Tag: reading

The wheel in the sky keeps on turning

What went before ONE: And back from dancing. I was the New Kid. It was interesting and everyone was good-natured and very kind. I may have been the only one in the room who had never had theater or dance in my background, and I include the two Littles who were part of our group.

I notice a cross-over between ASL and some of the “body-speak” going on in dance. I suppose if I pursue it, I’ll have yet another physical language under my belt.

I got to interact, very briefly, with the bowli ball’s older, bigger, and more sullen brother. It was too big and goopy to perform the antics of an actual bowli ball. Instead of a gyroscope heart, it had a — what? bag of mud — that made for interesting shifts of velocity, weight, and … squishiness. Not good for tournament play, but an interesting item nonetheless.

After class, I went down Main Street a bit, stopped at Incense and Peppermints to see what they’re doing with the increased space, then Smitty’s Book Cellar to introduce myself and give out a couple cards.

I grabbed some pretzels when I got in, but I think that’s not quite lunch, so a salad it is.

The temperature has cracked 60F/16C; still cloudy and mizzling, off and on.

I hear through the dance class that next Saturday is World Tai Chi Day. Who’s participating?

What went before TWO: 830ish new words, which means! The WIP has cracked 30,000! +/-30,250. Pretty good for a day when I thought I wouldn’t be writing.

Defrosting some Smithfield boneless pork chops for tomorrow’s making-ahead, and also lunch.

The cats have had Happy Hour and Trooper wished to Take Exception to my coming back to the keyboard to finish the scene, so we had to have That Discussion again — the one that makes no sense? About how the clackity-clack on the keys makes cat food? Yeah, that one. He did lay down and go to sleep though, and I finished my scene. So there is that.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Intermittently cloudy and not. Breezy with gusts. Weatherbeans have put out a fire caution; calling for a high temp of 50F/10C. It rained on the overnight.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs with potato and onion, and a side of toast with blueberry-ginger jam, which was actually a bigger breakfast than I usually indulge in, so lunch plans may be adjusted accordingly.

This is Easter Sunday for those who celebrate. When Steve and I first got together, we celebrated by going to BaltiCon. Afteryears, Easter usually snuck up on us. We had the Convention Calendar in our heads and could mostly tell you which cons were on any given weekend, but Easter? Eh–a moveable lay (i.e. non-SF) feast that didn’t have much to do with us.

For those who are interested in cat placement, Trooper is at the moment sitting upright on my lap, purring, and making it easy for me to type. Rook is sprawled at the end of the desk, apparently chewing on the philosophical conversation we had this morning, when he found Tali already in my lap when he wanted to be there. How is it possible that I love him for being The Best Rookie AND Tali for being The Best Tali? This wants Thinking Over.

Second cup of tea brewing.

After I finish my morning letter to the internets, I have some stuff to do downstairs, and then I intend to catch up on all those things I failed to do last week by reason, I guess, of doing other things instead. And do my first pass through the ASL homework.

Directing my gaze into next week — there’s another movie-and-learned-discourse on Monday night; the movie is “Brick.” I may or may not attend. The movie looks interesting, but I have a limited capacity for leaned discourse on the Metaphors of Violence in Cinema.

On Wednesday, my new washer-and-dryer will be delivered, and the sales rep directed me to save up my dirty clothes and start washing the minute the delivery van cleared the driveway, because there’s a 48-hour, if-it’s-wrong-we’ll-make-it-right-today LG policy IF the wrong is reported within 48 hours. So! Laundry Party at Rolanni’s House! Bring snacks.

Thursday evening is of course ASL class. Before that is the Return of the Pest Control Guy, who will be replacing the things he knocked down during his inspection two weeks ago.

I have started reading The Savage, Noble Death of Babs Dionne (by Ron Currie, a Maine author) and in-between am re-reading Sea Wrack and Changewind (by Sharon Lee, another Maine author). Not sure why I got started on that, except it was at my place when I sat down to eat lunch a couple days ago, and one must read something.

My redecorated office door looks very nice in the sunshine. Very glad I decided to take that on.

And that? Is what’s doing at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s doing at your place?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Journey, “Wheel in the Sky”

Cat census and redecorated office door:

Accomplishments in Housekeeping

What went before: I put privacy film on the window in the door that opens onto the deck from my office, and also on the front bathroom window, replacing old film that was tired and curling at the corners.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday. Cloudy and damp. The ‘beans are calling for a high temp of 72F/22C, so apparently spring is going to come in like a fire sprite.

Breakfast was rice crackers and cream cheese, with a side of strawberries. Second mug of tea to hand. Lunch will likely be a salad, but — we’ll see.

I Inspected yesterday’s work and still find it good. I have Corresponded with Balticon. I’m still for dancing, which is a Who are you and what have you done with Sharon Lee? moment, but, hey.

I last night finished Check and Mate (YA), which I — had problems with, and almost metaphorically threw it against the wall Chapter 23ish. I wound up skipping a few chapters and reading the end, which I still had problems with. I have also read by the same author a sample of The Love Hypothesis, which is one of her adult novels, and I have the Exact Same Problems with it, so clearly this author’s books are not My Sort. This is not a denigration of her legions of fans, or indeed of her; it is a statement of personal preference — thank you for understanding the difference between the two.

Insofar as Check and Mate, and the question of is the Chess World accurately portrayed, as I said, and as far as I know — yes. The author herself says that she had to take liberties and invent shortcuts, in order to make a process that in Real Life would be years of slow effort, in order to fit it inside of a short novel that people would actually want to read.

And I think that’s all that’s shakin’ here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory at the moment. As you can see from the previous post on my wall, the cats are anti-shake.

What’s the weather where you are today?

Livin’ on rock ‘n roll music

What went before ONE:  And! Finished reading. My text for today was Accepting the Lance.

I now want to sleep for five days, but that’s not going to happen, so instead I will open the SFWA past president survey that I foolishly agreed to answer, right after I serve Happy Hour.

I’m looking at my weekly Get These Things Done calendar, and, yeah — MAYbeeee…Friday?

Everybody stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

What went before TWO:  Wow. Started to work for SFWA as first! full! time! executive director in 1997; elected vice president in 2001; president in 2002.

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Thursday. Sunny and warmish. House has been picked up for Ashley.

I am a tired woman, part X of a continuing series.

Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries, because I’m tired, and it was there. Lunch will be, um? Oh. Turkey fillets defrosting in the fridge; they may be ready. If not, there’s still that yam the affections of which I’ve been toying with for a week.

Tonight is ASL class — first of the second semester. I do not feel prepared, ref “tired” above, but, yanno — onward.

One of the things I suspect of contributing to feeling tired is that some people are reading Diviner’s Bow and have Just! Learned! through the magic of reading the back flap of the hardcover, that Steve has died. Some are writing to express their condolences, which is very nice of them, but the weight of other people’s emotions is exhausting.

I’ve got an expanding file of stuff that I need to go through, and throw away the things I no longer need, so I’ll be doing that while Ashley’s here.

I’m probably not going to get any new writing done today, though I do have two handwritten scenes I should transcribe. My handwriting’s not so bad as my shorthand — reading cold shorthand is a real challenge, just one down from trying to read somebody else’s shorthand — but I really should type it before I forget what on earth I was thinking.

It’s not supposed to rain today, so I might just take the throw rugs outside and hang them over the deck railing to get some fresh air and sunshine.

I’m reading Check and Mate, which is set in the World of Chess, book provided by a kind friend who wanted to know how accurate the representation of said Chess World is. So far — I’m about halfway through — and it seems pretty accurate to me, remembering that all of my “familiarity” with said World came at second and third hand. Certainly, the misogyny is accurate; Steve kept trying to recruit girls/women to his chess club down in Maryland, but it remained a guys-only environment. The passion is also accurate — yes, you can Win! Big! Money! playing chess, but like, oh, writing, or tournament golf, or other endeavor where passion is a necessary component to even minor success — the return is far, far less for most than the investment. All that said, it was a minor shock to see Judith Polgar mentioned, as I knew somebody who knew somebody who knew the Polgar sisters. OTOH, they certainly belong in a book discussing the Chess World and the limited access thereto.

FWIW, Steve threw a guy out of a tournament for wearing a tshirt that said, “Woman chess player is an oxymoron.” So there was that.

And that’s what I’ve got this morning.

What’ve you got this morning?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Boston, “Rock & Roll Band”

Oh. For those wondering what in heaven’s name the woman was *doing* yesterday, that would be this:

An’ I don’t give a damn ’bout my bad reputation

What went before: OK, then. I’m shutting down the internet for the rest of the day, good people. I am quite apparently at the end of my rope.

Also, yes, there are typos in all of our books. As there are no perfect humans, there are no perfect books. We do our best.

Everybody have a good rest of the day. Feel free to hang out. Drinks are in the fridge; snacks in the cabinet over the sink.

Sunday. Cloudy and — I’m not sure what it’s doing out there. Precipitating. Looks thick — ah, there we are. The garage roof tells the tale — sleet, snow, and rain. What fun.

Breakfast was PB&J on an English muffin. Finishing up my first mug of tea. Lunch can go hang itself. Oh, wait. Mac ‘n cheese with a meatball cut up in it. A little light on veggies, but if we’re in Rebellion against the Tyranny of Food, any food counts.

Towels are washing. I need to change the tablecloth today. Otherwise, I have another scene to hand-draft, and I need to at least look at the ASL homework. In and around one’s duty to the cats, of course.

I did draft a substantial scene yesterday, which I’m very pleased with. Also Had A Notion, and Made A Note. Will consider that further today.

Other than that, yesterday was . . . not very pleasant. It’s lowering to realize that, at — counts on fingers — 72, I’m still so inept at people. You’d think I’d’ve learned something. Well — scary thought — I probably did learn something. Just not enough. And of course I no longer have an Emotional Support Steve, and while the cats do their best, cats are, umm. Yeah. “Rend” and “nap” are good coping mechanisms, honestly. But there’s a vast middle ground that “run” doesn’t completely address.

Speaking of cats, Trooper has two days in a row refused to eat the gravy with meds in it. He’s still eating food, except when he forgets where the food bowls are, and last night, for the first time in a long time, he engaged with the red dot, and chased it all over the living room until he he lost interest, or energy, and let the kids have at it. He sleeps a lot (yes, yes; he’s a cat, but still), and yells at me at lot when he’s awake, but I don’t know why. I don’t think he’s in pain (ref “cat”), but nothing I do, or don’t do, seems to be It. So, that continues to be worrisome, and I’ll be having a chat with the vet this week.

The book club is going to start up again in mid-May, now that people are coming back from overwintering in the warm worlds. Our first book is The Savage Noble Death of Babs Dionne, by Ron Currie, and I’ve gotten that onto my tablet to read.

I finished The Dangerous Duke last night, and started Check and Mate; …Babs Dionne and The Mysterious Marquis are on deck.

And I think that’s it from the Cat Farm this morning.

What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Ms Joan Jett, “Bad Reputation” — the referenced video is also a history lesson, for those who are interested in the creative process, thinking outside the box, and believing in yourself.

Sunny Thursday

BUSINESS FIRST!  Diviner’s Bow by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, the 27th novel set in the Liaden Universe® of their own devising (ignore Amazon; it doesn’t know how to count) premiers at #13 on the Bookscan new release bestseller list!

We couldn’t have done it without you, so! Give yourselves a hand!

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What went before ONE: The snow is melting nicely, and I’ve sketched in the beginning of a scene, and washed my robe, which may need to get washed again, considering the amount of cat fur still clinging to it. On the other hand, fur is warm amirite?

I was listening to the Spectrum Channel on Sirius, and the host was discussing the new crop of artists who are up for inclusion in the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame, which is one of Sirius’ Big Things. This year INXS is on the list (I mean, why isn’t INXS already in the Hall of Fame?), and the host, who is not someone who goes out of her way to speak ill of people, mentioned that she was pleased with the inclusion of INXS, and then said, “You know, I do try to separate the art from the artist — in my business, you sort of have to — but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Neil Gallagher of Oasis, for his acceptance speech. You remember the one — Mike Hutchence (of INXS) was giving the award and Gallagher, in his speech said, “Has-beens shouldn’t be giving out [fucking] awards to gonna-bes.” That, said mine host, and she wasn’t wrong, was cruel. It was, in fact, ungracious, and then, she added, “A year later Mike Hutchence was gone, so I hope Neil Gallagher felt good about that. Anyway! Here’s INXS — ”

Wow.

So! I guess I’d better empty the dishwasher and start warming up my soup for lunch.

How’s everybody doing at the half-way mark on the day?

What went before ONE-point-FIVE: Just thinking about the acceptance speech thing, and — I’m going to be giving an acceptance speech in a little over a month.

Mine’s better than Noel Gallagher’s.

Just sayin’.

What went before TWO: I’m not really sure what I got done today. Bits of this and pieces of that.

Got some correx entered — oh. I had to rewrite a scene to make it plain that Val Con’s being sneaky, for those who may have forgotten his core values.

Spent some time looking for something that I never did find. I hate that. And now I need to practice my speech again (trying to do this long enough so that it’s more or less committed to memory by the time I actually have to stand up on a stage and speak), and do some ASL review. I’m of the opinion that the days aren’t long enough, because it can’t be that I’m wasting time. Sigh.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

#

Let’s see. Thursday. Sunny and bound for warm. Last class of ASL Session One this evening.

Breakfast was potatoes fried with onions, cottage cheese, and grapes. Lunch will likely be a fish sandwich.

ASL review this morning. There’s a load of laundry washing, because the basket was full and it offendeth me.

I have more correx to input, and some more scenes to draft by hand, so it’s not like I lack for occupation.

So the book I’m reading is The Dreadful Duke, by Grace Burrowes, in which Our Hero is a sculptor. He’s been doing this for a long time, and as he was in the position of having to do art in exchange for money, he has worked long hours and demanded much of himself. When the story opens, the second thing we are told about the man is that his hands hurt. And this remains an undercurrent of the story, that one’s art may be beloved, but it will in the end break you.

This brought to you by, my hands hurt.

What’s everybody doing today that’s fun?

Below:  The Long Back Yard, this morning; obligatory cat pics

In which the harpoons are removed

Sunday. Raining, coolish.

Breakfast was salmon cake on multigrain whole wheat bread and the last orange. Lunch will be the chicken breast from the freezer, likely stir fried with rice and veggies.

Yesterday was a V. Quiet Day here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory. It did not snow, but it did kind of grumble and sleet and grumble some more, so a good day to be in the office comfy chair with a manuscript and cats scattered about, napping. I wrote 750ish new words yesterday, and I think I have the timeline going forward straight in my head at least, which where we need to start to keep in straight in your heads.

I took the hole-making titanium studs out of my ears yesterday — yes, three days early! Call me a rebel. This was a Rather Difficult Operation. For a minute or two there I thought they were going to be For Always. I did finally get them out, discovering that they’re nothing but little peace-bonded harpoons, which I will not be putting back in my ears, TYVM. I replaced the harpoons with my old and comfortable sterling silver studs, and in a couple days — or, who knows? this afternoon — I’ll put in a pair of “real” earrings and see how that feels.

I bought a new space heater for the bathroom. The ancient of same, circa 2005, will be swathed in plastic and go downstairs with the tower fans, against need.

I also bought a bread slicing guide, since I’m not getting any better at slicing straight pieces off the loaf. This one is notable for being made out of bamboo rather than plastic, has guides for two sizes of slice — East Coast Sandwich and Texas — and has a crumb catcher built in. I’m looking forward its arrival.

The Long Back Yard is Once! Again! snow free, and the snowdrops have doubled their numbers.

I slept short and bad Friday night, so was in bed early last night with my mug of chamomile tea, my book, and three cats — Firefly, who is really getting the hang of this reading in bed thing; Tali, who seems to think she remembers something like this, somewhere else; and Trooper, who clocked out by my knee and wasn’t heard from again. Rook obviously had first shift of night watch. This morning, he was solidly asleep against my back when I woke up.

Today, I’m back with the manuscript, and ASL homework. Dr. Bill at lifeprint.com delivers our homework and you, too, can watch his videos and learn Sign, does something that I really like. He reviews the lesson with an assistant drawn from the off-camera class, but he also hams it up, introduces words that are not in the lesson in his answers, and gives you the feeling of being immersed. The first two lessons, he stuck pretty close to the syllabus, but by lesson four, he’s apparently decided if we’ve stuck it this long, he can pick up the pace.

I will finish my re-read of Night’s Master … probably over lunch. Next book up is another Grace Burrowes, speaking of whiplash — the first in the Bad Heirs series, because I’m a sucker for a Bad Pun.

You are now All Caught Up.

What’s up with you guys?

Sunday morning cat census.

The red basket that Rook’s tucked into has a History.  Ten years ago, it was manuscript basket on my desk at the Cat Farm’s previous, country, location.  Sprite took it over as a cat basket.  Trooper then claimed it — the conflict that decided his precedence is what gave it that Interesting Bend.  I bought another box, ceding the first to cats, but then there were two boxes, so Belle claimed that one…Anyhoots when we moved, Steve took the red basket, put a towel in it, and announced it an Official Cat Place.  It was used by all of the cats while Steve was still working at his desk.  Rook now uses it, and sometimes Trooper.

Physician, have you nothing to ease the pain of living?

What went before: So, Northern Light Hospital in Waterville is trying to refer all its patients to Maine General. I know this because the office of a Maine General Spine Surgeon called me to tell me that I had been referred by someone I’d never heard of for neck pain. In the course of sorting that out, I actually spoke with someone at my PCP’s office, and she did confirm that, not only the hospital, but ALL the clinics, and specialty offices attached to the hospital (with the exception of the continuing care facility on the hospital’s campus) are closing down dead on May 27. This means, among other things that I will be driving 120 miles, round trip, to see a PCP, if one can be found at Eastern Maine Medical. Inland will also happily fix me up with Reddington Fairview, in Skowhegan, which is chronically overworked, or, oh MDI Hospital, which is very nice, but — it’s on Mount Desert Island.

The FAQ on the We’re Abandoning You Page (it’s not called that; it’s called The Transition Page), chirpily informs us that making sure any on-going prescriptions are up-to-date is very important, because the hospital realizes that it may “take some time” for people to find a new PCP.

The hospital also acknowledges that one of the several reasons it’s shutting down is because of staff shortages, so one wonders where the hell they think the people its abandoning are going to find doctors, since a bunch of them are BEING FIRED, and probably moving out of state.

What a freaking mess.

Well.

I guess I’d better make some lunch, hey?

Some time later: Got some reading of the WIP done. Will do more tomorrow while Ashley is here, and I’ve pulled back to Steve’s office to give her room to wield her equipment.

One of the Afternoon Thoughts was that Steve’s cardiologist is going down with the hospital, and that I was glad Steve didn’t have to stress through that. Of course, he’s also my cardiologist, but that seems much less of a *particular* blow. I’ll miss my PCP more. That Thought led to the subsequent thoughts, that I’m glad Steve is missing, oh, yanno, the dissolution of Democracy, and the general demise of the world. I kinda wish I could miss it, too, but — I told the characters I’d do this book for them.

In other news, Trooper is telling me that it’s Coon Cat Happy Hour and he’s pretty nearly right, so I’d better go see if I have enough plates and cocktail napkins, and little paper umbrellas.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Thursday. It’s…raining, and the temps are just above freezing. Supposed high temps for the day in the upper 40sF.

I had taken all the cat toys up from the living room floor and piled them up on top of the ball racer, and put the pile on the sofa so Ashley’s vacuum has a free run. Rook has cleared all the toys off of the ball racer and is playing with it. So, there, Mom! Oh, and now the girls are interested. Photomentary at eleven.

Again! I thank everyone who has left a review for Diviner’s Bow. Keep ’em coming! Also? You guys read hella fast.

Breakfast was sausage gravy on whole wheat/multigrain toast. Kettle’s on for my second mug of tea. Lunch will be — eh. I’ll check the freezer and see if I have any soup. If today’s weather has a Theme, soup is what it’s good for.

Ashley texted that she might be a little late, which, given the weather, is prudent. I’m here until 5:00 anyhoot.

I? Am never going to learn how to count in ASL. Or maybe I mean to say that I’ll never learn how to count fast in ASL. Which is OK. I mean, I don’t particularly count fast in English. I count slightly faster in Spanish, because it became music for me somewhere along the line, and more about matching cadences than counting. Also, it’s my contention that you don’t need to count in sign. If somebody asks you how many kids you have, and you have three, you pat three invisible heads. If somebody asks how many cats you have, you make the sign for “cat” until you’re done.

As soon as I dispatch this letter, I’ll be pulling my work back to Steve’s office, where I’ve activated the heat pump, so it ought to be nice and toasty.

How’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog title is brought to you by The Star Fox by Poul Anderson.  I attribute the quote to Cynbe ru Taren, but it’s been at least 60 years since I’ve read The Star Fox, so I could be wrong.  Great quote, though.

Reading and writing and counting o! my

What went before: So, at end of writing today, the WIP weighs in at 23,075 words OR 113 double-spaced pages. It has been printed out and we’uns will be getting together tomorrow to see where everything is, what pieces are missing (I mean, yes, three quarters of a book is missing, but where’s it missing from? Eh? I. Riddle. You. THAT.)

For right now, I’m straightening up the disaster area called my desk, and trying One! More! Time! to learn how to count in ASL. This is not going well. Part of it is that my fingers are none so limber as they were 50ish years ago, when I learned this stuff the first time, and honestly? I don’t remember being taught how to count. How to say stuff, oh, yeah. Number of stuffs? That’s what the “many” sign is for.

I do remember from the past that one of the very first signs we were taught was “Bathroom” In this iteration “Bathroom” is in Lesson Three, which seems — harsh.

Of course, my first sign teacher was herself deaf, and the most practical woman I’ve ever met. I remember when I forgot the sign for “dear” and substituted “deer,” which made sense to me, but not so much to her, and she demanded to know what I was thinking. I explained that they sounded the same. And She. Just. Stared. At. Me. until I meekly asked, “D-E-A-R, how sign?” Whereupon she signed it for me, LARGELY. . . SSSLLLOOOOOOWLY. So I’d Get It.

A major motion picture, that woman. She was born to conquer worlds, and the Luck gave her me.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

#

Wednesday, sunny and warm-ish. We here in Maine once again stand, battered but unbowed, beneath the threat of a Winter Storm.

Before we go any further, the ebook edition of Diviner’s Bow on Amazon has cracked the top ten list for Science Fiction Adventure. So make of that what you will.

Thank you! to those who have starred and! reviewed! *smooch*

So. Breakfast was Cabot cream cheese on Lundberg rice and red quinoa cakes. The Cabot cream cheese was good (better than Philly cream cheese, which I have been bored with for years, but which has been, except for a brief period when a local dairy operation produced its own cream cheese, the only game in town), the rice-and-quinoa cakes were — OK. Not much different to me than their plain rice cakes. Second cup of tea is with me here at the desk. Lunch will be fish of some kind. Maybe I’ll make good on those salmon cakes that I didn’t make last week. That’ll give me leftovers.

Today, I have some work to do on behalf of the Ribbon Dance audiobook, since I’ll be traveling about the time book prep will be going on, but mostly I’ll be sitting with the WIP, reading what’s there, making notes, and hopefully not yelling, “This is hopeless — HOPELESS!” FWIW, I don’t think that’s where we are.

Last night, I started (re)reading Night’s Master (because of course everyone read Tanith Lee Back In The Day), and being soothed by the lushness of it. That used to be a fantasy thing, all that Imagery and soft, unlikely, specific words, told in that dreamy once-removed voice.

I ran out of socks, so I started doing the laundry, and the sun is pouring into my office, making it toasty warm. Rookie had decided to make Tali’s life a misery and a burden, and once again Firefly stepped in on Tali’s side. I’m finding this evolving dynamic fascinating, and to the point. Rookie’s going to be way too big a cat to allow him to be a bully. And the fact that he’s already bigger than Firefly and she’s whaling the Bast outta him is apparently making an impression. I hope he draws the Right Conclusion.

And that’s what I’ve got for the early report.

What’s everybody doing today?

Firefly, during yesterday’s Gala Book Day Celebrations:

Roland, the Headless Thompson Gunner

What went before: 500ish new words, bringing the total WIP to +/-21,750 words.

Knocking off a little early today, mostly because I have correspondence to write and a house to visualize.

Tomorrow, it looks like I’ll be in, unless the weather revises itself again. We have gotten nothing like the pretty bad storm the ‘beans were predicting. So far. It’s supposed to be warm and rain tomorrow, but a lot depends on timing. Right now, it’s looking like Tuesday is my day out, in between Monday’s warm-and-rain, and Wednesday’s — wait for it — snow.

Also tomorrow, I need to bake bread. I bought some harvest grain mix which I’m going to add to the Standard Whole Wheat Loaf to jazz it up a bit. There’s nothing wrong with the Standard Whole Wheat Loaf, mind you; I just prefer something a little chewier.

Tuesday, of course, is Book Day. It may also be a day to take a short drive and test the proposition that using bluetoothing both googlemaps and sirius xm from the phone will result in my having both things, with the map program interrupting the music as necessary. I’ll also see if the car’s map program will speak to me when there’s a CD in play. I would also like to speak to the person who thought that drivers only need a map or music. Must be a non-driver.

In. Any. Case.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Monday. Cloudy and … there’s something weatherly going on outside — frizzling, I guess.

Breakfast was the last waffle with sausage gravy. Waiting for one of my extremely rare cups of coffee to brew. I have a choice of leftovers for lunch.

The dry ingredients for today’s loaf of bread are mixed together, the other ingredients assembled and ready to be added as soon as everything warms up a bit.

Aside the bread, I have a couple of minor tasks to attend to, but today is, one! more! time!, devoted to writing and to ASL homework.

Has anyone here read Alibi by Sharon Shinn? May I have your no-spoiler impressions?

Unless I knock off really early today, or for some reason choose blanket forting, I will not finish the Honey Pot Plot today. But I probably will finish it tomorrow. It’s a spare little trilogy, but I’ve been consistently amused. I am especially amused that the Myth of the Winged Russian has leaked over from RED (now RED One)– and for all I know RED‘s writers got it from somewhere else. The Winged Russian really deserves a place beside Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner. For those who haven’t read it, the first book is Rocky Start, by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer.

I’ve been rotating between reading on the couch in the evening and reading in bed. The cats are trying to work with it, but I get the sense that they prefer reading on the couch, which, after all, has History behind it. Last night was a couch night, and they all four came in to join me. Tali took the top platform of the cat tree, so she could overlook the whole room. Trooper claimed his usual corner of the couch. Firefly snuggled in hard against my hip, and Rook got up on the back of the sofa and put his paw on my shoulder.

And that’s the Monday morning report from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’s Monday treating you so far?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Mr. Warren Zevon, “Roland, the Headless Thompson Gunner.”

Nobody right til somebody wrong

What went before: Wrote 980 new words this afternoon. Again, they may not be beautiful words, but you can’t fix the words you don’t write.

I am … not in a good frame of mind. I did subscribe to The Atlantic and ill-advisedly looked up our names in the database of stolen works.

Every. Word. either of us has ever written, in every translation has been ripped off. Even if they’re made to “pay,” there’s nothing that can balance this theft. I know I’m only one of a vast number of colleagues who have also had their work vacuumed up to feed the greed of rich men. The number of people who hooked school the day “Stealing is Wrong,” was taught passes belief.

And here I sit, trying to write a book. And I really wonder why.

#

Thursday, sunny and warm(ish).

Breakfast was hummus, naan, and an orange. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch is again on its own.

I’ve been up for a while, though late getting to my updates. I had some correspondence that needed to be answered, and some cats that needed to be snuggled. Figured out how to get from end of this scene to the beginning of that scene. Gordy needs to make a choice, here, and while I know what the choice is, he has to actually do the work of reasoning his way to it.

Thus, the difference between authors and characters.

I haven’t seen anything to the contrary, so I’m expecting there’s ASL class this evening. I should do one more review, and I also want to get Gordy to his decision, so I’ll mostly be here at the desk today.

I want to thank everyone who spoke to the value they place on the universe Steve and I worked in for more than 40 years. Your regard means a lot.

However, as I said elsewhere — the core problem with our society is this notion that awarding someone a dollar amount rectifies a wrong. The only people punished by being made to pay an amount of money to “rectify” a wrong are those people who have no money to being with. Rich people laugh, pay the fine, laugh, and continue down their road, having learned nothing, and utterly without remorse.

In the case of the theft of my life’s work, I don’t want money. (I have never been motivated by money. If I had, I wouldn’t have become a writer, even in a world where my work wasn‘t simultaneously considered frivolous and valuable enough to steal.) I want Balance. I want Them, in the words once written by an author, to lose something that means as much to them as those stories mean to me. I want them to hurt, and to cry, and to bear the scars of their wrongdoing forever.

NPC, indeed.

deep breath

Bedtime reading lately has been Very Nice Funerals, by Crusie and Mayer, the second Rocky Start book. I think the third’s one out now. I should look into that.

I note that Tuesday, April 1, is Book Day for Diviner’s Bow, for those of you who preordered from Amazon, BN, &c. I’ll have to find my Book Releasing Clothes.

So! What’s everybody reading that’s fun?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Mr. Eric Clapton: “It’s in the way that you use it”

Cat census below: