Tag: writing

Tuesday afternoon

Um. Tuesday. Sunny and chilly.

This morning, I worked on what I’m calling “Call to Judgment,” the outtake/side-story that was excised from Kin Right.

I’m home from my last session of PT. I’m pronounced stable, skilled in recovery, and strong. I am to continue my homework, which I have So. Much. PT homework that it qualifies as a part-time job.

This evening is needlework, and tomorrow morning I have a haircut/trim/shaping/whatever, and then I expect to get back with Jethri.

What’s occupying your time today?

Visual evidence of dandelion fluff hair with supporting coon cats:

Dandelion fluff:

Firefly:

Rook:

Monday catch up, with cat toll

Did some excavating of words in the WIP today, and did some … let’s call it “plotting.” I was up early and was early at the desk, so I need to grab a short lunch before I head out for book club. And, I do believe that I will drive down to Augusta to see “Wicker,” after.

I also need to call for an appointment to get my hair cut. I look like a dandelion fluff.

And that would be today’s installment in the Exciting Life of a Writer.

What’s happening that exciting in your life?

Cat toll:

Firefly: You awake yet?

Rookie:  I’ve been up for hours 

Back to work

Business first: BIG SALE! The audiobook edition of Ribbon Dance, by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, narrated by Alex Picard, is on sale for $7.80! Yes! That’s 70% off!

Share the word! Share the link!

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So, yesterday was a total wash, though I must say that the pillow-and-blanket fort on the couch is inspired, especially since a kind friend made sure I have heated fleece throws. Basically, I snugged in, feeling like I’d been run over by a train, while Firefly tucked against me, and Rookie stretched out on my hip, and we “listened” to Mouse and Dragon all day. I did rouse myself to order in from the local deli — butternut squash and apple soup is good! Who knew? — and I may order in again today, for no reason other than sheer self-indulgence.

Once again and truly — many many thanks to the folks who have kindly sent DoorDash cards.

This morning, the train has left the station, and really the only thing that hurts is my arm, which I can totally live with.

I wrote 1,090ish new words this morning, bringing the WIP to 65,935ish, and it’s starting to convincingly be A Book.

For some reason, I have a full inbox, which I’ll have to deal with after lunch. Which, yes, I will order in for I Am Weak and Hate to Cook.

How’s life going for you today?

Monday morning early class

This morning’s lesson was Toilet Architecture, this while still wearing one’s bathrobe. The handle of the toilet in “my” bathroom had stopped producing the correct result. Since I rejoice in two toilets, I was able to take the lid off of both and examine said architecture.

Fine, the rod connecting the handle to the lift/seal mechanism had slipped its loop. Simple fix, I thought, more fool I, my excuses being — bathrobe and under-caffeinated.

I did fix the rod back into the loop, and tested my work. The flush initiated, but the rod slid out of the loop. Insert ‘prentice-level curses. Reoriented rod and loop, flushed — rod pops out of loop. Argh.

I think I have discovered the right orientation, but that may be optimism speaking. There doesn’t seem to be a piece missing, like say, a hook or other stop at the end of the rod that would prevent it from slipping out of the loop, so the whole Goldbergian piece of nonsense must, indeed, depend on on orientation.

I suppose I’ll find out.

In other news, I ought to get dressed.

And a cup of tea would not go amiss.

What lessons have you learned thus far this morning?
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So, that’s 1,030 new words written; WIP total words, 64,840ish. This feels much better. I may need to print a poster to hang over my screen that says:

THIS IS A STORY ABOUT JETHRI

In other news, I’m scheduled to receive a COVID shot in a couple hours.   Since I can no longer Simply Assume that I will feel no effects save, perhaps, a sore arm, I had best do my duty to the cats now rather than later, and remember to eat something before I get shot, in case eating is not something I will wish to pursue later.

And that? Is the Exciting Life of a Writer, Monday edition.

It went Zip when it moved, and Bop when it stopped

Some of us are Livin’ the Life.

Rookie taking the sun:

Firefly almost awake

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Thursday, sunny, breezy, and cool. Breakfast was a cinnamon roll, which was probably a poor life choice, but I regret nothing.

One thousand sixty-five new words written this morning. I’m not sure that they’re particularly needed words, but that can be determined later. The WIP currently weighs in at 65,270ish words. I am currently at the part where I want to just Hurry Up And Get It Done, while simultaneously only vaguely understanding the fullness of Where It’s Going.

Last night — well. Early this morning, actually, was enlivened by the Dreaded BEEP of a smoke detector about to go over to the Dark Side. I mention here that I should no longer be harboring the susceptible, as all the new smoke detectors I installed a year or so ago have 10-year lifetimes. Including the one in the basement I just replaced this year.

Nonetheless, we had a BEEP, and nobody can sleep with that, especially not coon cats. So, I got up and went in search of the BEEP.

. . . Which happened to be coming from The Goblin Room, downstairs, where, as above, I only recently replaced the old smoke detector with a new 10-year smoke detector. The new smoke detector was not beeping. The old one, which I thought I had deactivated, was beeping.

One beep every lllllllllloooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggg
interval, but still enough to make you crazy. I took it down, trying to find the switch, but — 2:30am is not my best time of day — and, long story short, I finally wound up wrapping the damned thing in a towel and putting it in My Studio, where for all I know it BEEPED for the rest of the night, but disturbed no one.

At some point today, I’ll need to figure out what to do with it.

I went back to bed, and eventually back to sleep, but the rest of the day is somewhat Put Back.

When I did manage to get out of bed and moving around, I realized that I needed to refill the Working Cat Food Canister, which led to the discovery that I’m going to have to take on some more dry food, since I’ve been working from stores. Another trip to the pantry, for tea, brought the discovery that I’m also going to have to order in that precious commodity, since I’ve apparently drunk a year’s worth of tea in, oh, about a year.

Well.

Everybody likes shopping, amirite?

Before I do any shopping or lobbing off of the heads of electronics, however, I need to each something for lunch that is not a cinnamon roll. I’m thinking hot chicken sandwich here, with, oh, asparagus? Yeah.

So! What’s for lunch at your house?

Today’s blog post title from Peter, Paul, and Mary, “The Marvelous Toy”

 

So, I’m walking in the rain, thumbing for a ride

Tuesday. Rainy and cold and grey and cold and did I say? Rainy. And cold. I b’lieve I may be in for the day.

Wrote 1,000ish new words this morning, brining the WIP to 64,205.

This afternoon, I have — *sigh* — phone calls to make, but before that I need to make lunch. I bought a surplus on-sale rotisserie chicken at the grocery yesterday, so some of that will be going into today’s stirfry. Then, I’ll be about freezing some of it, maybe making chicken salad, and — who knows? chicken soup. I’ll need to poke around and see what I have in the way of Stuff that Makes Soup Interesting.

I finished reading Serpent’s Reach last night, which — not a book to be finishing right before bed. Next up is a CS Harris Civil War novel — Good Time Coming.

The cats . . . the cats are sleeping a lot, though they are, after all, cats. They’re both pretty much sticking with me. Firefly’s trying to pick up Tali’s lap shifts, which, for anyone but a Truly Dedicated lapcat, is ambitious, and for somebody who was a sitter-with — it’s got to be a challenge. I appreciate the effort she’s making.

Firefly also is seeming to think that she “hears Tali” — I’m saying this because, when Tali was still with us, Firefly would come to sit with me in the evening while I was reading. Tali would be getting her last wee dram of cat food before coming into my lap. During that time, Firefly would wake up from a sound sleep, disturbed by the crunching, so one assumes, and do a series of Discover Moves, including ears pricked forward and the slow-get-up, and the deep concentration before she’d realize that, yeah, a tiny mouthful was probably a good idea, and go join Tali at the food bowls. It’s a distinctive bit of body language, and she’s still doing that — waking like she hears Tali eating.

Rook. . .I can’t tell if Rook is more pragmatic, or if his grief is subsumed in all those naps during the times that he and Tali would be playing.

And me — I have many beloved feline ghosts. I still occasionally think I see Archie out of the corner of my eye, thirty years gone that he is.

Well.

What’s doing at your house today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Elvis Presley, “Kentucky Rain.”  Yes, my mind is a scary, scary place.

Second Sunday of the week

Second Sunday of the week. No mail, but FedEx delivered two packages correctly, in the garage. 

I may faint.

Wrote new words today — only 500ish; I had to go back to a previous scene and square it up with what’s going forward, now that I — cough — actually know what’s going forward.

Firefly and Rookie were both in the office with me, working hard from their separate sun puddles. Which is where they still are.

I? need to rustle up lunch, get my packages in, remake the bed now that the sheets have been washed and do a bunch of other chores that I’m not sure how they’re even here, given that I did chores two days ago.

Well.

How’s the beginning of the week beginning for you?
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So, I came into the bedroom to put the bed back together, only to find that Rookie was already on it: ‘#
For those who indulge, the hardcover edition of Liaden Universe® novel Kin Right, by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, sequel to Salvage Right, may now be preordered at Amazon.  Here’s the link

. . . this may be the first time in my life I can say this without irony: Preorders count, as they form the basis for determining whether Book X is deemed, say, a NYTimes Bestseller.

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So, plans changed somewhat, since it looks like tomorrow, when I had planned to run errands, we will be having heavy rains, and I don’t like grocery shopping in the rain. Call me an effete dilettante at the game of life all you will.

So! Groceries have been taken on. I forgot to bring along the cat food I’m going to donate to the shelter, so that was a great deal of lecturing myself not to visit the cat room gone to naught. Well. I’ll be out and about again on Wednesday.

I fear I have been Careless. Yes. Careless. In the evening, as I’m setting up the bar for coon cat happy hour, I will take down a wine glass for mine own happy hour, and?

You’re ahead of me.

Rookie has learned the sound of that cabinet opening, which I discovered when I opened it earlier this afternoon to put a wine glass away.

And on that note, I do believe I’ll close down for the day.

Everybody have a good evening. I’ll check in again, tomorrow.

In which the calendar is unruly

I have committed to a mini-vacation in November — an overnight in Salem, so I can tour  the Peabody-Essex Museum (which in fact is not the Emerson Museum, and nor is the hotel the Emerson, but is, instead, the Hawthorne Hotel — pay no attention to me) and take in a little of the town.

I’m looking forward to this and am glad that there was a less-epic solution available.
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For those who missed the Quip. Liaden Universe® novel Kin Right, sequel to Salvage Right, is now listed in Amazon’s catalog. It, I note, listed as “Currently Unavailable,” so it cannot be preordered, but for those who were looking for Proof of Life, here it is

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So, that’s enough Braining for one day. Sadly, I do not know All, but!

I know Some, and that’s enough to proceed in a forwarder direction with, so — yay.

Now, I do believe I have chores to finish and Next Week’s Activities to Scrutinize. Also? I need to find out when Wicker’s coming to local theaters. It was supposed to be right around Halloween, wasn’t it?

Fans of Rookie will wish to know that he was an Immense Help to the Plotting. First, he sprawled across my lap, meticulously avoiding the paper I was writing on, and went to sleep with his chin on my writing wrist. After about an hour of that, he relocated to the cat pillow below the table next to the comfy chair, and continued with the napping until Just Now, when I got to stirring about.
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Boy, October is being hard to pin down. COVID shot is not tomorrow, but next Monday, the 19th. Which is fine, and I’m glad I checked. So! Tomorrow is a writing day and need not be interrupted by RL. If only all days could be that way.

Otherwise, all chores done, all clean cloths put away with the exception of those Rookie is napping on, which gives rise to the question of if, indeed, they qualify as clean.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll check in tomorrow.

Saturday at the writing factory

Coon cats first:

Saturday was a day of parts, to wit:

Went to bed at a ghodly hour Friday night and slept straight through. Eight hours and 40 minutes, which even the watch allows to have been fine work.

Today’s taste test is chocolate mint tea which smells a little less minty than I expected. We shall see.

I should mention that this is being dictated because Firefly has taken over my lap and needs belly rubs.
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Aaaand the chocolate mint tea is also a disappointment.

Clearly, I’m looking for Eldorado.

Onward to breakfast — oatmeal with peanut butter and semisweet bits. Chocolate-y goodness Will Be happening.
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The old woman who lives with me wants a vacation right now, and, as reported yesterday, Salem is barely three hours away.  Questions were asked of those on FB who happen to live in or near Salem in an attempt to discover the state of the town before I went to work.
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So, that’s 1,480ish new words written. I need to write one more short scene, which I may get to after lunch. Then, we’ll be on to Book Two.

I need to chat with the thermostats, and do my duty the cats — and that last short scene. And research to see if Salem is quite possible right now. And, if not, if something else is. Apparently, I really want some down time, which is a Why Now? But, hey. I may just take a Writer’s Day Off. Could just be I want somebody to make me an omelet for breakfast.

So! Thermostats first, I think, then lunch. Firefly and Rookie are basking in the sunshine in Steve’s office, exhausted, poor kittens, from having written so many words.

How’s Saturday treating you?
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And! The final scene of Book One has been written, and the WIP weighs in at 62,790ish. Or as we were wont to say here at the Confusion Factory, Half a novel, more or less.

Tomorrow, I get to sit with a pad of paper and plan out Book Two, which will be . . . interesting. I hope.

I have scrutinized the level of mingles* in the Big Wine Jug, and spoken to Mr. dea’Gauss regarding an advance against my quartershare. Which he respectfully denied, after he stopped laughing.

So, I will not be going to Salem in November. It will remain on the list of destinations of interest for 2027. Many, many thanks to everyone who weighed in with information, which I’ve saved to the 2027 destinations of interest research folder.

Yeah, Spontaneity R Us.

I still need to do my duty the cats. After that, I believe I’ll be making the season’s first mug of Actual Hot Chocolate and curl up with my book.
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*”mingles” = “mingled coins” aka “spare change”

Long shift

This morning’s mood is flower drake. This morning’s taste test tea is Chocolate Orange Spice, which smells… unexuberant. Which could go either way.

Went to bed late so I could finish my book, got up same, but I fear — I very much fear that my other book will not have likewise been finished overnight.

Onward.
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And! The chocolate orange spice tea is!

A disappointment.

I even knuckled under and put milk in it. Ick.

I have one more sample tin — chocolate mint.

I’m just beginning to think that maybe chocolate tea is not for me.
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Today’s tshirt, the flower drake, came from Skylar and Belle on Etsy. They were having a sale, and I bought a sweatshirt. Then, they sent me a coupon, so I bought a long-sleeved tshirt. Now, ghod help me, I have another coupon, but the tshirt I want doesn’t come in long sleeves, leaving me wondering if the better part of valor is to write to the shop owner and ask if it can be made in long sleeves, or just shrug and say, Well, really. How many tshirts does one old writer need?
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So, I’ve written 900ish words, gave the cats a snack (Rook is so smug that he gets his snacks right from my fingers; he isn’t an Old Stoopy like Firefly, who wants her snacks set down by her nose), and did PT homework.

I should probably eat something, but I’m not hungry, particularly. Well. Maybe I’ll go back and set a time, get a few more words, and then eat something.

. . . it at least has the shape of a plan . . .
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Oh, hey, no wonder I’m tired.

That’ll be 2,300ish new words and the damned scene I’ve been avoiding is now written. Is it good? I doubt it. But it’s in the right direction and! Is it not written that “You can’t fix it if it ain’t written down.”

In other news, the (last, I swear it) tshirt I’m ordering for A. Long. Time. Now. (Bats. I really need a bat tshirt) is coming to me in the long-sleeved option, and all is at least OK in my world.

The cats have had Happy Hour and I need to finish filing today’s work, and go find a glass of wine and my new book, Serpent’s Reach, which I somehow missed reading.

Everybody stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.