the writing life – Page 4 – Sharon Lee, Writer

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)

Begin as you mean to go on

Wednesday. Raining and warm(ish).

The first day of a new year. Begin as you mean to go on.

On this day in history, Steve had just given me his draft of “Familiarity,” commissioned for the ZNB Familiars anthology. I spent the rest of the day reading it, tweaking it, and trimming it.

Breakfast today will be oatmeal, because — have you looked out that window? Lunch will be pre-planned chicken pot pie.

I have some various bits ‘n bobs to do at the computer, as well as some housekeeping (first load of laundry is washing, for instance), and I’ve scheduled some time curled under the blanket with pen and notebook and notes for the next book.

How are you beginning the new year?

Rook at work:

Last Day of 2024

Tuesday. Grey and cool. There is no snow in the Long Back Yard, though there is a skim of ice on the front steps. Trash and recycling at the curb. First cup of tea in hand.

Breakfast is destined to be a PB&J on an English muffin with a follow of red grapes. And more tea, naturally. Lunch — I have so many options for lunch. Really, I’m embarrassed.

So far this morning, Rookie has played fetch — he’s really good at bringing the ball and placing it at my feet — tried to lay claim to the deer antler that has been sitting peaceably on a lower bookshelf for years, and peeled all the sticky notes off of the to-do list. Sigh. A Morning Kitten. *Just* what I need.

I finished *another* book last night — Lord Julian is a quick read, so that puts me at 61 books on the year (57, if we don’t count endless rereads of Diviner’s Bow and a re-read of Salvage Right). I do have the third Lord Julian on deck, but, really, I’m not finishing that one today.

This morning is sewing at St. Mark’s. This will be my first foray, I hope of many; and I have an appointment with the chiropractor in the afternoon. And that neatly accounts for my day, give or take a chore or two.

This is the last day of a very bad year, and I stand in dread of what next year will bring, because, absent a death or two, it’s looking to be worse.

What are your anticipations for the new year?

I have a story . . .

So, I was straightening some shelves the other day, as one does, and a battered little tan pamphlet fell to the floor. I bent to pick it up, and smiled at The Naming of Kinzel, the very first Lee-and-Miller indie published chapbook, with a cover by Colleen Doran. Being unsure of this publication’s actual date — before or after Agent of Change? — I flipped it open to the copyright page, and found that this wasn’t just any random copy of …Kinzel, but my particular copy — #1 of a limited edition of 300 — signed to me by one of the authors.

Here’s the page in question:

As you can see, the chapbook was published in June 1987. A year before our first novel was published. Seven years after we married; a decade after we had declared to All Possible Universes that WE ARE US, and let the sparks fall where they may.

Several things drew Steve and me together: a love of irony and a keen sense of the ridiculous; a love of music, and of reading — and this idea that being a writer was a goal worth achieving. No, more than that: Writing was a shared dream, and a shared reality; it was the glue of our partnership, and what kept us together, tight, and committed to each other, for 46 years.

Over those years, people would sometimes ask how our marriage had survived the pressures, the competitiveness, of a two-writer household. And the answer was that marriage was — secondary to who we were. First, we were co-authors — companions — partners — in the adventure of creating. We were married, yes, for tax purposes and for the demands of so-called Real Life, but honestly, we dealt with Real Life as little as possible.

For Sharon, that inscription reads, the very first, with love — may we stay happily in print for a hundred years — Steve

And there it is — love and writing, and us, entwined and inseparable. That’s who we were, living a very rich, very fantastical, life, of our own devising.

Steve and I had many rituals, as I suppose that most partners do. One was the evening toast, “To the Plan!” or, as it came to be in later years, when ill health and threats of mortality began to assault our walls — “To the Plan — as it may be amended from time to time.”

But, you’re saying, what was this Plan?

The Plan was to stand together, to tell stories, and to have fun.

Not much of a Plan, in the scheme of things, but it was ours. We reveled in being grasshoppers, in living with and for the day, in not looking over our shoulders, to see what might be gaining. Carpe Diem, yes? And we had also agreed that we would keep on writing, as long as it was fun.

The Plan was not so much amended as destroyed, back in February. I was, thank Goddess, already well-invested as the lead writer for the next book when Reality came due. Against all odds, Diviner’s Bow was fun to write.

So, I’m getting ready, now, to write another book, set in the place we built together, out of love, and commitment, and joy. No question, I’m lead writer on this one, and I’m looking forward, and trying not to look over my shoulder.

Last Saturday of the year

Saturday. Cloudy, warmer, and heading for the giddy high temp of 35F/2C.

Breakfast was cream cheese on rice crackers with cherries. I have the second mug of tea and the last two sugar cookies here with me at the desk. Lunch will be spaghetti (yes, yesterday’s lunch was supposed to have been spaghetti, but then Plan B went into effect. As it does.).

Today, there will be writing. Given yesterday’s experience, I make no predictions whether or not this will produce a finished draft. I also have a roll of cookie dough in the fridge, so there may be cookie baking, ref “last two sugar cookies” above. P’rhaps a blog post. At some point, I need to Seriously Look At the tax packet, but today is not that day.

Several people have asked me now if I’ll be at Boskone in February. I thought I had answered this, but, in the interests of clarity — No. No, I won’t (will not) be at Boskone. There are several reasons for this — the Actually Getting There being one, and the fact that I’m not much good on panels anymore, between the whole Old thing, and being out of touch with Current Enthusiasms. I’m always happy to read to people, but it’s a long, heartbreaking trip for 30 minutes of pleasure.

I do hope to read to people, and possibly even to chat, online next year. More on that, pending productive thought.

And that’s all I’ve got, on this, the last Saturday of 2024.

What’ve you got?

Accidents will happen

Friday. Sunny and Cold.

Went to bed at midnight — not something I’ve done for awhile — and therefore slept until 8. Breakfast was cream cheese on an English muffin with cherries. Second cup of tea at hand. Lunch will be … I have spaghetti left over, and so A Plan is born.

Rook and I have had a miscommunication. He was chewing on my jeans, and I slid my finger into his mouth to make him stop — which is how we’ve been handling “don’t chew on that” for months with no problems on either side. This morning, however, instead of opening his mouth, he bore down, and broke the skin, very slightly. It bled freely and I encouraged that, then cleaned and bandaged. It’s quite a small wound, and Rook is very apologetic. I will be keeping an eye on it.

In other news, I need to at least start changing out the cat boxes this morning, while also not screwing up my back again, so that’s change one each day for the next four days. Slow and steady wins the race. Sigh. I also need to fetch in last night’s mail, but it can warm a little before I undertake the hike across the tundra. The glamour. Truly, I don’t know how anyone survives at these heights.

Mostly, today, I’m going to write, with an eye to finishing the first — well. Draft 2.5 — of the story today. I note that the story has wriggled around sufficiently that the working title no longer fits, so I’ll also be looking for a new title,

And that’s it, from the sunny middle of Maine.

What’ve you got going today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Elvis Costello, “Accidents Will Happen”

Below, a sunny morning in Maine:

Sunny morning with oatmeal

Um. Thursday (not Monday). Sunny and heading for a high of 30F/-1C on the day.

Breakfast was oatmeal with raisins and walnuts. Second cup of tea is brewing, and I have a sugar cookie standing by. Ashley’s due in at 10, so I should pick up cat toys and such-like in a bit. I have leftovers in the fridge, and! salad stuff, so — Choices for lunch.

Last night, I figured out (I mean, it’s not hard; the instructions are right there on the internet) how to forward calls coming in to the so-called “landline” to my cellphone, in an attempt to solve the one-handset-short problem. It will also serve as a test-run, i.e. Do I really need the landline? I think it’s just part of the Fidium package, so that will be more informational than, “Gee, I can save some money by getting rid of this.”

Last night, I also finished reading Alliance Unbound, and if you couldn’t hear me yelling, “NoNoNoNOOOOO — DO NOT– oh HELL, JR!” you must’ve had the music up ‘way loud.

I have this morning updated my Books Read in 2024 List. I doubt I’ll finish another book between now and the changing of the year. I have A Gentleman Fallen on Hard Times cued up, so it could be that I’ll finish it in a couple days. As matters stand at the moment, I read 59 books in 2024 — that includes three separate post-submission readings of Diviner’s Bow, and a prep reading of Salvage Right). For those who are curious about what else I read, the list is here

Today’s to-do includes picking up for Ashley, writing a letter, working on the short story — and of course, performing one’s duty to the cats. That’s it. Almost a lazy day.

I will pause here to ask for an end-of-year present. If you have read any Lee-and-Miller, Miller, or Lee book during 2024, please consider leaving a review — or several reviews. Thank you for your help.

And now, the question! What’s going on with you today?

And their eyes full of tinsel and fire

Wednesday. Google would have me believe it sunny. Google has an interesting take on “sunny.” Cold, yes. We agree on cold.

First mug of tea is to hand, and I’m again indulging in sugar cookies while I type this missive. Breakfast will eventually be a scrambled egg and an English muffin. P’rhaps even a scrambled egg on an English muffin, with a slice of cheese — yeah, that sounds good. Planned lunch is spaghetti and meatballs. Because I like spaghetti and meatballs.

Read a little late last night, with Classic Vinyl playing in the background. Kudos to Earle Bailey, who stuck to hoary old rock ‘n roll, with perhaps two seasonal songs, one of those being “I Believe in Father Christmas,” of which I happen to be rather fond. Thank you, Earle, for a pleasant evening.

The Thing that I Most Want To Do today is! Write. Truly, I haven’t been able to write anything for weeks now and that’s not how to Stay the Course *or* Stay on Target. So, today, I’m going to devote to writing new words, even if it means eating a cheese sandwich for lunch today and spaghetti tomorrow. Merry Christmas, from me to me.

I am going to have to go outside at some point after it “warms up” to deal with the snow berm against the garage door; fingers crossed that will be relatively easy.

Trooper is asleep in the copilot’s chair. Firefly and the Lord High Rookifer are back in Steve’s office, singing carols, I think.

I hope everyone has a pleasant day, doing what you most want to do.

Today’s blog title brought to you by Greg Lake, “I Believe in Father Christmas”

Below, a picture of the author in all her winter sartorial elegance. Blessed Be.

In Which the To-Do List is Rewritten

What Went Before: Yesterday saw the delivery of the proof copy of the hardcover Sea Wrack and Changewind, which I Examined With Interest, Found Good, and removed the hold on publication at Amazon. Remember this plot point.

Also yesterday, I took delivery of my Yule present to the Pixel 9 Pro, which for some inexplicable reason does not have a headphone jack — a pretty blue JBL wireless headset, which is a Thing of Wonder, and I am at its feet. Figuratively, since headsets, no matter how Awesome, do not of course have feet.

Also, I did not rewatch Red One last night; I read, and played with my new headset.

Which brings us to!

Monday. Cold. Grey-blue skies.

I did wake up early, but I did not leap out of bed to go to the grocery store. I can go out in 2F/-17C, but milk is not an emergency.

Breakfast was the last cinnamon bun, with a chaser of cottage cheese. Second cup of tea brewing.

Have performed one’s Duty to the Cats. Dishwasher in operation. Trash and recycling is in the garage, awaiting tomorrow morning’s trip to the curb.

I have a very early appointment tomorrow with the cardiologist, which — I’d kinda been hoping that they’d call it off, since the doctor has already informed me, through a proxy, that afib reports from toy watches are NOT reliable, I should get myself a kardia, and also he’s ordering in another 30-day monitor, and will call when it’s in. But — no. Appointment still on. This will be with, I may add, Steve’s cardiologist, so — lots of fun tomorrow morning.

Amazon reports Many, MANY Problems with the formatting of the hardcover Sea Wrack…, all of which relate to Amazon’s comfort and have nothing to do with the viability of *the book* which, as reported, is fine. I may or may not be able to fix these issues, and in either case, Not Soon. There are many things in queue before it. I apologize for Raising Hopes, but we’re back to — The Hardcover May Not Happen.

So! The Amended Plan for Today:

DO: Chiropractor at 10:30, stop at PO, stop at grocery, call bank, log typos. Cuddle cats.

DO NOT: Throw things.

TRY: There is no try.

What’s on your To-Do List?

Obligatory cat picture: The Rookie at home

A minute a day

Sunday. It’s cold, and very bright. Tiny bit of snow on the ground, which ought to please the Season Purists.

Breakfast was a slightly overdone biscuit with sausage patty and cheddar cheese, with one of the little oranges on the side. Rookie is having the time of his life with the sticker that came off of the little orange and hit the floor sticky side down. … eventually, I’ll have to do something about that, but let the kid have his fun.

Lunch — I think there’s black bean soup in the freezer downstairs. Will forage later.

I was up early and stripped the bed, then got involved in buying audiobooks on sale. My strategy is to buy in audio books that I’ve re-read multiple times. This has thus far netted me, in addition to The Goblin Emperor — Cuckoo’s Egg, The Masqueraders, Brat Farrar, Witness for the Dead, Agnes and the Hitman, These Old Shades, Getting Rid of Bradley, Fakin’ It, The Grand Sophy, and so forth. I was … surprised to find These Old Shades for $0.00/included with my membership, but — OK.

It occurred to me this morning that The Plan Steve and I had regarding replacing the windows in this house — while a Good Plan of its kind — is not something I’m not going to be able to finish. We managed the big windows in the living room, and my office windows. But that leaves a helluva lot of windows left to do, this having previously been a Temple to Lugh. My pockets are not quite to let, but I don’t want to get there. Well. A project for the next owners. I’m sure they’ll thank me for thinking of them.

Today’s To-Do List includes, but may not be limited to! Logging Tyops, re-sheeting the bed, signing the accountant’s Letter of Engagement and getting it ready to mail, baking a batch of frozen sugar cookies, setting up the 2025 electronic accounting — and that may be it. Setting up the accounting is going to be … hard. Depending on how long all this takes, it might be a good idea to re-watch Red One.

So, that’s what’s going on at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s going on at your place?

Below is a picture of Trooper and Firefly simultaneously taking advantage of the snuggly new blanket and holding me firm on the couch. We get a lot of random gravity fluxes hereabouts, and if I’m stuck to the ceiling, I can’t perform my Primary Function of Feeding Cats, so this is a very practical move of their part.