Tag: the writing 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?

One for Sorrow

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. The weatherbeans are adamant in their prediction of rain. We Shall See.

Trash and recycling at the curb. Did gym-like things at the gym. Car gassed up. Cat browsing stations replenished. Dishwasher emptied. Second cup of tea to hand.

Breakfast was … hours ago, actually. Um. Ah. Cottage cheese, grapes, toasted cheese bread. Lunch will be beanloaf and gravy over bread with a side salad.

Picked up yesterday’s mail today (yes, yes, but I don’t care to walk up to the street in the Stygian Darkness of 4:30pm, which is when my mail is typically delivered. I’m not expecting anything so precious that it can’t wait until tomorrow morning.) Progressive Insurance wants to sell me auto insurance, naturally, but they also want to sell me pet insurance, which — is a thought.

Those who have pet insurance — pros and cons?

ALL of the cats slept with me last night and who can blame them? It was cold.

Before that, we all watched the first episode of Magpie Murders, and enjoyed ourselves. Trooper is not impressed with Andreas, FWIW, and I’m a little uneasy, myself. I want to like him, but . . . . Firefly likes Mr. Pund, but then, she likes older men. Rook liked the magpies — family connections, I think.

I — am puzzled, but willing to continue to play. I did like the montage of the Writer at Work — very true to life, except Alan’s hand-drafts seemed much cleaner than any hand-draft has a right to be. The mysteries are interesting. I had been fearing a rewrite of Naked Once More, but we don’t seem to be going there.

Susan is — an editor. Who works for an agenting firm, and who obviously comes from money, because — that flat! And — she’s an editor. She reads client manuscripts curled up in a pretend comfy chair, and at the dining room table. In all of that flat there is no office.

Second episode penciled in for this evening.

Other than that, I have a List, and I’d better get to work.

What’s everybody doing today?

A Mischief of Magpies

Monday. Sunny and chill.

Breakfast was a tomato sandwich on toasted cheese bread and red grapes. Still drinking my first cup of tea. Lunch is — I have leftovers to choose from; no need to be hasty.

So, I didn’t get to the Magpie Murders last night; I sat down to read “a few pages” of Salvage Right — have you guys read this? It’s good. — to refresh myself before I go too far down an interesting idea-road for the next book I need to write. Maybe tonight.

Today’s chores include one’s duty to the cats, a visit to the chiropractor, the post office, and the grocery store — I ran out of milk; this never happens. And I don’t seem to have any just plain ol’ all-purpose flour, so that can’t stand, and yanno? Flowers might be nice. Haven’t had flowers in the house for a bit.

I’ll also be staging the trash in the garage for tomorrow’s journey to the curb. And, since I never got ’round to it yesterday, cleaning up my computer desktop and making backups for transfer to the new computer, when it arrives.

The weatherbeans are talking snow on Thursday, which isn’t the best timing in the world, and that event would seem to be Winter’s Clarion Call, because, after, temps are apparently going to move sharply downward, and keep sliding.

. . .and that’s about all I’ve got to say for myself this morning. The cats are trying out the various sunspots, and Trooper is explaining . . . something to me. Probably the cure for cancer. When are we getting that translation program?

Everybody have a good day.

Here, have some music.  “The Thieving Magpie Overture,” Rossini, Utah Youth Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Barbara Scowcroft