the writing life – Page 25 – Sharon Lee, Writer

In which there will be the baking of bread

What went before: Still not finished the story, but! I feel much better about the story as a whole. It’s a rare wonder what the Active Voice will accomplish. I know I keep saying this, but! Maybe I’ll finish it tomorrow.

Also, I could really feel my brain clicking along, rather than struggling for each paragraph, so, yanno, I may be able to write a book sometime realsoonnow.

Onward!

Saturday. Sunny and the ‘beans are calling for a high of 24F/-4C.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with ham, cheese, onions, and toast. Kettle’s on for my second cup of tea. Lunch will be chili.

Today I’m working on the story, but, also! I intend to bake French bread this weekend. I was going to get into making bread every week, but the Lightning Turnaround on Diviner’s Bow, followed by getting sick, twice, kind of threw those rosy plans into the bin.

This recipe is a little tricky because you have to make the poolish the night before and let it rest overnight at “room temperature.” Overnight “room temperature” here at the Confusion Factory is 60F/16C, which is a little cool for dough, and of course the silly electric stove doesn’t have a pilot light (yes, yes, still bitter about having to give up my lovely propane stove). I guess I’ll just cover it and set it in the microwave to rise.

Assuming all goes well, and the poolish rises as should, this will be the inaugural use of the baking stone. I really hope I can pull this off; the batards I made at King Arthur Flour school were amazing, and I’ve been wanting more ever since I ate the last slice.

I also have a recipe for oatmeal blueberry lemon breakfast muffins that I’m wanting to try, but not today. I need to seek clarity of the differences between the “quick-cooking rolled oats” called for in the recipe and the Red Mill Old Fashioned Rolled Oats which is the household go-to.

Yeah, looks like I’m pretty much back online.

Those who follow the writing schedule should be aware that the deadline for the book after Diviner’s Bow (deadline=when I am to turn the book in) is April 15, 2026. This means there will probably not be a new Liaden book in 2026 (unless Baen opts to do the Lightning Thing again). I’m sorry about that, but I really need to protect my brain, which, aside the coon cats, is the Number One resource of the House.

Regarding The Big Cat Hunt — there is a cat show this weekend, so planning is on hold until next week. Watch the skies.

I think that’s all I’ve got.

What’s on the books for you this weekend?

Oh, hey, let’s do the Time Warp, again. Sharon Lee at Boskone 45. Photo by Steve Miller.

Low Goal Thursday

Shameless Self-Promotion: Remember! In Just! Five! Days! the audio edition of Sea Wrack and Changewind (ALL of the Archers Beach stories), by Sharon Lee, narrated by Alex Picard, will be available from Tantor Media. Here’s the link.

Thursday. Dim and warmer. By which I mean it was 5F/-15C when I woke up. Supposed to hit the dizzying high temp of 24F/-4C before quittin’ time.

Breakfast was ham and mustard on an English muffin, with grapes. Second cup of tea helped me write a letter. Lunch will be…damn, I knew the answer to that question — oh! Yam stirfry. Good day for it, looks like.

As reported elsewhere, I have an appointment to get my hairs cut this morning. Since I’m letting the tax packet rest, I intend to get with “Core Values” and finish the last scene. After that, maybe some straightening up of the living room, which still has laptops and notebooks scattered ’round. So, not a big day, goal-wise.

What are your goals, today?

She thought of heat; she thought of time

What went before: I worked on taxes yesterday, which was more challenging than I had expected. It’s not like Steve did the taxes, after all. But, in a normal year, this is the place where I would have started nagging him to get me those items and expenses that I did not have through doing the general house and business accounting. This would have gone on for . . . a while — there was some math involved in how long he would put me off before he believed that I was serious — and then the info would appear.

It just feels really wrong that I — have all that information in hand. Right now, and can proceed with adding/subtracting and filling in the blanks.

Onward!

Wednesday. Sunlight an orange glow behind the trees -9F/-23C. Weatherbeans calling for a high of 18F/-8C.

I’m evaluating my need to go out today. I don’t need anything from the grocery store that can’t wait until tomorrow, and while I really *do* need a haircut, I’ll not be receiving today. I haven’t been to the post office in almost two weeks, but I’m not expecting anything urgent, and the post office lobby, where the mailboxes are, is toasty warm, comparatively. On the other hand, tomorrow’s high of 25F/-4 isn’t going to be *that* much warmer. And on the gripping hand! I do *have* a Big Coat. Heck, I have TWO Big Coats — Steve’s parka, and my knee-length puffer coat.

It may come down to a coin flip at 10 am.

But, first! Breakfast. Which was! Cottage cheese with a side of muffin. And tea. Lunch will be leftover split pea, lentil, and ham soup. Kettle on for second cup of tea.

Cat search update: Three inquiries written; 1 answer in the negative received.

I feel — well, and am theoretically TNC (Theoretically Not Contagious). Hoping to stay that way. Though I will be masking when I go out.

If I don’t go out and do errands, then I’ll finish what I can of the taxes with the information in-house, after which it will be the long game of waiting for other people to get their acts together and send me paperwork.

If I do venture out into The Elements to accomplish my errands, then I’ll possibly take the rest of the day off, or maybe see if I can discover that last scene for the story that’s been in progress far too long so I can put it up on Splinter Universe.

. . . one of the things that’s been coming around on the guitar, as the vernacular has it, is the realization that I have wanted to be a writer since I was aware of “wanting to be” something. This predates Steve and cats, and I got to wondering how common that is, that people have known for their whole lives what they “wanted to be.”

So, I’m throwing it out to y’all — when did you (if you did) realize what you “wanted to be”?

Today’s blog post brought to you by Bill Morrissey, “Birches”

Rook joined me for breakfast. Not that he had any of my breakfast; he likes to sit on my lap while I finish my tea, and take a bath, because, yanno, bellies don’t clean themselves.

Herding Cats

What went before: Under Old Business: There have been ongoing discussions between the stakeholders here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory regarding whether or not to bring on a fourth cat. This continues a topic under discussion last February before we jumped from the Timeline That Made Sense to our present position on the Timeline That Doesn’t Make Sense.

Yesterday, the question was called, and all present voted ‘Aye’ with the provision that said new hire would be an older cat, which is to say, not a baby kitten, but a retiree or so-called “older” kitten. We also confirmed that said new hire should be a “kind” of cat — that is to say, a breed. This is nothing against shelter cats; Nicky, Hypatia, Kodi, Max!, and Scrabble were all shelter cats. However, it was felt that, with current crew in-house all being Maine Coons, it would be best to stick with a Clan that’s known to be mellow.

The Secretary of the Board has been directed to seek out possible new hires of the breeds Birman, Maine Coon, Ragdoll, Siberian. One such letter was written yesterday, and has received a reply in the negative.

And that brings us to!

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. Trash and recycling — isn’t that much, I’m lazy, it’s cold — so — next week.

Sun is pouring into my office, but it’s still chilly enough to warrant wearing The Big Fleece Sweater.

Breakfast was an English Muffin with seedless raspberry jelly, an orange, and tea. Kettle on for second cup of tea. Lunch will either be leftover soup, or something else.

I feel — fine. I still do have one day’s worth of meds to finish out, and knock wood that will be the end of that.

I’ve written to a cattery that we had spoken with before Steve died, and have a couple more, non-cat-related, letters to write, but today is mostly going to be dedicated to hitting the Tax Paperwork and seeing how much — and what — Stuff I still need before I can send it on to Gary the Accountant.

Firefly and Rook enjoyed an early game of tag, which Trooper opted out of. Trooper is presently on my copilot’s chair, snoring; Firefly went back to Steve’s office, and I believe I saw Rook heading down the hall to join her.

Summing up — a quiet day planned here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What are your plans for the day?

Doctor, Doctor, Mister MD

What went before: Yesterday was all errands all day. The cover art for Diviner’s Bow is with the framer, and I should have it back by mid-February. There came up for discussion the always interesting question of which band did the superior version of “Good Lovin'” — the Grateful Dead or the Young Rascals. Facebook is leaning toward the Rascals. I now open the question up to those reading here. Here’s the Dead’s version. Here’s the Rascals’ version.

Onward.

Tuesday. Cloudy and cool. Snowed a tiny bit on the overnight. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Woke up sneezing and hacking, so — no sewing circle for me today. Grr. I did mask everywhere I went yesterday, and a good thing too, I’m thinking.

Breakfast was an English muffin with cream cheese and an orange. I only have two of the little oranges left. *adds to list* Lunch will be … um.

Rookie decided to help me choose my day wear this morning, and as a result got locked in a closet for a few minutes. I called him; he answered; and I let him out. It’s nice to have a cat who answers when he’s called.

Having been let out, he had to go get Grandpa to Show Him, I suppose, but neither one could get the door open again.

So, I guess today is stay at home and poke at things, but not too energetically.

I think my next audiobook will be Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, another frequent reread for me. I finished reading Midlife in Gretna Green last night. I had a good time with it, and there are six (?) more, I hear.

The backbrain has been providing snips of scenes and various insights for the next book, so Not Writing is paying its dividends. I plan to continue Not Writing today.

What are your plans for the day?

In Which the Writer is NOT Writing

What Went Before: Last night, as part of the curriculum of Not Writing, I watched a show on PBS Passport called SAFE HARBORS, which is a tour of 65 Maine lighthouses (I note here that this is not all of the lighthouses in Maine, and also that I’ve been to/seen a surprising number of them). I urge everyone to find this show and watch it (I’m told it’s soon to come to YouTube). It’s not a documentary, there’s no narration, only music and these incredible, incredible views of the lighthouses.

Moving on to!

Friday. Chilly, lots of puffy white clouds moving fast across a mostly blue sky.

Tea brewing. Breakfast will be cottage cheese, corn flat (I’ve forgotten what they’re called — Thomas’ Toaster something. As a substitute for corn bread, it’s not. Next time, I’ll make my own. — and grapes. Lunch — I guess fish and — something.

I see there are as many as half-a-dozen folks admitting to having read Diviner’s Bow — thank you and I hope you had fun. Do remember the spoiler space, and to drop a review at Goodreads or other venue of your choice.

Regarding the spoiler space, I am going to vary. It has been the authors’ policy not to be involved in those discussions, merely releasing messages after a scan for politeness &c. This time, I have a Question Regarding Craft that you, the readers of this particular work, can help me with. So, I’ll be posing my question in the spoiler discussion, and I thank all participants in advance for your patience and your assistance.

Today is another No-I-Am-NOT-Writing Day. This is kind of hardcore, but I’ve got to get my brain back, and the best thing I know to do is Do Other Things. If the weather were more clement, I’d go for a drive, but I think that’s off the table. *looks out window at the wind shaking the crab apple tree* Yeah. Off the table.

What I will be doing is taking down the wreath, which has started to lose needles, and changing out the 2024 moon phase calendar for the 2025. Also, there’s rumors of the June royalties in the bank, so I’ll be doing some cash juggling.

I read an interesting article last night about the Five of Cups, which is typically rendered as a Card of Loss. In traditional decks, the image is of a figure and five cups, three of which are overturned; two remaining upright. The figure is focused on the overturned cups — thus the loss. However, the two unregarded cups, still full, sitting behind the figure, hint that all, perhaps, is *not* lost.

It will surprise no one here to learn that my favorite tarot deck is not a traditional deck, but the Halloween Tarot, which I find both joyful and accessible. In this deck, the suits are Pumpkins (Pentacles), Ghosts (Cups), Bats (Swords), and Imps (Wands).

The Five of Ghosts, then: a central figure, gazing downward, clearly disconcerted or sad; there is a bucket on the ground directly behind him. Around the figure are five ghosts, hovering in a sky with five stars. The ghosts are also disconcerted, following the central figure’s downward gaze. The black cat (which appears in all of the cards in this deck) is in the foreground, looking at the ghosts.

I was at first somewhat alarmed. Playful my deck might be, but it stringently adheres to the Language of the Tarot, and this card varied and not in a good way. It seemed to withhold the promise of those two, unspilled, cups, not only going against the Language, but the spirit of the deck itself.

So, I sat with the card for a while, and it came to me, finally, that one of the ghosts was not focused on the disaster, whatever it was. It was focused on the figure, and its arms were outstretched, as if it would offer comfort. And then, of course, there’s the bucket, sitting quietly — empty or full, but not spilled. The Language remains pure, and the card remains true to itself and the deck.

So, that.

What’s surprised you recently?

Wake-up cat census:

The Return of Winter, Part Three

What went before: Discussions yesterday led to the realization that Diviner’s Bow represents the fastest turnaround from manuscript to eARC that I, personally, have participated in. Bearing in mind that the book was due on November 15, this is the timeline: WIP handed in on October 28, line edits received on November 14, copy edits received on December 8, galleys received on December 23, eARC on-sale January 8.

No wonder I’m tired.

Also! for those who missed yesterday’s exciting announcement, you may now purchase, from Baen.com and only from Baen.com, the Diviner’s Bow eARC. Here’s your link.

As has been our pleasant custom, a private parlor for spoiler discussions has been opened so that those who read the eARC can talk about it without spoiling the story for those readers who prefer to wait for other editions to be published. Here’s the link to the Diviner’s Bow Spoiler Space.

That brings us current, I think, so! Onward to!

Thursday, grey and cold. Snowed a tiny bit on the overnight, enough to give the Long Backyard a Wintry Air.

Breakfast was oatmeal with raisins and walnuts. Second cup of tea brewing. Lunch will be chili.

I’m declaring myself flu-free; 24 hours off of Robitussin, hacking non-present, sneezing ditto, no fever for days.

Today is a No-I-Am-NOT-Writing day. The crazy rush on Diviner’s Bow — where I got the edit letter the day before the book was due — may have broken my brain. Not really. Only a sprain, I’m sure. Still, if this is going to be the New Crazy, I’m going to have to take steps to protect myself, so that I can deliver the books that are still under contract. It might be I’ll need to extend the extension for the next book, because I never did get the downtime (being sick is not downtime) I thought I was gaining after I turned in …Bow.

In any case — today I’ll be catching up around the house, changing out the cat fountains (which should have been done days ago, ref “sick” above, and my cats are saints) maybe watching a documentary about lighthouses if I can track it down again, and other Light non-writing Amusements.

I also need to give some consideration to on-going brain care. I’ve mentioned before that I have a very busy brain. If I don’t keep it occupied — not stressed, occupied — it turns on itself, which is … not optimal. For 46 years, I lived inside a vortex of intellectual and creative stimulation, and as much as that might’ve made other people crazy, it was what kept me functional.

Isn’t Life interesting?

Speaking of Interesting — Who’s finished reading Diviner’s Bow? Show of hands, if you please! *raises three hands*

That’s all I’ve got right now.

Here, have a picture of the back yard. What’s the weather where you are?

Day 5

Tuesday. Cold and dim.

Slept hard and late. So that‘s good.

I did not gather the trash and recycling yesterday, and am not going to do so this morning. Next week sees a return to Schedule.

Breakfast was muffin, orange, tea. Kettle on for second cup of tea.

Today, I’ll make a grocery order and have it delivered. I suppose I ought to do that earlier, rather than later. I also have a pile of stuff that was put aside for page proofs, which, yanno, I really don’t want to do, not least because they fall into that large category of things that are insipid and pointless to accomplish without Steve on-hand to offer insights, angles of approach, and random snipery.

I *would* like to spend some time with my story, so I may throw adulting to the wind and do that. What’s the point of being an adult if you don’t get to decide when NOT to adult?

I’ve started reading the 6th installment in Lord Julian’s adventures — A Gentleman of Unreliable Honor — and I’m beginning to get a little annoyed with him. This is either an artifact of having read so many in a row, or because I actually am feeling better and therefore more irritable (the author does now and then drop a narrative stitch; nothing major, and no business of mine, really, but I hit one during yesterday’s reading and gritted my teeth).

As reported elsewhere, the cats are at their stations.

. . . and so it goes.

How does it go with you?

Tuesday morning cat census:

In which the writer is cranky

Friday. Sunny and cold.

I’m feeling . . . a little unwell. Sore throat and iffy stomach. That was before the page proofs for the Ribbon Dance mass market landed. Jury’s still out on whether I’m going back to bed and pulling the covers over my head. I usually resist, but today I might just give in.

After the page proofs landed . . . there’s a scene in Carousel Tides, when Kate has just be informed by the park manager that the carousel not only has to be ready for the Season, but for a Super Early Season, like, Right Now. Her reaction is, and I quote: “We’re already pulling a rabbit out of a hat here, and now you’ve got the goddamn nerve to ask for a kangaroo?”

Yeah. Like that.

So, anyhoot, not really sure what I’m doing today, except cancelling my appointment with the chiropractor, because I do feel that bad.

How’re you doing today?

If this goes on…

Thursday. Coolish, cloudy, and intermittently breezy. Hoping that the wind dries all available outside surfaces, else we’ll have a skin of ice on everything as the weather starts its slide back into winter.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with cheese and salmon, rye toast on the side. Kettle on for the second cup of tea. Lunch…soup and a salad is my best guess at this time.

First load of laundry is in the dryer. I may have one more load to do; will look about me.

I had such fun yesterday staring into space and making notes, that I’ll be devoting a sizeable chunk of today for doing the same. Yesterday’s Great Writing Insight was that Shan is the thread that’s tying several, widely separated, story lines together, so, yanno, I’m glad we found a way to get Shan and trade and all that boring stuff that nobody wants to read about back into over-arc.

Which reminds me. This is your Occasional Reminder that! just because an author writes about A Thing, does not mean she “believes in” That Thing. We may for instance, write about discrimination, or clone armies, faster-than-light drives, or — oh, cake! Do we think it’s All Good? Well — no. Or — not necessarily.

For one thing, stories without challenges for the characters to meet — big challenges, little challenges, doesn’t make that much difference, though I prefer a mix — are boring, for the characters, the writer, and the reader. This is why stories have bad guys, or bad systems, or, I dunno, bad plumbing.

But more importantly, writers write about all kinds of things, as those things catch our attention, and we almost always write in the service of our Prime Directive, which is — anybody?

Yes, you, back there in the penguin hat. I’m sorry — wh– Yes, exactly! Thank you.

IF THIS GOES ON.

If a particular situation here-stated continues unchecked — what can-or-might happen? There’s a story in that, and writers live to tell stories.

If I were feeling argumentative, which, believe it or not, I’m not — I might put forth the notion that the important question here isn’t what the writer “believes in” in a particular story, but what the reader takes from it. Who do you think the good guys are? Do you think protected populations and clone armies are a good idea? How about brainwashing as a way to control people who might be “too creative”? And so on. Granted, people — and I include myself, here — are rarely that insightful, but I think those are worthy questions to hold in reserve for introspective moments.

And, all that said — What’s everybody doing today?

Below, two pictures of Steve from January 1 2024, when he’d come into my office to tune his air guitar. (Copilot’s note: These are not sad pictures; this was not a sad occasion, just every day shenanigans. One of the pics is titled “Stevie ‘Guitar’ Miller” which is a play on something or ‘nother from that Other Steve Miller)