Tag: the writing life

Crystal World

Wednesday. Raining.

Well. That’s a right mess out there, that is. The steps are glassy with ice. I have administered ice melt. The smart money at the moment is on — Rolanni is staying in today. But, yanno; that could change.

. . . and as I type this, the plowguy arrives. I’m not sure he made anything better, but he’s clearly banking on this 55F-and-rain to clear us back down to a clean slate.

The next time I *do* get out, I’ll need to take on clay cat litter, along with more ice melt. And maybe a wreath. I’ve been thinking it would be nice to have an inside wreath, in keeping with Tradition. Not sure I’m up to getting out Steve’s Tree (it being Steve’s Tree, because his mom had made it for him), but I could maybe set out one of the glass trees. I do like some light in the Dark Times.

First cup of tea is brewing. I’m not sure what’s for breakfast, which condition, in the most recent rewriting of Da Rules, means, “oatmeal.” Da Rule Being: “If you can’t decide what’s for breakfast, it’s oatmeal. No skipping breakfast.”

Anyhoot, after breakfast, I will once again Survey the State of the Grounds, and see if I’m going out, or if I’m calling to cancel my hair appointment.

All other planning depending on the State of the Grounds, I guess I’d better get with breakfast, and! Oatmeal it is.

Update: I’ve decided not to risk my neck — or other important body part — on the ice.

Also, I have Suddenly! Realized! that I can buy a new lighted base for the crystal ball that Steve and I gave each other for a wedding present, back in 1980. The old base had long ago succumbed to leaking batteries, and was discarded. The ball has since graced a shelf in the living room.

* * *

For those who don’t take the Evening Edition, as it were, on Facebook, a small catchup:

Yesterday, instead of doing any of the Useful Things I should have done, I worked on my story. I regret nothing.

The guy, and his helper, did come by and installed all five programmable thermostats, which I then programmed. However, I forgot to hit “Run” at the end of the programation, and the house stayed at 69 all night, which was — kinda nice, actually, but not very efficient of fuel. I have today repaired my error, and the heat should get turned down on the overnight, which, yes, means the house will be cool, but this is after all why I have blankets.

. . . and that’s all the news and catchup, too. Now that I have the whole day ahead of me, I believe that I will — write.

Yeah.

Crystal ball, signed by the artist RW Stephanious (?),1980, given by Steve Miller to Sharon Lee, and by Sharon Lee to Steve Miller on the occasion of their marriage, November 6, 1980.

Winter Living

Tuesday. Snowed on the overnight, and the plowguy is somewhere in my future. Yanno what? Trash and recycling can stay right there in the garage and get dealt with next week.

Breakfast was an English muffin with cream cheese, and one of those little oranges — Peelz, they call themselves. Lunch ought to be fish-and-something. I guess We’ll See.

Fingers crossed that the guy who agreed to replace the thermostats can still do that today.

I did a bit of puttering yesterday, baked some cookies, and inventoried winter gear. I have my winter jacket, Steve’s winter jacket; my Big Coat, and Steve’s Big Coat. So — well supplied there. I also have my gloves, Steve’s gloves (which are too big, but will do in a pinch), and various ear muffs, watchcaps, and scarves. And boots. I have two pair of boots — one short and one tall. Anyhoot — that’s winter sorted.

I wrote to Pair Network yesterday regarding the legacy email accounts. A rep has written back this morning with instructions for closing those mailboxes. Anyone who holds a “korval.com” address for either myself or Steve? Delete them from your address book.

Today, I’ll be deleting email accounts, as above, waiting for the electrician and the plow guy, taking down the window screens in my office, which Firefly has decided are *lovely* to hook her claws into, submit information regarding upcoming publications to the Maine Writers emagazine. I would *like* to look at my story, which was just gaining momentum. Word from Baen is that galleys for Diviner’s Bow will be arriving this week, so I have to consider the fact that I’m going to get interrupted again, RSN.

Last night after Coon Cat Happy Hour, I snuggled under my new blanket in a corner of the couch, which rather quickly accreted cats, put on the big, expensive headset Steve bought for me years ago, and listened to The Goblin Emperor. It was . . . really nice to just sit with my eyes closed and do nothing, except listen. I’m not much good at doing nothing, so that was a revelation. …it kind of reminded me when headphones had suddenly arrived on the home music scene, lying on the floor, tethered to the record player, eyes closed, and there was just — music. I s’pose that’s another option in this Brave New World; I’ve been used to playing music through a boom box, or the devices scattered ’round the house. Well.

So, there’s the news, such as it is.

How’s everybody doing?

Cat census and proof of life:

 

In Which the Writer Recovers

Um. Monday, I believe. Cloudy and cold.

It was a challenge getting out of bed this morning, but I managed the thing by a little after seven, rustled up some oatmeal with sour cherry jam, and am now waiting on the kettle so I can have my second cup of tea before I go to gym, ref “cold” above. Not that I expect it to get that much warmer, but it will give the ice melt time to work on the steps, and me, time to get a little more awake.

Today will be all about catching up on the things I didn’t do this weekend, in favor of turning the copy edits around at faster-than-light speeds. And a nap. A nap sounds really good. But not before gym.

For those who worry about such things, in which set I include myself, the plowguy did come yesterday, around 6:00, I guess. The fact that it now gets dark in the middle of the afternoon makes it seem like everything is happening at midnight.

What else? Ah! Actual News of Note! To wit:
1. Ebook preorders of Sea Wrack and Changewind now stand at! Amazon, 327; Apple, 10; BN, 2; Kobo, 9.

2. The trade paper edition of Sea Wrack… will go on sale this Friday, December 13. The ebook will publish on December 17. The audiobook will be available from Tantor on January 28.

3. The mass market paperback of Ribbon Dance, of which I had begun to have Doubts, will, so I learn in Locus, publish in April.

3a. No, I’ve heard nothing further regarding the audiobook from Tantor.

4. The hardcover and ebook editions of Diviner’s Bow will be published on April 1.

4a. No, I don’t know when the eARC will be offered; possibly 90 days before the Official Pub Date.

4b. No, I have no information about an audiobook.

Oh, look; the sun’s coming out.

So! That’s my news. What’s yours?

Here’s a picture of Apprentice Editorial Assistant Rook Thunderpaws hard at work this weekend:

Onward

Sunday. Snowing.

First cup of tea has brewed. Breakfast will be skyr and toast because it’s easy and I can eat it while I read.

Today! is copy edits, and trying to make some sense of the additions to the glossary.

Last night, I watched the first episode of the Marlow Murder Club. I’m interested enough to watch the second.

After — yeah, eyes wouldn’t focus sufficiently to read, and I’d already been reading all day. I listened to The Goblin Emperor for a bit (which was comforting), and so to bed.

Firefly is in the window, watching the snow. Trooper wants to know what I’m doing at the damn’ computer AGAIN, and Rook just came in from the other room to find out what Trooper’s yelling about.

Whatcha doin’ today?

Why Writers Drink, Part — are to we ten million, yet?

Saturday. Cold and grey.

We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory are under Rush Orders from the publisher and so will be scarce until the copy edits have been reviewed/accepted/rejected.

<complaint>I had A Plan. My Plan was to write a nice, comfortable short story, to get back into the mindset of writing-not-editing, interspersed with making chili, breads, and other Stuff for the freezer so as to be prepared to slip into writing the next book. Forget that Plan.</complaint>

Kettle’s on. Breakfast will be PBnJ onna whole wheat English muffin. Lunch — oh, who knows.

I did set the alarm for O’Ghod O’Clock, and I did get up to turn up the thermostats. But then I went back to bed for another hour, because I’d rather work late in a warm house than early in a freezing one.

And that? Is the news that’s fit to print.

Everybody stay warm, or cool, or whatever may be appropriate.

In which the writer declares for no drama

Thursday. Grey and … well, it has snowed, somewhat …

sticks head out door

… I guess it might be said to be mizzling.

Breakfast was scrambled egg with onion and a spoonful of potato salad, because (1) I never did make hardboiled eggs and (2) the potato salad needs to be used. Lunch is prolly a tuna sandwich on homemade wheat toast, with could be a side of tomato soup. It’s kind of a tomato soup day.

Gym is hereby put off til tomorrow.

Before I forget! Land’s End is having a half-price sale, ending today. In case you, like me, need mock tnecks.

Last night, I said that I was going to be declaring today drama-free, and I’m standing by that decision. I’ll be over in the comfy chair, writing.

I hope everyone has a similarly quiet, productive, and peaceful day.

Here, have some pictures of cats being quiet and peaceful.

Saturday into Sunday

So, yesterday was all about transferring files from Moose to the new-as-yet-nameless desktop.

There were a few heartstopping moments, such as when I thought the new hire was DOA, but the ritual flapping of hands while speaking the relevant incantations produced the revelation that the new screen was the problem, and that problem was? A badly seated HDMI-1 cable.  This particular screen, whose makers apparently harbor Lofty Ideas of one’s ambition, came with two HDMI cables. Installing the second fixed the problem.

At the moment, Moose is hooked up in the living room, with the new screen, and the new hire is here at my desk with the old but still completely functional old screen.

While all those adventures were taking place, my next door neighbors came by with their snowblower and got the driveway sorted, for which I am very grateful.

Also, catching up yesterday’s events — a kind friend sent me not only a baking stone, but a pizza stone.  These join the kneading board which had been given by another friend a few weeks ago.  I am now reading to open my own bakery.  As soon as I get these cats out of here.

Yeah, right.

We’re now caught up on Saturday, and move on to —

Sunday. Cold and grey.

Breakfast was buttermilk biscuits with sausage and cheese. Lunch will be lentil soup.  Drinking my second cup of tea, and there’s a third in my near future.

I cannot tell you how much I’m hoping that the person who agreed to come and install programmable thermostats in this house actually comes and does that. It will be a marvelous thing to arise from my rosy bower to a house that’s warm and not have to shiver for an hour while temps achieve life-sustaining levels.

Last nigh, I realized that, of all the Stuff I did remember to back up for the new computer, I failed to download my Libreoffice user dictionaries, which, at this point in one’s writing career are extensive. So, that’s today’s Big Goal.

Other than that, I have a scene, and what’s probably a short story knocking around in my head, so I may try to sit quietly at a keyboard and see if one, or both, might like to have a chat.

I am reading Magpie Murders and I must say, if Alan was supposed to be a riveting writer with Christie-esque charm, it hasn’t shown up in what I’ve read so far.

Amazon pre-orders for Sea Wrack and Changewind stand at 158; Apple 10; BN 2; Kobo 9.

Here, have a picture of Firefly completing her Solo Hall Blocking Exam.

 

And the snow comes tumbling from the sky

Friday. Blue skies and cold.

Breakfast is a Kodiak bar and a cup of tea. Lunch will be lentil soup.

There’s about 2 inches of ice-topped snow on the ground. Ashley was to come today, but I told her to stay home until I find out if the new plow guy is going to join the long list of ghosts who have agreed to do stuff and then — well. Ashley reports no power at her house. I’m good, here.

We did not pursue magpies last night, as I got involved in finishing my read of Salvage Right while getting stuff into Dropbox so it can be uploaded to the new computer. I think I’ve got everything, but will be doing a review this morning, and if all is where it should be, I’ll proceed with the changeover, after which I’ll be able to start the next book. Really, the timing on computer switch-out couldn’t have been more perfect. It’s *really* nerve-wracking when you have to shift data in the midst of writing a book or another big project.

So, the new Facebook terms of service mean that I will no longer be posting snippets there. I don’t know if I’ll be leaving the platform entirely. I’m not up on text-based social gathering places that are humane. Bluesky is nice, but it’s a Twitter-replacement, and limited by intent.

Be funny if we all got busted back to blogging.

So, that’s it — the Usual Chores, continue shifting computers, sign some bookplates, make some notes, find something else to read. A quiet day.

What’s your day look like?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Gaelic Storm, “Tell Me Ma.”

Here’s Firefly, overlooking the snow.

Three for a Girl

Thursday. US Thanksgiving Day. Cloudy, chilly. We here in Kennebec County rejoice under a Winter Weather Advisory, and anticipate between 2 and 6 inches of heavy, wet, snow.

Breakfast was cheese bread toast, cottage cheese, red grapes. Kettle on for second cup of tea. Lunch/Dinner will be Feast for One. I have turkey, gravy, smashed potatoes, dressing, squash, peas, cranberry sauce, roll, and a piece of apple pie bigger than my head.

Today, I will be laying out the paper edition(s) of Sea Wrack and Changewind. Layout counts as a relaxing activity. No, really, it does.

We watched Episode Three of Magpie Murders last night. Feeling a little impatient with Susan, but that might just be me. Will be watching Episode Four this afternoon or evening.

For those who coming in late, yes, indeed, my new computer is Very Small. No, it is not a Windows machine, nor yet a Mac. Yes, I do know that it runs POP Linux. In fact, the new machine replaces (almost exactly) the machine I’ve been running for the last six years, and which is still doing its job, absent an increased appetite for fans. I have purchased a new computer because this house (still) runs on computer power, and I wished to avoid the upcoming tariffs which will substantially increase the cost of, oh, everything. Pic of the cousins, below.

To everyone feasting and spending time with family today — joy and merriment. To those for whom this is Thursday — the same.

Two for Joy

Let’s see … Wednesday. Foggy and chill, weatherbeans calling for sun-through-clouds, later.

Firefly slept with me straight through last night; the third night she’s done so. I think I may be seeing a new schedule emerging, in which Trooper, backed by Rook, does the day-shift; then the all-hands rest/reading/viewing period following Coon Cat Happy Hour, with Firefly taking the night shift.

Breakfast was oatmeal, walnuts, the last of the peach jam. Just finishing up the first mug of tea. Lunch will be leftover soup mixed with rice to make it enough. The evening meal! will be a tomato sandwich, on account of I have sliced tomato that has to be used and I don’t wanna put it in the soup.

Today, my friends, is going to be a Day of Marvels. Or at least deliveries. Cat litter is said to be headed even now for the Cat Farm, as well as my new computer, and something from Amazon, which — honestly? — I have No Idea.

Speaking of, though: I should probably order in a usb hub for the living room. *writes on list* And once again, I thank those who thoughtfully sent me Amazon gift cards. You guys have been life-savers.

Aside from waiting on deliveries, I need to change out the tablecloth, and wash a load of towels and suchlike. At 3:30ish, I’ll go cross-town — a matter of 3.5 miles — to Governor’s to pick up my Feast for One, for tomorrow’s lunch. Around all that — one’s duty to the cats, signing some bookplates, and finish reading Salvage Right. Not an arduous day, which is good. Yesterday kinda wiped me out.

Last night, the cats and I viewed the second episode of Magpie Murders. We remain amused. Trooper’s distrust of Andreas would seem to be justified. Again, I liked the montage of the writer at work, and in fact liked the writer, which was echoed in the clue “Everyone who read Alan, loved him. Everyone who knew him, did not.” Also, it’s not often I’m jealous of visual media, but I would give … a lot … to be able to reproduce in prose the “O!” moment, when the present-day red car went zipping through the intersection just ahead of Mr. Pund’s 1955 … Triumph, maybe? We will be continuing.

In the spirit of burying the lede: There had been some interest expressed by ebook consumers in the matter of signed bookplates for Diviner’s Bow. (Those who are preodering hardcovers from Uncle will receive a plate with their book.) I spoke to Jason at Baen, and he is very kindly sending me 100 bookplates that will be available to those who send me a SASE (this is old-time writer code for Stamped, Self-Addressed Envelope). I will speak of this at greater length, and in more detail, in future. Consider this your Distant Early Warning.

Sea Wrack and Changewind: All of the Archers Beach Stories preorders now stand at 133. Thanks to everyone who has preordered. The ebook will be available from All The Usual Suspects on December 17.

And that gets us to the end of my news.

What’s yours?