the writing life – Page 4 – Sharon Lee, Writer

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.

And it’s the night people’s job to take the day people’s money

What went before: Yesterday went from bad to worse, and I took a couple hours out in the afternoon to sip hot chocolate and stare out the window, then watch Rook play with his robot mouse. This toy had terrified him as a baby kitten, but yesterday, he deliberately knocked it off the shelf where it has been rusticating for months, and tried kicking it up and down the hall, so I turned it on and let it run until the charge failed. He had a great time with it, and knew immediately to pick it up by its tail and get it into a open run space when it got (as it frequently does) stuck in a corner.

Wednesday. Sunny and cold.

Breakfast was hummus, naan, apple sauce. Something will leap out of the fridge for lunch, I’m sure.

First thing, I need to talk to somebody about a Confusion of Rights, to which I hope they have a definitive answer. Files under Why Writers Drink.

After my phone call, and hopefully armed with Answers, I need to write a letter. Then, I will be going over the damned tax packet *again* and if all looks good will be delivering it to the accountant’s office, and from there to the grocery to take on food and wine.

I got up early (after 7.30 hours of sleep; someone was concerned that I was not getting enough rest with all these early hours. The fact is that getting up early begets going to bed early, and I, a lifelong Night Person, am now apparently a Day Person, something I’m not particularly happy about, but here we are.), and have already written one letter, so progress is progressing.

Way back when the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory was still in its Country Location, I discovered that there’s a Life Limit on how much coffee one person can imbibe, and, what with years of mainlining the stuff, I had hit that limit. That was when I switched to tea, and Steve, after watching in Stark Terror every time I poured boiling water from a saucepan into a mug (and pretty often over the countertop, too), bought me an OXO Stainless Steel Whistling Tea Kettle with a Geniune Cork Covered Handle.

I love the OXO tea kettle, but it, like me, is starting to show its age, and I thought to get another (because, honest, if me pouring boiling water out of saucepan into a mug was scary ten years ago, it’s only gotten worse. Even *I* get short of breath when I do it.). OXO of course, does not make this tea kettle any more, and I wound up with a Mr. Coffee Whistling Tea Kettle, and may I just say? What a piece of junque. I mean, yes, I’m spoiled; we’ve discussed this, and Steve always bought The Best, whether we could afford it or not — but Mr. Coffee has not achieved a 10 year tea kettle.

On the other hand, given the on-gong axe-work against society and human beings, 10 years may not be something I have to worry about.

Below, another photo from last night — you can see that Tali and Firefly have Made An Accommodation — Firefly on *her* side against my hip, and Tali on *her* side, from hip to knee.

It was all very comfortable.

What makes you comfortable, lately?

Today’s title brought to you by Ray Wylie Hubbard, and there’s a story that goes with that. I remembered the line about the night people’s job being to take the day people’s money, but not the title of the song. I asked the internet, which served me up “Rabbit” which was not the song I’d been thinking of, but which I like on its own terms. A little more digging got me the song I was after, “Nighttime.”

Many cat pictures below. I note that Tali and Firefly are working out the evening reading positions.

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.

They don’t give a damn about any trumpet playing band

What went before: Hired somebody to maintain korval.com, which is an enormous load off my shoulders.

Waiting in my email this morning was a note from NESFA (New England Science Fiction Association); Tony Lewis has left us. Tony and Suford let Steve and me park our car at their house for a week and took us to the train station so we could attend our first convention as Guests of Honor, Silicon, in 1998. Chatting with him and Suford was always a high point at Boskone.

Thursday. Frizzling (freezing drizzle, looks like). Once again the Big Storm wore itself out before it got to us.

Breakfast was PB&J on English muffin. Second cup of tea is brewing. Lunch will be — eh. No, wait. I got spaghetti and meatballs out of the freezer last night. Ta-da! Lunch.

So, I was flattened by the time I’d finished eating the evening meal, so I just took my book and a mug of tea and went to bed, where I was immediately joined by four cats, who immediately went to sleep. I read for a while, then shoved the propping pillow to one side, and joined them. So that was good. Next lesson: I’m going to have to stop thinking that 6:00 is early if I go to sleep at 10.

First up today is sitting by the window, watching the … frizzle frizz … and sketching in some scenes (y’all know that when I say things like “doodling” and “sketching” it means making notes and hand-drafting scenes, not actually doing art? Just wanted to clear that up.) This may actually be the only thing, aside one’s duty to the cats, and feeding myself lunch, that actually gets accomplished today, and if so, sobeit.

So, that’s it for me. Over to you.

Below the requested photos of the classy new cat bowls, provided by a Mystery Friend.

Today’s blog post title comes to you from Dire Straits, “The Sultans of Swing.” Historical note: I was on my way to Steve’s house, and this song “previewed” on the radio, so that almost the first thing I said to Steve after he let me in was, “I just heard this incredible song! Sultans of –” And Steve turned to his record player, picked up an album cover (Steve having been a music reviewer, he got free albums) and handed it to me. “I was just listening to it, when you knocked.” I happened to hear it on the radio this morning during breakfast.

Sitting by the window, watching the snow fall

What went before: I cleared all the backed up paperwork. fingers crossed

Wednesday. Sunny and cold. The three youngers are having Da Zooms. Trooper is asleep in his copilot’s chair; he’s exhausted from having to wake me at 3:30, 4:30, and 5:15. I don’t blame him; I slept in after he gave up.

Breakfast was cottage cheese, grapes, and toast. Yeah, I was lazy. Lunch may be a salad ( ref “lazy”).

We here in Central Maine are looking for Severe Weather in the form of ice-and-snow from midnight through tomorrow afternoon. I suppose the Path of Wisdom is to reschedule Tali’s meet ‘n greet. She still doesn’t reliably let me pick her up, believing, as she apparently does, that I’m going to be putting her in a cat carrier and Taking Her Somewhere (nor would she, in the case, be wrong), and adding in the weather just puts too much angst on all concerned.

As above, Tali is still a bit unsettled. She wants to sit on my lap, but then she remembers that I could be working for the Other Side, and jumps down. She leapt up onto the couch last night to join Firefly and me. Firefly was very courteous; they touched noses like civilized felines, then Tali began to knead. This process went on far too long for Firefly’s nerves and she left. Whereupon Tali left, and though she visited me several times during the evening, she would no sooner sit on my lap than need to leap up and Go See. i didn’t see Firefly again until I went to bed, and found her curled up against my pillow. I slipped in beside her; she purred, and I went to sleep.

What else? Ah. Video chat with the cyber-pro this afternoon. One’s duty to the cats, and perhaps a short walk.

I have taken the decision to doodle in the scenes as they occur to me for the next bit, then move them around until they all snap into the right place. Frequent readers of this space will recall that this is the technique I used to write Salvage Right, though at the time I wasn’t thinking it would be necessary to write ALL Jen Sin books in the same way.

There were calls in various places for photos! of the cats’ elegant new dishes. I’m not ignoring these requests, but the dishes are currently in the dishwasher, getting washed. Watch the skies.

I think that’s everything. I’m awaiting Friday with interest, to see if my SSA payout arrives in the bank, and I’m trying not to look ahead to next Thursday.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm.

What’s your news?

Cats at work:

Today’s blog post also brought to you by Laurie Anderson, backed up by Peter Gabriel. “Excellent Birds,” or, if you prefer, “This is the Picture.” Link.