writing – Sharon Lee, Writer

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:

Dancin’ in the dark

What went before: So, today’s work revealed to me that the niggling feeling that I had regarding something being off about the timing was, indeed correct. I need to recast a few scenes, but thank ghod I caught it this early in the process. If I’d written half a book incorporating this error, fixing it would have been a Nightmare.

I spoke with Eileen Stevens again this evening; she plans on beginning her narration of Diviner’s Bow this weekend.

Onward.

Oh, let’s see. Thursday?

Thursday. Dim and! It’s going to snow! Bah. BAH, I say.

Breakfast was oatmeal with inclusions of dried cranberry and walnuts. Lunch will be — I took some of that ham and pea soup out to defrost. If it’s gonna snow…

Today’s plans are to make the last of Steve’s bread kits that he squirreled away. This one is for a multigrain loaf. The flours and seeds are all premixed. I’ll be using my own yeast, rather than trust the little packet that came with. So, that should be good.

I have some PR to do, and a couple letters to write. Also, writing. I left myself a V. Cranky Note last night, to wit: WHAT TIME IS IT ON TINSORI LIGHT? Which — wow, talk about a head-scratcher.

Tonight is supposed to be my first ASL class, which is in-person at the high school. I’m hoping the snow just blows out to sea and leaves us to it. That would be nice.

The cats would have me believe that they are Out of Food. This is almost true, and they’ll be due for a refill about lunchtime.

I am still like The Plan that has me driving to Balticon, then stopping at Corning on the way home to do the glass museum for a couple days before coming home. If it still seems good tomorrow, I’ll have some reservations to make.

For those playing along at home: my ears have not fallen off, or turned red or black. I’m cleaning them three times a day, like it says on this sheet of paper here, and turning them per likewise.

This morning so far, Firefly and Tali have played a game of tag; Tali and Rook have played a game of tag; and Firefly has smacked Rook repeatedly on the head. Trooper is napping in the copilot’s chair.

And so it goes. Time to start the bread.

What’s the weather where you are today?

Today’s title brought to you by Bruce Springsteen, “Dancin’ in the Dark.”

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 wine for the woman who made the rain come

What Went Before: 901 new words today, and some rewriting of old words. Active voice, Sharon. Really; it make All the Difference. The total WIP now weighs in at +/-9,300 words, which is … OK.

Saturday. Sunny and already busy.

I Shout! Out! to the kind person who sent me a Penzey’s gift card. I had just been missing a couple things, and debating whether Penzey’s was a necessity or a luxury. Thank you, Mystery Gift Giver. Much appreciated.

I did sleep in a little — let’s hear it for 7:30! — and had a leisurely breakfast of blueberry muffin and brie. Second cup of tea is to hand, and I’m pretty sure there will be a third cup in my future. Lunch will be salad, because the tomato got ahead of me again.

I have a few chores to do, and some paperwork to straighten up. Honestly, where does All! The! Paper! come from? Mostly, though, I’ll be writing.

The sunroom office is full of — sun! And cats are napping everywhere.

I finished reading A Gentleman of Unreliable Honor, and am now giving all of my attention to The Sign of the Dragon.

What’re you reading today?

Today’s title brought to you by Cat Stevens, “Tea for the Tillerman,” because, yeah, I loved that album, back in the day. Sold it when we sold all our vinyl to make the rent or some such silliness. Still. Great album.

And go-kart Mozart was checkin’ out the weather chart

What Went Before: I returned to the keyboard after serving up Happy Hour. Trooper is calling foul and is trying to get Tali to fill out the form in triplicate to the Committee Cat. Tali is not interested in getting carbon on her toes, so I’m not sure that complaint’s going to be filed any time soon.

956-ish new words on the WIP, which brings it a whisper short of 5,000 total words. I’m pleased with the day’s progress, and look forward to making more progress, tomorrow.

I would like to report that the portable deadbolts I bought from Amazon really do work well, but I had reckoned without the Resident Void, who can quite easily stand up on his back feet and dork around with the chain — not a particularly safe situation. Cats, man…

I have received a Very, Very Dangerous Email from Vacassa offering almost-affordable places to stay oceanfront in Old Orchard Beach. I tried to avert my eyes — well, no, I didn’t. I opened the dern thing right up and started clicking. It’s a little unnerving to find that I know where most of these places are, including the one in Ocean Park, which is, yes, Just A Walk from the Beach, but it’s a Rather Stern Walk.

The ‘beans are clinging to this upcoming Weather Event like it’s their firstborn child. I’m not going anywhere, myself, and the generator is ready on standby, but I could honestly do without a Weather Event. I’m ready to be done with winter. Witness my explorations at the beach, above.

I think I’d better be done at the desk for the day, before I get into even more Dutch with the coon cats. I do still have to pair socks and clear the dishwasher, and by that time Trooper may have decided to file the report himself.

SNIPPET: “Treachery is always possible,” his former master reminded him in memory. “Honor is always possible. It is our task as traders to nurture honor while being alert for treachery.”
OR: “Trust in Allah, but tie your camel.”

Onward.

Sunday. Snowed a couple inches on the overnight. Looks to be taking a breather right now, then we’re supposed to be treated to more snow and the ever-popular wintry mix.

Breakfast will be scrambled eggs. Lunch will be — dunno. Maybe leftover stew. Maybe a grilled cheese sandwich. We’ll see.

Today’s plans include changing out the cat boxes, baking a loaf of bread, writing, and contemplating the precipitation when and how it chooses to fall from the sky. Surely, that’s enough for one day.

So! Those who attended — how’s Boskone?

Everybody else — how’s the weekend been treating you?

Today’s title brought to you by Bruce Springsteen and Manfred Mann. Yes I do realize this is a Religious Thing that’s just as heat-inducing as Oxford Commas, and How Many Spaces After a Period. That being so:
“Blinded by the Light,” Manfred Mann
“Blinded by the Light,” Bruce Springsteen

Sunday morning photo shoot:

In which lunch is uncertain, and the snow is very near

What went before: +/-750 new words on the WIP. Yeah, Gordy’s in a pickle. Note to self: Start a Weird Words List.

Saturday. Diffused sunlight; cold: 7F/-14C when I woke up. 10F/-12C as I type this. Weatherbeans are calling for Snowpocalypse, starting late tonight, and continuing through very early Monday morning.

Breakfast was toast with cream cheese and grapes. Finishing up my first mug of tea. Lunch is uncertain. I want stew. I have chicken tenders. Maybe I can make chicken stew? Hmm.

Today is change out the cat fountains day. I should probably get the cat litter into the house before Snowpocalypse, but I’ll let it warm up a little bit (which, trust me, is all it’s going to warm up). I’ll probably throw a load of laundry in, so as not to get behind, and get the desk set up for the mundane parts of next week, but mostly I want to spend some Serious Time with the WIP.

Last night, as I was sitting in my corner of the couch, snuggled under a blanket and reading, Tali jumped up, did some of her frantic-kneading; suddenly stopped, sighed, and chose a spot next to my knee to stretch out and purr quietly to herself. A few minutes later, Firefly jumped up on Her Particular Spot, started to knead, *saw that other cat* and approached. Tali turned her head upside down, Firefly sniffed her nose, then came back to Her Spot and snuggled against my hip. Both girls purred for a bit until they went to sleep, and I returned to my book.

Previous to that, we had a very nice, four-corner cat dance. Rook still needs to learn some game manners, but everybody got a chance to show off their moves.

I saw a few people yesterday wondering if Rook was being an aggressor, trying to take the desk box from Tali. What I think is — Rook’s still a kitten and has no boundaries. He flops on top of Trooper and goes to sleep; he’s not contesting the space, necessarily, merely being comfy and warm. Also, Rook has No Idea how big he is, so crowding Tali out might not have been his strategy. If it was — it didn’t work, because Tali gave not an inch. It’s worth taking a moment here to remember that Tali was previously in kitten production. By policy, she does not take nonsense from upstart kittens.

So! That’s my day planned, pre-snowstorm. What’s the weather where you are?

Today’s blog title courtesy of The Doors, with apologies to Jim Morrison. “Roadhouse Blues”

Below, Rook, helping me get the laundry sorted. What a worker that kid is.

Go on, take the money and run

What went before: On behalf of the new novel, I got my reading done, and did some planning. Wrote about 600 words. Set up the three-ring binder so I can put all the Shan bits together, all the Jen Sin bits together, and so on, until it’s time to piece them together. If that’s how it’s gonna be, then I might as well be organized about it. I also received Tali’s updated TICA registration.

Oh, let’s see. Friday/Big Commercial Holiday in the US. Sunny and windy and C-O-L-D.

Before-appointment breakfast was a KIND bar and a cup of tea. Fly-by second breakfast was a carton of vanilla skyr. Water is on to boil the macaroni fated to go under my spaghetti and meatballs that I didn’t eat for lunch yesterday.

I have new sneakers. Holy Hoots! Have you seen the cost of sneakers? Especially the sneakers recommended by your podiatrist? I wish I could say that they’re pretty, but they’re not. I don’t often score pretty shoes, being, as I am, guy-sized, and for some reason Hoka did not see fit to make lavender sneakers in guy-size. They are comfy, so maybe worth the price. And, even though I know that the new card from the insurance company would have paid for them, I forgot that at the Crucial Moment. I’ll learn the ways.

Extra order of cat litter has been delivered to the inside of the garage, and there it can remain until the wind dies down. I have been told that my repaired wireless keyboard has commenced its return journey from Washington State. On my way home from Augusta, where I took on the above-referenced moderately ugly but very comfy sneakers, I stopped at Hannaford for milk (it won’t do to run out of the means to make hot chocolate this weekend), cheese, macaroni, chicken tenders, more Snyder bits because man those things are good, and, err, something else. Ah. Wine. All food groups covered.

After lunch, I hope to get with Gordy as the boys in the basement thanked me for the beer by explaining why it is that Gordy is late, and depending on how that goes, I may watch John Carter, which I do have. I’d been convinced that I’d traded it in.

And that’s my accounting of adventure on the day.

What’ve you guys been doing that’s fun?

BTW, this is what I came home to:

Today’s blog title brought to you by the Steve Miller Band, because I happened to hear it on the radio this morning. “Take the Money and Run.”

In which pets keep us healthy

What went before: I backed up my phone, in anticipation of getting its screen replaced, one way or another.

The WIP broke 2,000 words, which was good, but they were not the words, or perhaps the feel, that I wanted, which is why word count is such a flawed indicator of progress.

Firefly and Tali sniffed noses! And Firefly initiated the contact! Big step in the right direction. Later on, of course, she raised Holy Heck when Tali tried to join us on the blanket to read. One step forward…

Fast forward to!

Sunday. It was snowing when the cats woke me with a BANG! at 5:30, after I had grumped at Trooper for yelling at me to get up at 4:45. Anyhow.

The snow’s stopped and the sun is doing a country dance with the clouds.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast with jelly, because I was Just. That. Cranky. Lunch — who needs lunch? Honestly, this constant having to eat a meal is really annoying. I sympathize with the Haosa.

After breakfast, I sat in the office comfy chair under the nice heated throw, and alternated glaring out the window, researching details in Salvage Right, and handwriting letters, to see if that produced more of the Feel I was going for, and — yeah, it did. No surprises, there, really, except for the perennial one — You knew handwriting those letters would improve the flow, so why did you type them? The ways writers find to impede their own process is just mind boggling.

My lap has been host to several cats. Rookie is having a tough morning — he got himself so underfoot that I stepped on his tail, and we had to have a love-fest to Make It Better. Ten minutes later, he tried to jump from my desk to the chair, only it spun just as he took off, and he crash-landed on the floor. Firefly smacked him in the head, since he’d just missed landing on her.

First load of towels is in the dryer; second load in the washer. Cat bowls have been refilled. The oven is heating for sugar cookies. Maybe I’ll have sugar cookies for lunch.

Today’s to-do includes more research, writing, and probably glaring. Laundry, obviously, and one’s duty to the cats. Drafting an InfoDump so it can be ready to go when I get the word that the Liaden Universe News list is up and delivering. Oh, and sweeping the front steps.

So! What time did your family pet(s) wake you up this morning?

Alarums and Excursions

What went before: The WIP has broken its first milestone of 1,000 words, and in fact weighed in at 1,300 words at close of bidness.

Also, I solicited information on how to get a cracked phone screen repaired. (I dropped my phone on Sunday, and broke the screen — a personal first, though I’d hate to tell you how many times I’ve dropped my phone over the years.)

Onward.

Saturday. Chilly and bright. Were here in Central Maine are rejoicing in a Severe Weather Alert. The ‘beans apparently found an unopened bag of Winter in the back studio that nobody uses and slipped the knot.

We are therefore expecting, between 7pm this evening and 1pm tomorrow, 4-6 inches of snow. Note to self, turn the car around in the garage so it’s facing out. I was lazy yesterday and pulled straight in.

So! We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory have already experienced alarums and excursions, and that’s before we view the result of Shan’s first bout of letter-writing.

Alarum the First: Walked into the living room to find that the front door was not only unlocked, but ajar. It is of course entirely possible, not to say likely, that what happened is that I failed to lock the door last night and either air pressure or Midnight Cat Wrasslin popped it. This is also, of course, not the first thing one thinks when they find the front door open upon waking in the morning, and knowing oneself alone in the house.

So, a walk-around, heart in mouth, accompanied by cats who wished to inform me that their bowls! were! empty! They weren’t wrong (this error has since been amended), but it seemed unlikely that the Theoretical Intruder had been a Giant Polydactyl Cat, who had jimmied the door in order to steal a snack.

We appear to be secure, and yes, I should get a deadbolt, but then someone would have to install it, and, given that Someone is Not Me, the point is moot.

Alarum the Second: I had determined to have cottage cheese with pineapple cut into it for breakfast, with toast. When I opened the carton of cottage cheese that I had purchased yesterday, the carton was half full of — milk. This was distressing. I mean, the reason I eat cottage cheese is so I won’t have to drink milk, vile stuff that it is (unless, y’know, properly treated with chocolate, or fermented into skyr or yogurt or cheese). Investigation discovered the cheese curds beneath the milk, so I strained the carton. The actual food thus recovered was fine and the toast was excellent.

Given the above, it seems somewhat poor-spirited to note that there were Dusty Cat Prints on the stove top this morning. I appreciate that a girl has to investigate; I only hope she doesn’t lead the others into Error.

At this point, however, I’m a little leery of predicting, or indeed making, lunch. I think there might be some potato and leek soup. It might be a good day for potato and leek soup.

What else? Ah. My new Lunchtime Read is The Sign of the Dragon by Mary Soon Lee, illustrated by Gary McCluskey. It has a Goblin Emperor vibe, and I’m enjoying it, though I’m only about 25 pages in.

Today’s chores include — laundry! Also, closing down the Guest Parlor, since it seems we’re Past That now, turning the car around (yes, that needs to be on the list, or I’ll forget to do it), eating something for lunch, and recording the results of Shan’s letters the First and Second.

That should, she said hopefully, keep me busy.

I see that the Elm Plaza Verizon store opens at 9am on Monday (it’s also open today and tomorrow, but that’s not pertinent to this discussion). I have a dental appointment at 12:45 on Monday, so I could plan on hitting Verizon at the stroke of 9, making sure I have a book or six with me, and if they’re not able to deal with me before noon, go to the dentist. This is the Current Plan.

What’s your Current Plan?

Tali continues to Settle In.