t take points off for that. But honestly? Aren’t we all supposed to be together and sharing joy and magic all the time?

Why, why does it only “happen at this time of year?” Why is it not a lifestyle choice? What is it about cruelty that is so attractive that it gets 363ish days while Joy, Magic, and Fellow Feeling only get 2ish, and only if we’ve spent enough money?

Yes, I do feel better now. And the bread’s in to rise.
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OK…The bread is really good. I had wanted a dense, seedy loaf and this one delivers. I cut it in half — one piece for the freezer and the other to eat now. Ahem. Over the course of the next couple days.

In between It All, I seem to have written 2,320 words today, which is … a lot, as we count words around here. On the other hand, as Jen Sin today observed to Miri, Traders talk A Lot. The WIP entire is somewhere around 113,480 total words.

I will mention that I wrote that many words and STILL had time to fall down the rabbit hole of Mongolian Techno. Some years back now there had been a Mongolian metal rock band — HU? HUU? — and they were doing some interesting things, but Mongolian Techno? Who knew.

Tomorrow, I have Real Life Business I have to take care of first (Well. “First,” after clearing snow, so Sarah can get in and also picking up so she can do her thing) having successfully put it off for more than a week (procrastination; it’s not for sissies).

I did read some few pages of Agent of Change, and will probably read some more after the cats stop shouting at me to deliver them their Happy Hour. What’s really interesting, is that I can remember which bits Steve wrote, and which bits I wrote, and which bits Steve wrote and I changed. I don’t think — but will be testing the proposition — that I can do that with later books. But you never forget your first, amirite?

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. Watch out for windblown snow and ice on the roads.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Hu, from their 2019 Billboard hit, “Yuve Yuve Yu

Who’s the hunter, who’s the game?

View the pre-Sarah cat census here

Now, where were we?

Ah.

Friday.

Sarah has departed and the house is much cleaner. She reported that Firefly flirted with her to the point of offering chin to be rubbed, which is really new. Usually, Firefly booked to Steve’s office the minute the door opened for the cleaning person. Of course, that was when we had Trooper to stand between us and all invaders. Firefly had apparently settled on a soft approach to invaders (Trooper satisfied himself with Keeping A Close Eye). I did think I saw a memo come in regarding adopting Sarah, but any such Resolution needs to be unanimous, and I, at least, cannot sanction making Sarah’s cats into orphans.

Wrote a little, my intention is to write some more, but also to quit early and watch the first episode of Miss Scarlet.

After Sarah left us, I made hummus, and then I made some toast to so that I could properly sample what I had wrought — and yes I will be making that again. And when I do, I’ll be using the blender, because my food processor is just a little midgy thing, and not up to an entire can of chickpeas. Though it worked fine doing it in sections. Messy, but fine.

While I was in the kitchen, I made some cookies to address the catastrophe reported the other day.

Remaining on the to-do list, one’s duty to the cats, a brief walk, Part 2 of PT homework, eating lunch, and hitting the WIP again.

So! That’s the news from here.

What’s the news from there?
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Well. Knocking off for the day. Didn’t get much writing done — only about 700 new words, but I did a lot of plotting and staring into space.

On the RL front, I had apparently hit the Land’s End sale hard last year. I had no idea that I had this many mock-necks. OTOH, it’s winter, so — yay! mock t-necks FTW.

I forgot to mention that I did go out to meet ‘n greet the new town manager last night, but it turns out that many people wanted to do the same thing, the new guy having grown up in Waterville and graduated from the high school and all. Long story short, his fandom turned out in such numbers that there was no place for me to park, even if I’d been willing to walk from the other side of the Concourse, which — SPOILER — I was not. So I came home. Mayhap I will write a letter after he’s officially in his office.

I see in my email queue a short story galley to proof, news of a check having landed, which should be in my account on Monday, and — oh. The library wonders if I’d like to do an Author Event in February. That might be fun.

The post office mail hasn’t been delivered yet, which is making me slightly cranky, since there’s a parcel due in that really can’t just sit out in the mailbox and freeze overnight.

My Plan for Saturday and Sunday — tomorrow and the next day — is to write, as next week is Quite Complicated, and that’s before we get to the crack o’dawn double MRI next Saturday. If I don’t check in over the next couple of days, it’s because I’m working.

And on that note — everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Patty Smyth and Scandal, because I heard it yesterday as I was out and about, and it’s a decent song and Patty Smyth can really sing.  And I remember — yes, I do remember, the first time I saw the music video, and then trying to explain  — er, no — describe it to Steve.  WARNING:  If continuity errors bother you, don’t watch this video.  The Warrior

Saturday business with coon cats and yam

Business First: Amazon allows me to know that the paper edition of Civilized Behavior “is scheduled for release on 11/13/2025. On this date, your book’s detail page will become visible to readers to purchase your book on Amazon everywhere you have territory rights at 12:00 a.m. UTC.” This release is concurrent with the ebook release.

So, that‘s a thing.

Saturday. Dim and damp. Up at 6:15, breakfast bar and tea at the desk.

I hit a rough patch in the WIP, where I wobbled a bit. I removed two scenes, which has gotten me back on-course. The irony is that one of those was a touchstone scene that I started the book knowing I had to include. Proving yet again that writing is a Science.

Ahem.

Taking a break now to get myself some lunch — I’m thinking the yam, an onion, garlic, maybe a can of white potatoes, too (so I can have leftovers tomorrow, for breakfast, maybe, with an egg), sauteed, and cottage cheese on the side.

After, I’ll do my duty to the cats and get back with the WIP.

I hereby give myself permission to not finish the read-through today. Yes, I know that was The Plan, but it’s no sense bringin’ killin’ into it.

The cats have been Very Much Approving of me spending more time in Steve’s office, so that’s another thing. I’m enjoying having a dedicated writing, and only writing, computer, and a space that’s not cluttered with Business I Have To Get To, so this was actually a Good Move.

Last night, I worked late to get the first 200 pages read, then collapsed into bed after my dinner, and put Black Cat Jazz on ‘way low. All of the cats joined me and we just sorta zoned out and purred..

So, that’s what’s happening around here. What’s happening with you?

Believe in me, I’m with the High Command

What went before: 42% of new ramen shops close within the year; 72% close within three years.

Good heavens; I had no idea (1) how many people want to open noodle/ramen shops or (2) what the fail rate is.

Yes, I’m researching noodle shops for the WIP.

Because! You should write what you know.

Which means: Do your research.

Edited to add:  No, I’m not looking for stats; I’m looking for what you need in the kitchen.  The stats were just … there.

What went before: So, wrote a scene kind of like the scene I had in my head, about 1,180 words.

I have a couple of things to set up for the rest of the week, which is just chock full of fun. Book club early tomorrow afternoon — that’s fun. Mammogram at 8 am on Tuesday — not so much fun — and needlework tomorrow evening. They’re going to start charging me rent at the library.

Wednesday and Thursday are clear, and on Friday morning, I get to drive to Bath to visit my PCP. Could be worse, I guess. At least Bath is interesting, and I can reward myself for my patience by visiting the bakery, after.

Speaking of fun, I suddenly, and almost without warning, decided that I was done with low-stakes cozies for the moment and on the advice of a friend have taken on Shards of Earth by Adrian Tchaikovsky. So far, so good. It’s good to see what the Iloheen got up to in their retirement. And it’s good to be reminded that we/I don’t write ambitious books.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe; I’ll check in again tomorrow.

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Earlier that same Monday: So, I often listen to Alan Hunter on Classic Rewind on Sirius XM. He’s doing something interesting — send him your top ten favorite songs from the “Cassette Era” and he, or somebody, will tally them up and play the Most Favorite Top Ten of Everybody Everywhere sometime in October.

Of course, I don’t remember Alan’s email address, and he did allow as how this is the sort of list that changes daily, if not hourly, but it’s an interesting challenge of itself.

So! I Challenge You! List your Top Ten Songs from the so-called “Cassette Era of Rock and Roll” (late 1970s-early 1990s) as of — Right Now.

Go.

My Top Ten before I finish my first cup of tea are (in no particular order, because that would be TOO crazy):
1 Silent Running, Mike and the Mechanics
2 Don’t Pay the Ferryman, Chris de Burgh
3 Werewolves of London, Warren Zevon
4 Don’t Fear the Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult
5 Under Pressure, Queen/Bowie
6 Burn with Me, Modern English
7 Missionary Man, The Eurythmics
8 Be Good to Me, Tina Turner
9 Sultans of Swing, Dire Straits
10 Beast of Burden, Rolling Stones

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Reading over a section I wrote a couple days ago. Made note: “Korval pilots do not SCURRY.” Sheesh. Who writes this stuff?

So, Monday. Sunny and pleasant. Been doodling around with mini-projects. Getting my needles ready for the next project. Making a pot of rice, doing some business correspondence. Need to go downstairs and clean the cat boxes in a few. Book Club at 1.

Last night, after I quit for the day, I sat down and handwrote another two pages. I really need to sit down, seriously, with the chapter-by-chapter and make a list of What’s Missing, ’cause I could write Good Scenes until the Heat Death of the Universe. Still looking at that title. It may have to do.

I keep forgetting to mention for the edification of Rookie’s Fan Club — for all his obvious charms, and they are many, Rookie has not really been very chatty. Given that he’s a Maine Coon, that made him practically silent. As a kitten, his purr was so loud, it sometimes knocked him over, which was — no, we don’t laugh at our kittens. We tell them they’re Very Special to have Thought of That. Now that he’s a Big Cat, though, his purr is extremely soft and puffy, and while I have once or twice heard him yell in frustration, his vocalizations were mostly quiet, and directed to the other cats.

That has changed, since, I’ll say, since Trooper left us. Rook has taken to meeping at me, making eye contact and Stating A Thing.  He’s still much more quiet-spoken than Trooper, or even Sprite, who spoke softly, but with Great Clarity — but he’s talking, and he clearly means to communicate. So, yanno, that’s exciting.

The kid’s still growing.

I don’t think I have anything else to report. As said, I’ve got a few chores to do before I head off for book club, but it’s not really a very crowded looking day.

How’s your Monday shaping up?

Today’s blog post title from Mike and the Mechanics, “Silent Running,” because how could I not?

Also, cat tax.  Tali is getting bold:

I’ll find out, when I get there

Friday early in the morning: Ducking in real quick to answer the morning’s most frequent questions.

The name of the character is Zigfrid, and she has a problem. What a surprise.

The caricatures of Steve and me hanging on the wall in one of the photos I posted yesterday are by Howard Taylor, creator of Schlock Mercenary. They were done at Denvention, the 66th World Science Fiction Convention, in Denver.

In that same photo, Rookie is not scared or angry. His tail is always like that.

And! Not a question, but an observation. I’ve been listening to Black Cats (soft) Jazz on Youtube, and like it very much. The cats don’t seem to like jazz, but I’m hoping it’ll grow on them, acknowledging that jazz is, like a Certain Professor, an Acquired Taste. Steve, for instance, loved him some blues, gypsy jazz, and fusion, most of which does not work for me.

All that said — onward! I’ll check back in, post-flu-shot.

Friday, post-flu-shot: Well. That was . . . an adventure.

An adventure, yes.

So, while I was getting my flu shot, I asked the nice young pharmacist when I could get reboosted on the COVID vaccine, the last booster I had being March. He kind of looked at the ceiling and said, kind of apologetic, “Well, see, the CDC isn’t making recommendations any more.” “Yes,” I said, “but aside that.” Weeeelllll, aside that, they don’t have, that is, they just can’t give, or well, actually — I need a prescription from my doctor stating that it is “medically necessary. “Otherwise,” said the pharmacist, “I’d give you one today. It’s been six months. I’m sorry; it’s really inconvenient.”

Well, no. I mean, yes, it is inconvenient, but they’re going to kill people. Already have killed people. And are So. Very. Proud. of Themselves.

I HATE this timeline.

I did some grocery shopping after getting my shot, and STILL there was no candied ginger on the shelf, so after I finished my business with Uncle Hannaford, I went down to Uncle Dean’s, and had my choice of several bags on the shelf. Which is why we need a natural market in town.

I’m home now, and everything put away. Next up is sitting down with some ice on my back and reading a chapter of my book, then! Lunch, and then?

To work.

Today’s blog post title from Tom Petty, “Learning to Fly.

Cat pics and embroidery project The Next:

I travel the world and the seven seas

Business first: If you have read a Liaden novel or short story collection, or, heck, a Carousel book or short story collection, please consider leaving a review on the bookselling site of your choice.

Thank you.

What went before ONE: Chores done, including remaking the bed with nice clean sheets, that may help me sleep tonight. I have regretfully had to close the windows, because there is not a breath of air moving outside and it was 85F/29C in my office, which is — too warm.

Wordle has also been solved, so! I guess it’s time to find something to eat for lunch, so I can go to work.

What went before TWO: I cleared off half of the top of the supply dresser, so Rook and Tali can use the side window. Not that any of these cats are spoiled.

What went before THREE: Hey, it’s raining. We really need rain.

I? Am not done inputting the correx, but I’ve come to a picky bit, and I’m tired, so instead of pushing myself to frustration — knocking off now; early-ish to bed, and tomorrow’s a new day.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

What went before FOUR:  I think they’re trying to tell me something:

Monday, and it’s a Beautiful Morning. I have opened every window in this house that opens. Sirius XM popup channel 80s ChillPill is my morning entertainment, currently listening to “Sweet Dreams” from the Eurythmics.

I had a lovely, long sleep, despite which the day started . . . awkwardly.

As has become the habit, I got up and immediately gave Trooper his gravy-and-meds and got dressed while he was chowing down. Came out to the kitchen with the intention of making scrambled eggs with Inclusions, followed by Trooper who was screaming his head off, despite having just eaten. I applied snuggles; that wasn’t it. I offered dry food, which is never it, anymore, but I was starving and really needed to eat. Yelling continued to a point where I actually couldn’t think, and when you can’t think to scramble eggs, you’re in a bad spot.

I put Trooper, and Rook, for company, into the bathroom, closed the door, and went back to the kitchen to make my own breakfast. Got the Inclusions into the frying pan. Reached for the salt grinder, and?

The base fell off. Salt everywhere. I mean, yeah, thank ghu it was salt and not, oh, molasses, but yikes! I finished making breakfast, let Trooper and Rook out of the bathroom, ate breakfast, opened a can of gooshy food for Trooper, who at least licked the gravy, and cleaned up the salt. I don’t have any more coarse salt to pour into the Oxo grinder, and anyhow the Oxo grinder and I need to have A Talk . . . and — sigh. OK, guys, the Eurythmics was great, and Whitney Houston I can tolerate, but I draw the line at Peter Cetera. I guess the 80s were a mixed bag.

Where was I? Oh, Come to Jesus with the Oxo Salt Grinder. I do have a McCormick disposable grinder full of salt, so that’s what I’m playing with now.

Recapping: The salt has been cleaned up, Trooper has had his second breakfast and is in his box on my desk, sleeping. Junior Grade Cats are distributed in various windows. I need to stage the trash, perform my duty to the cats, do the bookkeeping I’ve been avoiding, write a letter, make a call for my annual eye appointment, and then? I can write.

How did your Monday start out?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by the Eurythmics, “Sweet Dreams