the writing life – Sharon Lee, Writer

Time is for dragonflies and angels

Before we get started, a Shout Out: Karen Rix Krah, if you are within the sound of my voice, please email me! Thanking you…

What went before: Boy, that sweet potato was good. One of the “Japanese” sweet potatoes, with the purplish skin and the white flesh.

I am currently rearranging the drawers in the pantry so I can centralize my baking stuff, and get to it more easily.

When Steve got taken with the need to rearrange things, or clean the house, he would say, “I’m writing — no, really I am.” And it did more often than not turn out that, next day, or that night, he’d be hitting the keyboard.

So, yanno — I’m writing.

Rook came out to the dining room to eat a few crunchies and keep me company. He’s gone back to the jetpak in the living room. Tali and Trooper are in my office with me, and Firefly is spending the day in Steve’s office.

Some Hours Later: OK, the pantry makes more sense to me now, in re having all the most-used baking things in one accessible drawer instead of some way over my head, some more way down there, and the rest at waist level.

Firefly and Tali were having a game of tag — not sure where Tali is at the moment. Rook is playing with his robot mouse. Trooper is on the co-pilot’s chair with interested ears, trying to figure out What That Kid Is Doing without, yanno, actually getting up and looking.

Sunday

The Early Report: The cats woke me at 6, according to the bedroom clock, which I’ll need to change later. It was of course 7 and probably they’ve done me a favor, but I’m not feeling the love at the moment.

First cup of tea in hand, and I in my robe am sitting in the comfy office chair under a heated blanket, blinking owlishly at the sun rising over the Long Back Yard.

Oof.

Can we just choose one, please?

Later: Sunday. Sunny and chilly. Going to make a sprint for 40F/4C. So say the weatherbeans.

I did sit in the comfy chair, under the heated throw, for an hour, drinking my tea, and staring out the window, which I intend to recommence shortly after I finish writing this dispatch to the internets.

Breakfast was pb&j on an English muffin. Second cup of tea at hand. Lunch will be chicken and veggies. (Though I don’t usually report on the evening meal — last night I had a grilled cheese sandwich and It. Was. Awesome.)

I’ve stripped the bed and have made the Command Decision to retire the flannel sheets for the season. So, that’s A Thing.

And — always aside from one’s duty to the cats, and of course, remaking the bed — that may be all Real Life gets out of me today. I have got to fix this damn’ timing issue, or order in another barrel of handwavium. Or, yanno, both. Can’t have too much handwavium in Da Biz.

How’s everybody feeling today?

Bonus: For the folks wondering if I’ve “grown accustomed.” TED talk from Nora McInerny. It’s short, and in my admittedly limited experience, accurate.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by the sainted Mr. James Thurber: The Thirteen Clocks, which, if you haven’t read it — do that. No, I mean now.

Back on the rocking horse

What Went Before: Tali’s fan club will be pleased to know that she is pronounced “a looker” by her vet, a little lean, but in perfect health. She has received her chip, gotten a pedicure, and had her ears cleaned.

Short story: Tali is still not certain that I have clearance to pick her up all the time, so I was feeling pretty good about having not only picked her up, but carrying her to the box with the bare minimum of wiggling, and into the box itself with only one curse word (from Tali). I latched the gate, and went to start the car.

By the time I got back, Rook had managed to unseat one side of the latch — which wasn’t enough to let her force the gate down, but I’d just like to say, Thank God that kid isn’t polydactyl. And also? He’s gonna be running this town by the time he’s five.

Tali is now home, and sleeping the sleep of the Justly Exhausted under the dining room table.

I am having a cookie, which may become two cookies (spoiler: it did become two cookies), and a cup of tea.

Thursday. Rainy and warm. Foggy as the snow sublimates.

Ashley’s due in an hour or so, and tonight is ASL class.

Breakfast was toasted English muffin with cream cheese and grapes. Lunch will be, um. Chicken. I baked chicken breasts yesterday, but opted for the last of the drunken noodles for my actual lunch. I’m pretty sure you can’t live on drunken noodles, but apparently I’m willing to try.

I straightened up my desk again yesterday afternoon. At least I have the answer to the question, “Why is there so much crap on this desk?” Because, in part, I’m writing a book, so paper accretion is A Thing, but also because I have two insurance cases open.

I did finally retire to the blanket fort, after downloading All Systems Red from Audible. I put on my headphones and closed my eyes. That appears to have been a Good Call.

Tali is swinging back and forth between, “Monster! You put me in the evil box and put the evil box in the car and TOOK ME AWAY.” and, “You brought me home from the evil place where all the ladies cooed over me and told me how beautiful I am. MY HERO!” I suppose she’ll get it sorted in a day or two.

A week ago, I ordered something from Across the Pond, and the Royal Mail has been my best friend ever since. They notified me when my packet was received into their system, when it had boarded the plane, when it landed (though not what it had had for tea), when it entered the tender care of the US postal service, and, this morning, that the packet had been welcomed at my local post office and was on a truck for delivery. If I had expected anything, I would have expected a cessation of correspondence from the Royal Mail once the package entered the care of the USPS, but no–apparently they’re going to see it through to the moment I sign the release. I’ll actually miss their letters.

I shifted all my notes and whatnot back to Steve’s office so Ashley can have a clear field when she arrives.

And that’s my news.

What’s yours?

Yesterday, the younger Directors decided to play Tic-Tac-Toe

Like a bird on a distant mountain

What went before Part One: Spoke to the hospital billing office, which, predictably, blamed the insurance company.

Spoke to the insurance company, which originally said, “$X? You should owe +$X!” I asked if they would please look at the previous incident of my going to the walk-in clinic a week before to see how much I had been billed for that. She did. The insurance company has Opened A Case. I may, for 30 days at least, ignore the bill. Insurance company will call me when its investigations are complete.

Went out to get the mileage on the car so I can call the dealership.

Part Two: All of my phone calls are made; all of my reservations are finalized.

As our navigator, Steve of course used to do all the route planning and hotel reservations. Even basing my route on one that he had refined, it’s exhausting.

I am now free to heat up and eat my lunch. After which I will perform my duty to the cats and possibly take a nap.

Part Three: No writing today. I am completely wiped out. Into the blanket fort with me!

Tuesday. Gloomy and already nearly as warm as it was yesterday. The ‘beans tell us we’re looking at 44F/7C today, and rain.

Trash and recycling are at the curb.

Breakfast was oatmeal with dried cranberries and walnuts. Lunch will be the rest of the chicken pie.

Tali and Rook are chasing each other around the house. Firefly is on the back of the comfy chair in my office, and Trooper is in the copilot’s seat.

I do need to go out this morning to get my meds from the pharmacy. Prolly should get cat food and milk while I’m there. Maybe drive past the car wash. Surely, people won’t be getting their cars washed on a day when it’s going to rain? Heh. Heh.

For those who collect such things, my headshot and short bio are up at the BaltiCon 59 website.

BaltiCon is very organized; I’ve already heard from the Guest Liaison, and this morning have a letter in-queue from the head of programming.

I know it’s early days, but could I see a show of hands — who thinks they’ll be coming to BaltiCon?

raises hand

For today — I have the above-said errands, one’s duty to the cats, answering the programming letter, and writing.

Tali is now standing on my lap and nibbling my fingers — and off she goes.

What’s happening with you today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by The Blue Jays, “I Dreamed Last Night”

Don’t forget who’s takin’ you home

What went before: Well. I’ve made a timeline, and notes, and more notes. It looks like I’m going back to Station Day 48 to start, which is further than I thought I’d have to go.

I have an invoice from the plow guy, second of a set, which I need to check against the calendar, and then write a check. I note for interest’s sake, that the bill for February is exactly the same as the previous bill for the entire rest of the winter previous to February. Plowing is billed by the incident, which means it snowed as much in February, the — thank ghod — shortest month of the year, as it snowed in November-December-January, combined.

Tomorrow, I have to call Martin’s Point, because they billed me for an Out-of-Network specialist for going the walk-in clinic, which in theory should cost me nothing. The special part of that bill is that the procedure is listed as “miscellaneous.” Man, I took bookkeeping, be it ever so long ago. “Miscellaneous” is the Kiss of Death. Get it right the first time, why not?

Also tomorrow I have to make the reservations I didn’t make today because I wanted to write. Mind you, I expect that I’ll want to write tomorrow, too, so there’s a false economy.

I need a secretary. And a cook. And a housekeeper. And an assassin. Not necessarily in that order.

It did occur to me today that I could get everything done if I just went back to the desk after Coon Cat Happy Hour, and worked until midnight/1 am, like I used to do in Olden Times, when I would then also get up at 5:30 to go to my day-job.

. . . I suspect that might be a young person’s game . . .

Monday. Sunny and -3F/-19C. My office hasn’t warmed up yet, and I write to you in my Official Winter clothes of flannel shirt and jeans, with a fleece lap blanket.

Breakfast was the last of the Port Salut on toast with grapes. Second of what I fear will be many cups of tea to hand. Lunch will very likely be leftover drunken noodles.

Last night kind of went from bad to worse. I finally gave up on deciding if I was going to eat anything, made chamomile tea in a Yeti cup, took my book and went to bed, where I was speedily joined by Rookie the Cookie, Grandpa Trooper, and Tali (who hasn’t earned a nickname yet). We put on some soft jazz; I drank my tea and read, and finally went to sleep.

I had a dream where I was involved in a music festival/co-op/fund raising kind of … something. I got dragged into being a liaison between one of the bands and the set-up crew, because the guy who was supposed to be doing that work had been sent off on a round of errands and hadn’t come back yet. Things were a little confused, in the way of dreams — and music festivals, and fund raisers — but the original band liaison did finally come back just in time to rescue me as I was trying to explain how the band worked to one of the organizers, which wasn’t making happy listening for the organizer. The original liaison backed me, agreed to nothing with great cheerfulness, and got the organizer out the door, which he locked, then turned to me with a grin.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said. “Did Angel pay you, or at least give you something to eat? Or did you want something else?”

“I was wondering if I could have the music for the last song in the set,” I said.

“That song? They don’t share that song, they only play it.”

“Well, I wanted to learn to play it,” I said.

He laughed. “Oh! In that case — let’s go find Angel.”

I woke up at 7 with Firefly tucked against my stomach.

Today, I have a cool three million — or at least six — phone calls to make, some letters to answer, my duty to the cats, and to stage the trash for tomorrow, if it ever warms up (the day, not the trash). I don’t actually have to be anywhere until Wednesday afternoon, when Tali has her meet ‘n greet at the vet.

And that’s it for right now.

How’s Monday treating you so far?

Today’s blog post brought to you by The Drifters, “Save the Last Dance for Me“

Rook Thunderpaws’ Natal Day Celebrations

What went before: Lunch was drunken noodles, which I got the last time I ordered out, and it was lovely and worth a repeat. I also have won ton soup which will likely be dinner. If not, it will be breakfast. And? I have drunken noodles left over.

I wound up having to write a short bio, because the short bio in hand was for Us, not for Me, or even for Us that Was. I think I’ve got it nailed down. One more read-through for typos and I’ll send it along.

I did do some writing, by which I mean, I rewrote a couple of scenes and lost about 500 words. So — progress!

Tali has come into my lap numerous times today, and has even allowed me carry her around the house, and comb her. So — progress!

Today could possibly be Sunday, but whatever the day, the date is March 2 which means!

It’s Rook Thunderpaws’ first birthday.

Festivities are already in train. Rook had a vigorous game of tag with Tali, ending with Tali throwing the yellow ball at Rook, who was clearly supposed to bop it back to her, except Rook hadn’t read the rules of the game all the way to the end. There was a moment of awkwardness, which Firefly interrupted by chasing Rook through the kitchen.

In keeping with the festive nature of the day, breakfast was ham and Swiss cheese with mustard on whole grain bread, with ham treats shared out among the revelers.

My lunch today will be (part) of the now-defrosted crustless chicken pot pie. And yes there will be ice cream.

The plan today is to write. We’ll see how that works out.

What’s your plan for the day?

Morning Festivities, a short photo-blog:

Big Time

What Went Before: The snow has stopped, and the town plows are out in force.

1000 new words written today. I really need to get my head back into what’s happening on the station, after spending two consecutive books on Colemeno. I was also very gratified to find a place to step back to, where I could begin from a different angle, and that we had been smart enough to leave a gap I can use for some Fun Stuff that we didn’t get to include in Salvage Right because then it would have been 500,000 words long and Toni would have murdered us.

I’m not going to give a running total for the current WIP, because I still have to revise, disassemble, reassemble, contract, and extend what I had already written.

I have an Itinerary for my May wanderings. Steve always used to do the trip planning, because he was good at it, and I — am not. However, it occurred to me that I could use the trips to New Jersey and to Westminster last — no. In 2023. — as models to get me to Baltimore without killing myself. So! Waterville to Cooperstown. Cooperstown to Baltimore. Baltimore to Corning. Corning to Rutland. Rutland to Waterville. Easy-peasy and all (except for the trip to Corning) well-known routes. Thank you, Steve.

I did make my reservation at Corning. Tomorrow, I’ll try to get Cooperstown and Rutland taken care of, and then I’ll realio trulio be committed to this thing.

And, yes, I do know that New York State is the carousel capital of Planet Earth. It’s tempting to just take, yanno, four months off, have nothing but fun, See All the People and Do All the Things, but I really do have to get some writing done this year, too.

And that’s all I’ve got. In retrospect, a busy day — and that multigrain loaf from the (King Arthur) kit is delicious. I may get another one or two of those, to have in reserve, because I do not normally stock All the Grains, not to mention the seeds and other yummy, crunchy stuff.

All that said — onward!

Friday. Intermittent sunshine. Not so warm today, and snow predicted on the overnight.

I have come to the conclusion that the snow is targeting me. Yesterday, it snowed out my first ASL class; tomorrow, I have an appointment to get my hair cut. Pfui on you, snow. I pick my teeth at you.

What else? Oh, breakfast!

Breakfast was a tomato and cheese sandwich on two slices of the multigrain loaf I made yesterday. Lunch will be the last of the store-bought quiche, which was … OK. But my quiche is better.

Today, I have Chores. The first load of laundry is washing. I need to set the vacuum working, make some phone calls, finish with the reservations for the Big Trip, do the banking, catch up with a couple pieces of correspondence, perform my duty to the cats, and maybe take a walk. Eeek. Feast or famine. Fire or drought. If I don’t fall asleep, Actual, yanno, Work is scheduled for after lunch.

I have been remiss in telling you all about this wonderful new timer I have put into use. As is the case with so many very simple things, I have a really hard time using kitchen timers. Lately, I’ve had Google to yell at to set a timer, but Google sometimes loses the plot, and sometimes I forget to yell. Mostly, I’ve been setting the timer on the Big Microwave, which is old enough to drink, vote, and run for president, and I’ll be blunt — I live in fear of the day that microwave dies, because I Have No Idea how the one that came with the house works.

Anyway (yes, I’m still talking about timers, but I got bored with the above paragraph and decided it would look nicer if I introduced some white space), the Big Microwave has a chicklet keypad, and I’ve become worried that I may wear the keys out and poof! there goes my access to the second most-used item in my kitchen. So, I bought a timer, and I want to tell you, it’s so simple even I can use it, and the bell is loud, so if I — not that this ever happens — forget that I set a timer for my tea and go to the back of the house to do something, I can hear the bell go off (just like the microwave timer), and go rescue said tea before it climbs out of the cup and begins a pilgrimage to the Old Country.

Here’s the timer.

What else? OH! BaltiCon. Yes, you — yeah, even YOU — can come to BaltiCon; it’s not a closed club or anything. Guests of honor this year are Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Sebastien de Castell, Stephanie Law, Marc Abrahams, Joanna Fang, Blake Collins, and (my favorite, though I shouldn’t say so) the Baltimore Gamer Symphony Orchestra. Plus, yanno, the Heinlein Award winner, and a cool three million writers, artists, costumers, and filkers. Really, you should come if you can; it’ll be a great time. That’s BaltiCon 59.

I should mention that BaltiCon is a Very Important Con in my personal life. I met Steve Miller for the first time at BaltiCon 10, in 1976. While we were still living in Maryland, BaltiCon was our “home con.” We were Writer Guests of Honor at BaltiCon 37 in 2003, and attended the big BaltiCon 50 Guest of Honor Get-Together in 2016.

And I really do think that’s all.

How’s Friday treating you?

Today’s blog title isn’t brought to you by Peter Gabriel, but it’s a good song, anyway. “Big Time”

Friday morning cat census:

Rufo’s Box — 1st unfolding

Wednesday. Anything Can Happen Day, but we took care of that last night.

This is a quick post before I go off to the Arts Center for a change-of-venue Deep Writing Session.

So, first! Thanks to everyone for your congratulations.

1. Yes, I will be attending BaltiCon.

2. Yes, I’ll try to schedule a Friends of Liad breakfast, lunch, tea, something. I obviously don’t have a schedule yet — except that I’ll be busy at Opening Ceremonies — so I can’t say when yet. It’s good to recall here that BaltiCon is at the end of May and we are presently at the end of February.

3. Yes, I know there are typos and errors in the press release. It’s BSFS’s press release and Fair Play says that you use the press release as it comes in.

4. Nope, I don’t know how I’m getting to Baltimore yet. The New! Improved! Plan! has me driving and hitting the Corning Glass Museum (remember that plan?) on my way home. This is probably the third or fourth plan I’ve had regarding travel since I knew I’d have to be in Baltimore.

5. No, the cats are Not Impressed. This is, after all, why so many writers have cats. They keep our egos in check.

That’s the quick news from the Confusion Factory.

How’s everybody doing this morning?

I have only come here seeking knowledge

What Went Before: Well! That was a productive running of errands. The only thing I didn’t get done was getting the car washed, because the entire city had that same idea.

I have One! Gotten my ears (re)pierced, a chain shortened and fitted out with magnets.

Two! Stopped at Holy Cannoli. Because I am Weak. Bought a pumpkin chocolate chip cookie bigger than my head (so I can have a cookie to eat while I’m baking cookies), and also a ginormous chunk of spinach lasagna, which is at least two meals and maybe three.

Three! Bought too much stuff at the grocery store, including Maine Root root beer, because if you’re going to buy things you don’t really need, buy the Good Stuff. I noted with dismay the lack of eggs and the thinness of milk. Saw two people I haven’t seen for more than a year. One was Steve’s former boss at the library, who introduced me to her grandkids, one of whom is taller than I am. The other was the guy who had owned our neighborhood liquor store when we lived in Waterville, and I did tear up talking to him — sorry, Joe, but no, I’m not really getting “accustomed.”

Four! Checked the post office box. No mail.

Five! Got home in time to greet the FedEx truck, which offloaded two packages, neither one of them my keyboard.

The oven is now heating so that it will be worthy to receive lasagna. I’ve already scheduled a haircut, and Trooper’s annual wellness check with the vet.

Tali is not sure I live here, even after the other three cats came to give me welcome-home bumps.

Sometime later: 500ish words written on my lovely repaired keyboard, which brings the total WIP in its various pieces to +/-10,600 words.

Trooper is insisting that Happy Hour is late, but he is not yet correct.

I made a batch of cookies, so the Rolanni Red Alert is no longer in force.

Tali is willing to have me live here if I’ll feed her. Of course, she says that now.

Oh! There were three cats in the picture; Trooper was in the copilot’s seat in my office.

Tuesday. Grey but warm. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Woke up at 6, attended to necessary business and went back to bed for another hour and a half. Apparently, I had too much excitement yesterday. I’m still a little fuzzy, so I’m thinking today is going to be the comfy chair in my office, a pad of paper and a pen. Jen Sin still hasn’t opened his mail. That! Man!

Breakfast was large and late: last of the leftover potatoes fried with onion and leftover sausage. Lunch will be (no really) the slice of store-bought quiche that was deferred yesterday in favor of lasagna. We Have A Theme.

Finished reading The Sign of the Dragon by Mary Soon Lee last night. I see that Destiny’s Way from Jack Campbell downloaded this morning, which — you can’t get any more perfect timing than that.

Tali is starting to demand my lap, and is willing to fight Rook for the right. This is a little problematic, being as the household is down a lap, and everyone has lap rights. She is willing to share, which is interesting, and may be workable, if Rook can be made to see the advantages.

Today’s to-do, as above — mostly a writing day, with sides of one’s duty to the cats and remembering to eat lunch.

What’s on your to-do list?

Today’s title brought to you by The Police, “Wrapped Around Your Finger”

Below two pictures: Rook’s selfie, and a picture taken to demonstrate to Alma Alexander that, yes, the cats do use the ring-bed on the floor. When they want to.

This ain’t no kind of living for an honest workin’ man

Monday. Dim and cool. Temps said to be heading for 38F/3C.

Breakfast was a blueberry muffin and brie. Cup of tea to hand. Lunch will likely be some of the store-bought quiche.

We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory are in a state of emergency — Rolanni Code Red. There are no cookies in the house.

No, I don’t know how this was allowed to happen, either. I suppose I’ll just have to do what Steve did when there weren’t any cookies in the house and! bake some.

Today I have phone calls to make and errands to run. Also, perhaps, some writing to get done. When last seen, Jen Sin had just arrived in his office and does not yet know that there’s a delightful letter from Shan awaiting him, and I really don’t want to keep him too long from his treat.

Yesterday’s conversation with Eileen Stevens was delightful, as always. We have another chat scheduled for Tuesday evening.

For those coming in late — Eileen is narrating Diviner’s Bow, which will be coming from Audible. We don’t have a date yet, but given the drop-deadline for the first cut, the best guess is close to the release of the hardcover.

Meanwhile, in another part of the jungle, Alex Picard will be narrating Ribbon Dance, which, it says here, is to be published by Tantor on August 12.

I do see Ribbon Dance in Audible’s catalog of Liaden books (link scroll to the bottom, just under Diviner’s Bow), so it looks like folks who buy their books from Audible will be able to download it from their Usual Supplier.

Note: The above constitutes the Entire Contents of My Head regarding upcoming audiobooks. If you have Questions beyond what I’ve told you, I can’t answer them. No, really; I can’t.

In so-called Real Life, Informed Delivery, FedEx and UPS all say that I’ll be getting deliveries today — no, wait! tomorrow! Er? Maybe? Sometime?

Of course, the thing I most care about — my keyboard — seems to have gone missing entirely, after apparently sampling the night life in Tacoma WA for a week. And I’m apparently taking delivery of another package from Petco, which — I think Petco has lost count, somewhere. Not that I’m about to turn back cat litter; it’s not going to go bad, after all.

So, the adventurous and slightly confused life of a writer.

How’s your life this morning?

Today’s title brought to you by Jude Cole, “Start the Car”

How many cats are in this picture?

He picks up a bus and he throws it back down

What went before: Lots of staring out the window today. Which counts! Only you it doesn’t show up in the word count, which at close of business today is! +/-10,095 words. A milestone. Only 89,905 words left to go.

Sunday. Cloudy. Snowing very lightly at the moment. Temperatures said to be heading for the upper 30sF.

Sat up late last night, talking with Firefly. I was allowed to sleep in until almost 8am.

Breakfast was a waffle with strawberries and cherry syrup, sausage, tea. Tali is currently occupying my lap, and it is Tali’s philosophy that her tail is magnificent and that if she chooses to smack you in the face with it, your only possible reaction is delight.

I have no idea what lunch will be. I have a couple of choices, including a store-bought quiche — which was actually cheaper than buying eggs to make a quiche — so not likely to starve.

This afternoon, I’m to speak with the narrator for Diviner’s Bow, Eileen Stevens, who has narrated many of our books. Diviner’s Bow will be coming out from Audible very close to the publication of the hardcover. I don’t have a DATE date, but the turnaround time is — very ambitious (what is it with this book that demands kamikaze production?).

In and around that, I have some straightening up to do, one’s duty to the cats, and maybe some writing. We’ll see what happens.

What’s on your schedule today?

Today’s title brought to you by one of the songs Steve and I would always turn up the radio for, and then sing along, and which has become strangely topical. Blue Oyster Cult: “Godzilla.”

After Firefly came home from the vet the other day, Rook tried on her carry box for size. I think I need to go one up, or actually convince him to walk on the leash. He’ll wear his jacket all day long, and proudly, but he still doesn’t get the “let’s take a walk,” thing. He’d rather chew on the leash.