Tag: the writing life

Monkeying with the evidence

Sunday. Cold and bright.

Today is Rolanni Catches a Break Day. Not quite a Writer’s Day Off, but I intend to do some things that (1) have nothing to do with this manuscript, and (2) are possibly enjoyable.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with potato and onion, and a slice of homemade whole wheat toast. Lunch will be pork chop, butter beans, dressing.

Random Observation of Fact: Steve’s ring, which I had sized to fit the ring finger on my right hand, is now too big for that digit, and I’ve moved it to the second finger of my left hand, where it fits perfectly.

From the Annals of Feline Investigator Cookie Rookafeller, two items of possible interest to his fandom.

1. Every morning when I get up, I take a pill. This morning, I got up, and due to press of business, did not take the pill immediately. When I returned to the bedroom in order to ingest said medication, I found that Investigator Rookafeller had knocked the bottle to the floor and rolled it halfway down the hall in the direction I had taken re business.

2. I store unbroken boxes behind the sofa in the snow annex until I can get around to flattening them and taking them out to the garage/recycling bin. There is one such box in that position now. This morning, as I passed by to open the curtains, I looked into the box, and saw one of the grey foxes that make up part of the cats’ holdings in the box. I took him out and put him on the floor. Investigator Rookafeller *rushed* over from his resting place, grabbed the fox by the scruff, jumped into the box, placed the fox under a wad of packing material, jumped out, LOOKED at me, and went back to where he had been napping. . . . Right. No monkeying with the evidence, Monkey.

I hope everybody has a lovely day. I may or may not be around. Do feel free to visit among yourselves.

On the occasion of Trooper’s 15th Birthday

Saturday. Bright and cold, but most importantly? It is December 14.

This is Trooper’s 15th birthday. The celebrations began early with the Birthday Cat taking his place on the Living Room Observation Post, where, after careful study, he was able to report with confidence that the garden, the lawn, and the maple trees were correctly placed. He then withdrew to share a teaching breakfast with his grandson. He’s now asleep on the copilot’s chair.

In Shameless Self-Promotion, Sea Wrack and Changewinds PAPERBACK retains the coveted #1 New Release banner for its placement in Fantasy Short Stories. The EBOOK edition, which drops on December 17, rejoices in 392 total preorders.

Today, is all about reading galleys, interspersed with one’s duty to the cats, changing the bed, and figuring out what’s for lunch. (Breakfast, for those keeping score, was oatmeal with walnuts and raisins, because Food is Boring. It strikes me that I would not make a very good Haosa.)

Possibly, I’ll knock off early and watch “Red One.” Or, yanno, not.

Which leads to the question — What’s your favorite seasonal movie? I rather liked “While You Were Sleeping,” and I know there’s much fondness for “Die Hard” — but, else?

Picture of the Birthday Cat:

Are you a Wonder, or a Marvel?

First, let’s get the Shameless Self-Promotion out of the way.

The PAPERBACK edition of Sea Wrack and Changewind: All of the Archers Beach short stories, by Sharon Lee, is now on sale at Amazon. Here’s the link.

The EBOOK edition of Sea Wrack and Changewind will drop on December 17. It may be preordered now from All The Usual Suspects, and/or bookmarked at Baen for purchase On The Day.

Note that the above describe two different editions of the same book.

Yesterday’s wrap-up, short form: It was warm and sunny; it was windy and snowy. I read galleys, then went out to take on ice melt, cat food and a wreath. Eventually collapsed onto the couch, with cats spotted ’round the living room and listened to The Goblin Emperor.

Which brings us to!

Friday. Sunny and cold.

The toaster oven is heating so I can warm some naan for my breakfast, which will include hummus, and an orange.

I would like to sing the praises of programmable thermostats. What a pleasure to get up and the house is already warming nicely, and I don’t have to race around the house, teeth chattering, to set up the heat, then pile on layers to keep warm while station temps rise to acceptable levels.

The lack of needing to race around &c has messed with Rook’s schedule. He had become accustomed to running down the hall to Steve’s office ahead of me, waiting while I did the needful, then running ahead of me to the thermostat in the laundry room, then the thermostat in the Great Intersection, and finally into my office. I guess I could still do the route, and keep him — and me — in shape.

I’ll go to gym a little later this morning, to let *outside* warm up, then I’ll be home to read galleys.

Not a particularly exciting day, but mine own.

We used to ask each other occasionally, it not being the sort of question you can ask every day — “Are you a Wonder, or a Marvel?” I haven’t much been feeling either, but these questions shouldn’t be altogether lost, and so I put it to you —

Are you a Wonder, or a Marvel?*

Behold, the Yule wreath, decorated and sublime.

They call me the breeze

Thursday. Calm blue skies, damp surfaces. It was 55F/13C when I went to bed at 10:30 last night. It’s now 33F/0ishC and heading for a high of 38F/3C.

We had a pretty fierce windstorm last night, but seem to have done pretty well. I see limbs down at the neighbor’s house, and some sticks down hereabouts, but nothing big came down; the windows held, and so did the roof.

Victory.

Diviner’s Bow galleys arrived last night after I was in bed, so I ate breakfast at my desk in order to sort them out*. That means breakfast was a Kodiak Bar (chocolate with chocolate chips), and a cup of tea, which is Skirting A Line, but — needs must. Kettle’s on for second cup of tea. Next on my to-do list is picking up so Ashley has clearance in which to work her cleaning magic, while I?

Read Diviner’s Bow for the third time in three weeks. Whee.

And that’s it from here — galleys carry all before them.

Everybody get comfy — you know the drill. I’ll poke my head in as can.

________
*Because time is so short, there will not be a General Call for Tyop Hunters.

Today’s blog title via JJ Cale, “They Call Me The Breeze“

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.