Tag: snippet

But you and I, we’ve been through that

Begin as you mean to go on…

SNIPPET ONE:
The red was beyond excellent. Jen Sin closed his eyes, the better to savor it, and heard Val Con speak.

“I see you’re refining Theo’s taste. But, the jade, Brother? Surely you might have taught her to drink something a bit less dear.”

“It’s not quite so dear,” answered the rich voice of his cousin Shan, “when you have a connection, and a discount. And the jade suits her.”

What went before: So, that’s 1,121 new words written today in two shifts, bringing the WIP entire to +/-56,880 words.

Had a good chat with my friends at Holy Cannoli, where I can attest that the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies are still delicious.

I thought it was going to rain, and it did drizzle a little, but I had been promised a thunderstorm, to usher in a cooler tomorrow, and I’d still kinda like that, please.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served up and consumed, and I’m about to pour myself a glass of wine and go see if I’m still annoyed with Dr. Who, or if I can finish watching the episode I bailed on — a week ago? Two? Whatever.

I have an early appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow, and then I’m pretty much Free until Tuesday.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Sunny and cooler. Windows OPEN. Station air is convenient, but I really prefer ambient conditions.

Woke up earlier than I had planned. Turns out that all four cats were low on snuggles, so we did that for a while before I got up and found, yanno, clothes.

The rosebush has survived another night; no sign of digging activity, though it did rain a little last night, so I’ll have to re-up the hot pepper.

Breakfast was a peach cut up into cottage cheese with tea. More tea to hand, and probably more tea after that. I’ll probably make salmon cakes for lunch; which is, among other things, guaranteed leftovers.

My phone updated itself last night, always an exciting time. The best new toy is a button that will allegedly identify music playing nearby. I used it successfully twice, but now it’s not working, or maybe Google doesn’t recognize Bon Jovi’s “Lay Your Hands on Me,” which I would say the chances of that are…low.

Anyhoots — it’s still early, so I guess I’d better do some of the chores I was going to do later, so I have more time to work, later.

I do have a doctor’s appointment at 10, and a short stop at the grocery after, but that’s all I’ve got to write about.

I can share another SNIPPET, for those who may be interested. Shan and Val Con are in rare form, I fear:

“However, if Val Con wishes to come the disapproving banker – “

Val Con raised his hands. “Acquit me! The red is everything that is wonderful, Master Trader, and I will prove my word by shortly having another glass. I thank you for your generosity on behalf of us all.”

Shan eyed him. “I sense an upcoming bid for my cook.”

“That,” Val Con returned primly, “is not for me to decide.”

“I believe you enjoy saying that,” Shan said.

“I believe I do, too,” Val Con answered, cordially.

And that said! What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Jimi Hendrix, “All Along the Watchtower”

Cat tax  Rookie and Firefly being coy, each in their own manner

 

In which the wine is damned good

What went before: That was a quick 1000-ish words. I must be on the right track. The WIP entire now tips the word meter at! +/-55,075.

I’m done for the day. Tomorrow’s treats include the arrival of Ideal Electric, to subject the generator to its annual inspection, and, in the evening, needleworking at the library. We will also be looking for temperatures in excess of 90F/32C, which is never fun.

And on that note — everybody stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

SNIPPET:
“The wine is well-chosen,” she murmured in Liaden, then slanted a look up into speculative silver eyes, and added, “Damn, that’s good.”

“That the refreshment pleases you must gratify me,” Shan answered politely. He sipped, sighed, and murmured, “Ain’t it, though?”

Tuesday. Sunny, already warm, and aimed for hot, the first of three. Curtains are closed, station air is on; trash and recycling are at the curb.

Breakfast was roast beef and Swiss on whole grain bread with a side of cherries. Lunch will be, err, something.

Trooper is currently in the bathroom, eating his second snack on the day; my second cup of tea is to hand.

I woke up just before 7, but did not start the day with jets hot. There was, for instance, Tali to be stroked and murmured to, as she’s decided that a little morning spoil before arising is good for her complexion, then Rookie got shut in the bedroom closet — I swear to GHU I’m puttin’ a bell on that cat — Firefly made a Formal Solicitation to be brushed, Trooper had to have his first snack, and so on.

Looking at the to-do list, I may not get any writing done today, though if things go faster than expected, I may be able to grab an hour.

I called a critter removal service yesterday, but haven’t heard back yet. I’ll give them today, then move on to Number Two on the list.

And that’s it — another day in the exciting, drama-filled life of a working writer.

What’s your day looking like?

Flashback to yesterday afternoon:  All paws wanted to inspect my new haircut:

The aim of waking is to dream

SNIPPET:

“We ain’t so full up at Jelaza Kazone right at present,” she said.

“No.” He turned on his heel to gaze at her. “The clan is much reduced, I know. In my day, you could buy cousins in lots of a dozen. Come into the kitchen at any hour, and you would be certain to meet a hand or more of them, eating, drinking, playing, as I said, at cards; reading – and quarreling, naturally. We are a quarrelsome lot. Or were. Perhaps our manners are by necessity better, without numbers to back us.”

What went before: Well. It has been an unexpectedly productive day. I haven’t quite finished the laundry, though there’s still time for that to happen. I fed myself lunch, cleaned up the kitchen, put the clean towels away, did my duty the cats, took a walk, and!

Wrote. I really REALLY like this scene, at +/-780 new words, which leaves the WIP entire a breath short of +/-54,000. Perhaps tomorrow, since I know what the scene after this scene is — though not exactly after this one, but — oh, never mind. I’m declaring a victory for the write-what-you-like school of drafting today.

I also need to check in with the smoke detector, which failed to start screaming when I opened the oven to retrieve lunch and a billowing cloud of olive-oil scented smoke emerged. Possibly, it was unset during dusting and needs its button pushed. If it needs a new battery, I will be very cross, since it’s supposed to have a 10-year battery onboard.

I discovered when I was folding socks last night that I was missing one, and, as mandated in The Manual, went back to make sure it wasn’t still in the dryer, or in the hamper, or on the floor, but could discover no sign of it. Well. I hadn’t paid the Portal Tax for a while, so I was … unhappy, but not distraught. This morning, when I moved the towel hamper to start loading the washer, I found the missing sock behind it. I call Feline Shenanigans. Which is, I admit, better than the Portal Tax.

Anywise. I have to do some desk prep for tomorrow — new to-do list and whatnot. And eventually, it will be Coon Cat Happy Hour. But, really, I’m done for the day, and well-satisfied with my accomplishments.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Well. Monday, I believe. Cloudy and said to be on and off rainy. I’m up but not at ’em and am drinking a motivational cup of tea while I address the internets.

The rosebush has survived its second night in the garden.

Trooper has had his first snack of the day, the one with the probiotic stirred into it, and is now resting comfortably on the copilot’s chair. Firefly is staring at me from the observation table next to the window, possibly attempting to indicate on the Cat Telepathy Channel that she, too, would like a bowl of Delectable gravy. Tali (Wrasslin’ Name TaliBOOM) and Rook (Wrasslin’ Name Rookie the Cookie) are alternatively wrasslin’ and zooming.

The writer, Yr Hmbl Correspondent, is really struggling to keep her eyes open, here.

sips tea

On today’s menu — a haircut! The timing of this blessed event suggests that I’ll be stopping at Holy Cannoli to pick up something to take home for lunch, or perhaps I’ll opt to eat there, and sit in the window, brooding over Main Street in the Grand Romantical Style. We shall see.

Also on today’s task list: one’s duty to the cats, playing with the smoke detector (I failed to finish that yesterday, having found the instruction booklet), and trying to figure out why the electric broom (essential to my plan to keep the basement stairs free of dust and fur) doesn’t, err, suck. Also, I want to write.

That seems like a full day, right there. Of course, I deliberately maintain a low bar.

I do think that’s all the news from this location. I really need to finish my tea and go find pants. And a shirt, too, I suppose. And then I hope to be awake enough to hunt the wily Everything Bagel.

And how are you this morning?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by e e cummings, “in time of daffodils“

Winding down the weekend

What went before: SNIPPET!

“You are such a smart ass,” she said, sadly.

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought that had been well-established.”

“Some days, it just shines brighter,” Miri said.

And back to work we go.

#

We’re at an awkward hour; the hour wherein Google assures me that there is No Chance of Rain until Thursday, and yet — that does appear to be water falling out of the sky. It is also the hour wherein I have finished a scene, which adds, in addition to action! adventure! and pathos! to the WIP,  +/-1,295 words, for a Grand Total of 46,435. More or less.

It’s early in the day yet, but I’ve made the Conservative Decision to not try to plunge into the next scene, but to gently wind down the day, and the weekend, here. I am pleased with progress made these last couple days. I have a kind of Swiss cheese day tomorrow, so likely there won’t be much writing done, but Tuesday is free until it’s time to go to Group Sewing, and the rest of the week is free, except for brief visits to the chiropractor. So, it looks good for more writing getting done in a reasonable manner.

There had been an appeal — somewhere (here are the wages of mirroring my posts everywhere) — to describe what goes on at Coon Cat Happy Hour. These things of course are confidential, but you look like a trustworthy bunch.

Coon Cat Happy Hour begins about an hour before 7 pm with Trooper announcing that his throat has been cut and this dire wound can only be healed through a proper application of gooshy food to a plate, right NEOW!

At 7, I arise, open a can of gooshy food, split it four ways, arranging each portion artistically on its own china plate. I serve the ladies first, as Miss Manners would have me to do; and then the gentlemen. The ladies tend to share their portions; the gentlemen view imbibing as a competition, to see who can finish his plate first, then horn in on the ladies. The ladies have lately been managing to eat their portions, daintily and without fuss, before the Huns descend from the mountains.

After the dishes are shining clean, I pick them up and put them in the dishwasher.

I then pour myself a glass of wine and join the coon cats in their after-Happy-Hour-Club on the couch, where we read or watch an episode of (lately) Dr. Who until it’s time for me to get my evening meal together.

And on that note — everybody stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

Napping happened this afternoon, and I have proof!

In which the writer is not a cinephile

First things first:  This is for the purposes of planning the Friends of Liad Breakfast on Saturday morning of  Balticon at 8:45 am

If you are planning to attend the breakfast (you do not need to be a member of the con to come to breakfast): say “Yes” in comments.

Things you need to know about the Friends of Liad Breakfast:  (1) This is a family gathering to catch up with each other and news. Everybody pays for their own breakfast.  (2) It is not a con event.

Go!

#

What went before ONE: Old/new snippet: “Was that too long?” Theo snapped, worry sublimating into temper by a process he understood intimately. “You smashed the rack-and-tile array with a starbar. The doc had to do repairs at the cellular level! You should be dead, except you got lucky.”

Lucky. Of course, he had gotten lucky.

What went before TWO: So, lost +/-230 words on the day, bringing the total WIP to 34,440, more or less. And! I have a follow to a new scene that did not appear in Salvage Right, and which will address something that we glossed over in Salvage Right because deadline and if we kept on going we’d have written a 200,000 word book and, just — no.

There are already /1/0 15 people who say they’ll be attending the Saturday morning Friends of Liad breakfast at BaltiCon. Hoping the in-house restaurant is more amenable to reservations than the Boskone hotel, which, the last time Steve and I hosted a FOL breakfast, adamantly refused to take a reservation, and therefore doomed themselves to constantly rearranging the room for two hours, as folks kept arriving.

I am scheduled to be interviewed at 11:30 on Saturday at the con, according to the Less Drafty Schedule, so that’s something else to bear in mind.

Trooper was unfortunately messily ill this morning, which means that there will be no Happy Hour this evening. Because explaining to cats that they need to not gorge on gooshy food because it will make them sick isn’t exactly an Easy Sell, I think I will be on the couch watching Dr. Who and ignoring the protests of felines whose throats have been cut, rather than trying to read, or write, or do ASL homework.

And that’s all I’ve got on the day.

#

Saturday. The ‘beans claim it’s raining. The weather over the Long Back Yard is mostly sunny and a trifle cool. I’ve set the Awesome Chair up on the deck.

Breakfast was a ham and cheese sandwich (which finishes the ham, which I am now tired of, so it will be easier — for a while, anyway — to resist temptation) and veggie chips. Yes, that does sound like lunch. Actual lunch will be quiche and salad.

Thanks to everyone who pitched in on the name of the movie. Kill Bill it was. Nasty piece of work. Bearing in mind that I also did not think Thelma and Louise was “funny.” I think I may have mentioned that I am not the person they make movies for.

Speaking of movies, I watched The Church on Ruby Road, and the difference between now and 1997 is … wow. The cats all joined me, and we had a lovely viewing. Firefly has already asked that we do it again this evening, so I’ve got that inked in.

I stayed up a bit late last night, to finish The Teller of Small Fortunes. I also made the executive decision not to finish the book club book. This is slightly awkward, because I’m going to listen to the author read from this book in a week or two. OTOH, there always exists the possibility that I’m reading it wrong — reading protocols are A Thing, after all — and that the author’s performance will inform me.

Having gone to bed late, I slept late, and woke up to the realization that I need to start Making Lists for my upcoming perambulations, and for my duties to the con. Since I will apparently not be doing itinerant readings, I think I will read Blays and Majel’s Excellent Adventure officially, and perhaps carry with me “The Last Train to Clarkesville,” in case there’s another opportunity to just sit and read for an hour (it’s a long story).

This still leaves me with packing (1) the big suitcase full of con stuff and (2) the duffel bag, for my mini-vacay on the way home. I have engaged one of those apartmenty things, with a kitchen, and there’s a Wegman’s somewhere in Corning which I’ll try to hit before I check in. I have my tickets for two days at the museum, and two classes booked — one at the museum, and one at a studio in-town.

I still need to come to terms with how to get out of Baltimore. I’m thinking that Steve and I left BaltiCon 50 at, like, 4 o’clock in the morning and just shot out the Jones Falls well ahead of rush hour. That may be my best plan.

Today, I intend, mostly, to write. I have a few chores, as per usual, and one’s duty to the cats, and I will honor Firefly’s request for Moar Dr. Who. Oh, and I have to find something to read. I think I have the most recent Sebastian St. Cyr in the electronic TBR pile, the second Bad Heirs, a couple of cozies, and a Celia Lake to test drive. Yeah, I won’t starve.

What’s everybody reading today?

Oh. There are four cats in my office.

He had a nasty reputation as a cruel dude

What Went Before: Yesterday, I changed out the cat boxes, vacuumed the basement, made bread, and wrote, all against a background of snow, then sleet. The plowguy came by in the late afternoon to plow the accumulation, leaving a skin of snow for the sleet to fall on, rather than taking it down to the asphalt and turning the driveway into an ice skating rink.

I also posted a snippet, which is reproduced below. Before we go there, however — A Word About Snippets: I often snippet from the WIP. I do this to share the joy of the work. In my mind, it’s analogous to my having baked a batch of cookies and offering you one. I am aware (sigh) that some people are … offended by snippets for various reasons that seem Good To Them. If you are one of those folks, and you see SNIPPET in one of my blog posts — skip over that part. You don’t need to write to me to explain how offended you are; I’m fine with not knowing. Both of our blood pressures will thank you.

SNIPPET: He sighed, and tapped the screen, swearing to himself that if it was anything less than news that the twelfth quadrant had disappeared, he would allow it to languish unopened until he had – and froze, staring at what was assuredly one of the rarest items in all the universe.

He had a letter from Theo.

Rarity though it was, he made no move to open it. Such things ought to be treated with respect, if not active alarm.

Monday. Windy and V. cold. Right now, it’s 17F-feels-like-7 (-8C-feels-like-minus-13). Avalanche warning for the White Mountains (in New Hampshire, about 120 miles from the Cat Farm) through Tuesday mid-morning.

Trooper is sitting on my lap helping me write this.

It snowed another inch or two on the overnight. Somebody was kind enough to plow out the berm at the end of the driveway last night. I know it was last night because a fresh-plowed pile would be dirty, and this one is white, so it was snowed upon after it was created. Dunno if the plowguy will be by for the last couple inches; time will tell, and as previously advertised, I’m not going anywhere.

I hereby declare that the trash and recycling will not be going out to the curb tomorrow. I cleared the trash containers in the house Saturday before it started snowing, so we’re all good here.

Breakfast was oatmeal with walnuts and raisins. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will definitely be leftover stew.

Last night, I again tried the reading-in-bed thing, eventually joined by Tali, and then Firefly. Rook did a check-in, but it was too early for him to go to bed. Trooper was in the big cat ring, and I don’t blame him for not wanting to leave it — that thing is cozy.

I was not particularly restful after I turned off the light, and even after Trooper joined me. He finally grumped, got down — and about five minutes later came back with Firefly, talking all the way. They both got on the bed, Firefly took up her position on my hip, Trooper on my ankle, and that did the trick. I slept until the late, luxurious hour of 6:15am. Cat magic FTW.

Dishwasher is doing its thing; I have my duty to the cats, a few pieces of correspondence, and some banking on the to-do list, but mostly, I’m free to write. I’m very interested to see where these letters lead us.

Apparently, I’m expecting a UPS delivery, but no mail — oh, wait. It is, in the US, President’s Day. No mail delivery. That’s fine.

How’s Monday treating everybody so far?

Today’s title brought to you by The Eagles, “Life in the Fast Lane”

Yesterday’s bread — this is a Pullman loaf, swiped by the US train chefs from the French pain de mie.  Its chief attraction is that it makes a uniform square loaf that’s good for same-sized sandwiches, with very little waste.  Mine is whole wheat; the original is a white bread loaf.

 

And go-kart Mozart was checkin’ out the weather chart

What Went Before: I returned to the keyboard after serving up Happy Hour. Trooper is calling foul and is trying to get Tali to fill out the form in triplicate to the Committee Cat. Tali is not interested in getting carbon on her toes, so I’m not sure that complaint’s going to be filed any time soon.

956-ish new words on the WIP, which brings it a whisper short of 5,000 total words. I’m pleased with the day’s progress, and look forward to making more progress, tomorrow.

I would like to report that the portable deadbolts I bought from Amazon really do work well, but I had reckoned without the Resident Void, who can quite easily stand up on his back feet and dork around with the chain — not a particularly safe situation. Cats, man…

I have received a Very, Very Dangerous Email from Vacassa offering almost-affordable places to stay oceanfront in Old Orchard Beach. I tried to avert my eyes — well, no, I didn’t. I opened the dern thing right up and started clicking. It’s a little unnerving to find that I know where most of these places are, including the one in Ocean Park, which is, yes, Just A Walk from the Beach, but it’s a Rather Stern Walk.

The ‘beans are clinging to this upcoming Weather Event like it’s their firstborn child. I’m not going anywhere, myself, and the generator is ready on standby, but I could honestly do without a Weather Event. I’m ready to be done with winter. Witness my explorations at the beach, above.

I think I’d better be done at the desk for the day, before I get into even more Dutch with the coon cats. I do still have to pair socks and clear the dishwasher, and by that time Trooper may have decided to file the report himself.

SNIPPET: “Treachery is always possible,” his former master reminded him in memory. “Honor is always possible. It is our task as traders to nurture honor while being alert for treachery.”
OR: “Trust in Allah, but tie your camel.”

Onward.

Sunday.  Snowed a couple inches on the overnight. Looks to be taking a breather right now, then we’re supposed to be treated to more snow and the ever-popular wintry mix.

Breakfast will be scrambled eggs. Lunch will be — dunno. Maybe leftover stew. Maybe a grilled cheese sandwich. We’ll see.

Today’s plans include changing out the cat boxes, baking a loaf of bread, writing, and contemplating the precipitation when and how it chooses to fall from the sky. Surely, that’s enough for one day.

So! Those who attended — how’s Boskone?

Everybody else — how’s the weekend been treating you?

Today’s title brought to you by Bruce Springsteen and Manfred Mann.  Yes I do realize this is a Religious Thing that’s just as heat-inducing as Oxford Commas, and How Many Spaces After a Period.  That being so:
“Blinded by the Light,” Manfred Mann
“Blinded by the Light,” Bruce Springsteen

Sunday morning photo shoot: