out and about – Sharon Lee, Writer

Tuesday afternoon

Um. Tuesday. Sunny and chilly.

This morning, I worked on what I’m calling “Call to Judgment,” the outtake/side-story that was excised from Kin Right.

I’m home from my last session of PT. I’m pronounced stable, skilled in recovery, and strong. I am to continue my homework, which I have So. Much. PT homework that it qualifies as a part-time job.

This evening is needlework, and tomorrow morning I have a haircut/trim/shaping/whatever, and then I expect to get back with Jethri.

What’s occupying your time today?

Visual evidence of dandelion fluff hair with supporting coon cats:

Dandelion fluff:

Firefly:

Rook:

I went to the Regal Cinema in Augusta to see Wicker. I fear that going to the Regal Cinema is not a cheap date. Between the tickets and a medium Pepsi (which, to be fair, was dern near a gallon of Pepsi), I spent $25. I’d planned on getting popcorn, but I couldn’t afford it. I believe I will not be returning to the Regal Cinema in Augusta, no matter how much I want to see a movie now.

Wicker itself was … other than I had anticipated. When something is billed as a “comedy,” certain expectations arise. There were some funny bits, but Wicker is not, IMHO, a comedy, and had I had a clearer knowledge of what it actually is, I would probably have waited until it wandered 20 miles north to a cheaper venue.

The movie wanted to talk about the patriarchy, how one person’s unhappiness in a close-knit society can poison an entire village, how kindness is so little valued, how crippling is unkindness; and how simple love actually is.

These are worthy topics, and if I thought some of the roles were a little broad, it does well to recall that (1) the movie is based on a literary short story, and (2) I’m a genre writer, and Fantasy isn’t a Teaching Tool for me; it’s real.

That said, I’m not at all unhappy that I saw the movie. Aside from the fact that you could do worse of an afternoon than see Wicker for the story alone, Peter Dinklage was, well, Peter Dinklage, which I’ve always found to be worth the price of admission; Alexander Skarsgard as the Wicker Husband, and Olivia Colman as Fisherwoman are adorable, and the chemistry between them is terrific.

I stopped at the Rusty Lantern on my way home for a slice of hot pizza for supper, and now? It’s time to have another glass of wine and read a chapter or two before bed.

Errands to run and new shoes, too

Um. Thursday. Yes. Kind of a surly autumnal morning going on outside. Chilly, and the day’s projected high has been downgraded from the mid-60sF to the high-ish 50sF.

It turns out that I? Need to run some errands, and, that I have PT at 1:00. So, I’ll be going out after I finish this note to accomplish errands, swing back to the house to put the groceries away, and then go out again to PT.

I don’t think anything amazing, or even noteworthy, is going on here at the Confusion Factory. Well, Rookie wants me to throw his ball, but he won’t let it — well, there. He has let it go and knocked it under a bookshelf. How … catlike.

Oh. I should also see if Wicker will be playing anywhere … hang on. Pfui. Apparently we here in Central Maine will not be joining in the Limited Release and will need to wait until … November? Really. Ah, well. Something to look forward to.

Oh, and I have a new pair of shoes, or, actually, ankle boots. I decided that the nice, gooshy tenners the podiatrist thinks are the bee’s knees are an active danger to my balance, feeling, as they do, as if I have pillows strapped to my feet, and, yanno? Screw that. I have purchased a nice pair of flat-soled leather ankle boots, and already I feel more stable. Non-compliance are us. (Link to shoes, for those interested.)

And I really do think that’s all the news.

Who’s having an Exciting Thursday?

Lazy afternoon, with wine and dragon

Well. That was fun, actually.

I fear I bought a dragon.

And a mini rosemary sourdough loaf.

And soap (lavender honey oat).

And pocket warmers.

And a catnip-stuffed tarot card (“The Moon”) for the cats to fight over.

Also, I wrote a poem.

And now I want to sit on the deck with a nice glass of red wine.

Which is what I believe I will do.

Behold, the water dragon.

For those keeping track at home, according to the Chinese zodiac I am a water dragon.

I needed money ’cause I had none

Friday. Though Google swears otherwise, it’s raining. No, really. It is. I don’t say that it won’t quit raining, later, and the day star emerge from its cloudy boudoir to burn off the fog, but right now, it’s raining.

I have an invitation from Boskone to attend as a panelist in February, which I’ve been angsting over for the last week, trying to pummel myself into going and — I just can’t. I mean, I went down to Baltimore, because Steve would have had it so. BaltiCon after all had been our home con, not to mention that I personally owed a life-debt. But the thought of packing for a con, traveling, and arriving in order to perform inadequately on panels — even doing a reading, and I love to read to people — makes me want to simultaneously curl up into a ball and scream.

So, I’m guessing that answers that, and I had best just send my regrets.

Sarah will be by in an hour to clean. I fully expect to finish my in-depth reading of the first half of the WIP this morning and begin making Adjustments to the file. I’ve decided to pull the questionable sections for now and just concentrate on the main line, since that’s what I know, and keep on writing until I either reach the end of what I know, or the end of the book. Then I can piece in these other things. And it certainly won’t be the first time I/we built a book that way.

I am still planning to go to the Block Party this evening. I figure to go downtown earlyish, get a desert at Holy Cannoli and dawdle over a book until the festivities begin.

I had almost forgotten that today is the start of a Long Weekend, freelancers not always indulging in Long Weekends.

Who has plans?

And, once more, “I Fought the Law,” this time from the Bobby Fuller Four.

Thursday pre-movie

Proof of life photos here

Taking a smol break to rest my brain, and do PT homework.

So, I have a ticket to see “Frozen” (the play) at the Waterville Opera House in November. Still waffling on the Tommy Dorsey Christmas concert.

I think I have A Plan for being able to attend tomorrow afternoon’s block party (read park) downtown.

The play I saw on Sunday was called “Unabashedly” which was appearing for the first time anywhere, ever, in Waterville, Maine. Someone asked if I had liked the play, and! I’m not sure? I was confused at first when we’re introduced to two men who are living together, and for most of the play I thought they were a couple. This was kind of a good thing because it looked like the play was going in the direction of one of those two men — Dave, coincidentally an alcoholic, sober for 6 months — falling in love with a newly hired (female) coworker, and I was interested in if we were going to be talking about one of the established couple being bi and how the three of them were going to resolve their feelings. Turns out that the two guys weren’t gay, only friends.

The play was being sold on the “relatable characters.” Having once been vilified over a matter of days regarding my lack of empathy for Thomas Covenant, I admit freely that I know nothing about which characters are “relatable,” “true,” or “realistic.” I was, personally, annoyed by the characters in the play. Yes, all of them. But that is, I hasten to assure everyone, Just Me.

I also know nothing about plays, which often seem to me to be leaving most of the story out. So speaks the novelist.

That said, I thought this one was a bit thin, even by the rules of its own genre. About three-quarters through the first act, I actually thought I was just going to leave, though I did decide stay to the end, and I left feeling good. I felt good because the play had delivered a Happy Ending, which is always satisfying, even when the Happy Ending is a cliche, and you could see it coming a mile away, after you got unconfused about the relationship of the two initial characters.

So — more than you wanted to know about did I like the play.

I am looking forward to seeing “Coyote v Acme” this afternoon, but before that!

I need to do some more work.

What are you looking forward to, today?

Friday morning 8am

So, FB is accessible this morning to the desktop through Ungoogled Chrome.

It is, for the record, Friday, sunny and cool, with the ‘beans calling a high on the day that falls well short of 80F.

I have Stuff to do today, and the boys in the basement need a day off. Also, if I’m reading the note on the torn-off corner of the potato chip bag right, more beer. Lucky for them, today’s Stuff includes a grocery run.

Last week, I guess it was, I was talking with the visiting nurse — same guy whose been here four out of the last five years, and at one point he said something along the lines of, “But you didn’t have a plain vanilla husband. Some of these guys . . .” and he let it drift off. And a week later, I’m still struggling with this, like I’m still, occasionally, struggling with something another guy said to me, a decade or so ago, now, I guess. He was telling me about his first marriage and how it ended, and how his second marriage started, and where it might be going. He was thinking about moving south, come retirement, and his wife had agreed, only he had lately come to understand that “south” to her was Portland, and not South Carolina. And he said something along the lines of, “Well, I guess we could call an end,” and I probably frowned at him, because he said, “No, look. It’s not like we have anything as tight as you guys have. It’s just . . . convenient.”

Now, I happen to think that I’ve been lucky in love, and in most of my life, but I also like to think that I — that we — weren’t the exception to some kind of universal order, stipulating, as we must, that love — and luck — is idiosyncratic. So, those two little stories — they bother me.

Well.

Who else is doing errands today?

Sleepy Tuesday

Tuesday. Sunny and warm. I’m exhausted, which has been a Running Theme since my last bad back episode. I’m really not sleeping well, and I recently recalled that, one of the gifts that Steve gave me was the ability to sleep. Before I met him, I slept, eh, maybe four hours a night? Because there was too much to be afraid of, and nobody to share the watch with me. Apparently, I’m reverting to type.

Well. that’s lowering.

One thousand six hundred and thirty-ish new words this morning, which brings the WIP to 41,900 words, total, which seems slightly surreal, but — onward.

The garbage truck just went by, so I’m for getting the recycling bin back to the garage, then doing my expanded duty to the cats, and — lunch.

Needlework this afternoon at the library, and I decided that, indeed I do need to be a member of Waterville Creates. I let the membership drop when Steve died, figuring it was an extraneous expense, but — apparently not. Which means that, while I’m downtown this afternoon, I need to drop by the Arts Center to pick up my membership packet.

I also remembered why “Coyote vs Acme” seemed so familiar to me — ‘way back in 2022 or so, there’d been word of this movie on the make, and in 2023, Warner Brothers decided the film would make them more money by being a Tax Break, and shelved it. The film makers went to war and only now, three years later, has WB allowed them the right to put the film into limited distribution. I remember saying to Steve at the time news of the Tax Break came down, “Are they nuts? That thing’s gonna earn the asking price on the next solar system.”

Sigh.

Hope everyone’s doing well on this fine Tuesday in August.

Friday excursions

So I was slightly confushed. This morning’s tour was of Messalonskee Lake aka Snow Pond. No sand cranes sighted this trip, but lots of loons, some terns, and a few eagles.

Always nice to be on the water. Cap’n Gary was very knowledgeable about the lake, the history, and the famous people who live on the shore. Three hours may have been a tad too long, but I couldn’t say I was bored at any point.

Photos here

I have also been to the library, the car wash, and the gas station. I need to do my duty to the cats, and then I b’lieve I shall try making one of these blueberry smoothie things.

How’s everybody doing today?

Thursday on the move

Woke up early — too early — after a not-very-good night’s sleep. Honestly, it was more like I decided to give up pretending to sleep than anything like “waking up.”

Wrote 1,100ish words bringing the WIP to 34,530. I’m getting very close to the point where we leave Sactizzy behind us, and I’m going to have to sit down and Plot, which likely means the word count will come way down, way fast. Still, it’s kind of nice to have written a full third of a novel in eight weeks — no, wait. Six weeks, taking ten days off by reason of backache.

Speaking of backaches, a kind friend ordered me a heated mattress pad, which was delivered today. Now I’ll be able to keep my back reliably warm when it hurts. And I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during the winter, too.

I had a haircut scheduled for the afternoon. Why, you ask? This is why:

While I was out, I donated used batteries to the jar at Holy Cannoli and stopped at the grocery store for milk and grapes.

Here’s the after-haircut picture:

And a picture of the WherethehellyouBEEN Committee, which had convened in my absence. Or because of my absence:

It’s supposed to rain this evening, though not tomorrow, so I’m holding out hope that the nature cruise will come off tomorrow morning without a hitch, and that will be an Official Writer’s Day Off. If the captain has better weather information than I do and the cruise is cancelled, then Saturday will be a Writer’s Day Off and I’ll go to the gem show in Belfast.

The glamor!

For now? I’m going to have an early glass of wine and curl up with a book until it’s time to serve up Happy Hour.