Tag: writing

Celebrating cats and poetry

Business first:  Today is Feral Cat Day and also Book Day for two charity anthologies to benefit Feral Cats.  Lots of good reading here, and!  You can donate to a worthy cause.  Read all about it
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I did sit with the WIP a bit this afternoon after lunch; wrote +/-560 new words, bringing total wordage to somewhere around 97,600.

Today’s deliveries included Calling: Selected Poems by Dorothea Neale.

Some of you may have heard Steve speak of his grandmother, the poet — and this would be her. She was the founder and director of the New York Poetry Forum for 30 years; taught drama and music, and wrote, directed, and produced the Children’s Play Shop, which aired on Saturday mornings on WBAL TV in Baltimore, for years. And she was also a prolific poet.

Steve was immensely proud of her, and often cited her example and support as the reason he became a writer.

After she died, Steve and his cousin Leith ter Meulen had talked about ways to make sure their grandmother’s work and legacy did not fade away, and Leith went on to see Calling published, featuring nearly 200 poems by Dorothea Neale.

Here’s a picture of Steve with his grandmother. The stamp on the back of the photo says MAR 78.

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Sigh. Files under Life With Cats.

So my right wrist has been painful and I’ve been wearing a wrist brace. I leave the braces, as a pair on the dining room table when I’m not wearing them, and did so last night. This morning, one is missing — the right one is missing. Of course. And if I have any hope of being able to cut glass tonight, it lies in having my right wrist braced.

I’ve looked in all the Cat Stash Places, and … nope. So I’ll be going to CVS after breakfast, which is only a couple blocks away, but not what I had planned to be doing this morning.
First cup of tea is brewed, and I’m thinking toast and cream cheese, with a side of grapes for breakfast.

How’s Thursday treating you?
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Back from CVS and heating milk for cocoa. What a terrible day outside. Grey and damp and cold. Ick.

The Good News is that I got two braces — a stretchy one to sleep in, which may help Current Conditions, and a working brace — and the “wellness wallet” paid for both, so — small victories. And somebody finally got a Clue and put a soft layer between skin and itchy velcro fasteners — upgrade!

In Cute Cat News, This is like the third time I’ve come home and seen Tali in the front window, Watching, and her eyes widen when she sees the car pull in. Apparently, she does miss me.

Speaking of Watching…a policeman?! Who could have been so careless? Or was it A Plan?

So! Off to drink my cocoa and then belatedly get to work.

Wednesday’s cat is full of woe

Didn’t take long to look lived in.

New project, for those who may be interested

Wednesday. Cloudy and damp.

Cleaning up my office before it’s time to go out for my haircut, and running a couple more errands while I’m out and about.

I have some more RL catchup to do after I get back home — or maybe I can push them onto tomorrow, and get some writing done. That would be nice.

I’m riding the edge of a lot of nervous energy and writing does help. Also, I really want to get a Compleat Draft by the end of November, so I can let it sit and cool before I have to go back in and Make Decisions. Yes, the book isn’t due until April. Yes, I have no co-author to do the cold read for me.

I think that’s all I’ve got this morning, with the exception of Rook being grumpy because I wouldn’t give him my cottage cheese this morning.

Hoping your cats aren’t grumpy this morning.

Woeful Rookie:

The Studio and other nonsense

So that’s 1,387 “new” words, that aren’t actually “new” but a scene that I’d pulled for Not Fitting In. What I did was rewrite it slightly and now? It fits. WIP now weighs in at 97,060. More or less.

I’m stopping for the moment, because — gotta think now. And also I need to find the Winter Runner, which — the old woman who lives with me put it somewhere, I’m sure, logical and safe. And damned if I can find it. None of the cats remember where it went, either. (SPOILER: Found it!)

Well. While I’m up, I should do my duty to those same cats and warm up the last of the soup (with cornbread!) for lunch.
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Went out just before it started to rain. Bought a cheap non-skid rug for the studio* (oh, how swanky is that? “THE STUDIO.” buffs nails on shirt), then stopped at Shaw’s for milk, butter, bread, wine, cheese. You know — the basics.

I should prolly get a dehumidifier for The Studio, too, but I’m running out of the ready for this project — ref “the basics” above.

The guys in the basement inform me that they’re still thinking, and also out of beer, so I’m guessing that’s my cue to take myself and my book over to the couch until it’s time to serve up Happy Hour.

Hope everybody had a goodish-to-good day.

Take care; I’ll check in tomorrow.
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*Yes, I did hear all the arguments against a rug. Thank you.

You can only see the stars after a setting sun

What went before ONE: A smol break to eat lunch (in fact, a ham sandwich, the ham heated up), make a pot of rice, and do my duty to the cats.

The writing’s going really well, After I finish up in the front of the house, I’ll go back and see if there’s anything else cooking.

The cats of course, have all joined me in my office, so I can feel guilty about my eventual desertion to the writing room.

Which reminds me that some folks had wanted to see where I had put the bats. Here they are:

By reader request, the “story” of the poster: Steve used to work in a video store, and when a new batch of posters came in, he adopted this one.

It is worth noting that Steve also had a Close Personal Relationship with Disney’s Sorcerer’s Apprentice. When I met him, one of his favorite shirts was a silky dark blue with a Sorcerer’s Apprentice print.

What went before TWO: So, that was +/-1,530 new words today, which brings the WIP Entire right around 95,600, as the end of the book keeps getting further away. I also updated the Chapter-by-Chapter.

Tomorrow, I have some phone calls to make, and I’ll need to do them early. Also, I need to clear off my “business desk,” because even though I’m hardly here, it’s a wreck. Well. Because writing at the moment is far more entertaining than Real Life, I do just tend to toss stuff onto a “I’ll deal with it later,” pile.

Happy Hour has been served. I need to put away my socks, now that they’re clean and dry and all, and update the to-do list.

So, that was my day, and hoping yours was as peaceful.

Everybody have a good evening; stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Monday. Dim and cool. Rain predicted.

I had forgotten that today is a holiday. Files under The Perils of Freelancing. Crossfiles under The Perils of Living Alone. No mail today. Gummint offices closed. Oh. Wait.

One of the offices I needed to call this morning was closed. However! The hospital at Rockport was on the case, and able to reschedule my Dark O’Clock Appointment for 11am two days earlier in the same week.

I’m calling this a success on the day.

Today, I am still giving my hands a break, for values of “a break” that does not include fine work such as cutting out teensy pattern pieces, or embroidery, so I guess I’m writing. After breakfast and girding mine loins and all like that.

Who else has had an early success?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Other Steve Miller, “Wild Mountain Honey“

I met her in a club down in old Soho

Oh, dear, dearie me…

For those who have not read it, Be Warned. We are told by a Concerned Reader that Diviner’s Bow is the second Liaden book that was “written for LBGYQ” instead of “staying true to the storyline and characters.”

Well. That’s me told.

In other news — and what I actually stopped by to say — between cutting out teensy pieces of paper, followed by driving for sevenish hours, followed by chores, I have managed to scrod my hands, which means I need to change the shape of the next few days, to wit!

Today and Monday I shall write; Tuesday, I shall finish cutting out my glass pattern and taping said teensy pieces to the appropriate pieces of glass (which means I’ll be missing needlework, but there are only so many hours in the day — and what’s with that exactly?). Wednesday, I have a haircut scheduled, and also some writing to do; Thursday evening is glasswork, I may need to hit the grocery during the day; Sarah comes by on Friday morning.

Also, I need to get a tattoo across my forehead that says, YOU ARE NOT 40.

So! Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts. Lunch will be a ham sandwich, or something else including ham, because leftovers, and!

Time to go to work.

What’s your upcoming week looking like?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Kinks, “Lola” because — obviously.  Released in 1970.

Here, have a picture of Tali:

She walks looks and drives like an ace now

What went before ONE:  Oh. Here’s something amusing.

Someone had suggested yesterday that I go to Aldi for grapes.

I typed “Aldi near me” into the search bar, and I am offered!

Newington NH (250 miles RT)
Dover NH (250 miles RT)
And! My favorite: Port Orange, FL (3,000 miles RT)

So, that’s why I’m not going to Aldi for grapes.
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What went before TWO:  Two thousand eight hundred and eighty-ish new words written, bringing the WIP entire into the vicinity of 94,050.

“Frogging” is a knitting term that I believe Brenda Clough introduced into my vocabulary. It comes from “rip it, rip it” which is what one does when one makes a mistake.

Tomorrow will not be a writing day. I have some layout to complete and a couple phone calls to make before I hit the road to Glass Express, where the class is to meet our instructor “directly after work.” I wonder what that means. Class officially starts at 6. I guess if I arrive at 5, the time won’t be wasted. I mean, really, I’m going to be in a glass shop. It’s not like there won’t be stuff to look at.

Checking the weather, I see that we are now under a Freeze Watch tonight. Looks like I’d better go out and cover up the rose bush.

Aaand, back. Rook saw me heading for the front door and threw himself at my knees, yelling. It is almost Happy Hour, but jeez, kid.

In addition to the freeze warning, the weatherbeans tell me that it will be sunny and 60ishF/16ishC on Friday. Rain starting Sunday evening and that’s most of next week, right there. So! Friday Will Be a Writer’s Day Off.

I do believe that’s all the news &c.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Thursday, sunny and cold. Ish.

I did turn on the oil heat to warm us up at floor level, while the heat pumps do their thing overhead.

I did cover the rosebush last night, but something disagreed with my design decision, be it wind or be it beast, and the blanket was off the rose this morning.

Today! I really hope to get the November echapbook up for preorder. Fingers crossed. I also have some phone calls to make. Including a call to make an appointment to have my hair cut. I’m still liking it longer, except for the part where my bangs fall in my eyes — see haircut, above.

I find a note from Adult Ed in my mail this morning informing me that our instructor expects to meet us at Glass Express at 5 pm, so that’s one question answered.

I also see in my inbox that! my bats will arrive today. That’s awesome. The last best guess for delivery that I saw was October 15 or something. Early delivery FTW.

Yes, I bought bats. I like bats.

What else? Oh. Just got a “Hello, this is a cold call for Steve Miller. Is he –” Sigh. I really miss being able to slam down a receiver.

I had the house phone forwarding to my cell, so that the cellular robot could stop that stuff before it even got recorded. It was doing a good job, too. Then, a couple days ago, the house phone started ringing again — one call from the hospital and four calls for Steve. I need to look up again how to forward the landline.

So! That’s my day pretty well laid out.

Who’s doing something that’s fun?

Today’s blog post title is from The Beach Boys, “Fun, fun, fun” — which is also a formative song.  First, there’s the Interesting Truth of:
Well the girls can’t stand her
‘Cause she walks, looks, and drives like an ace now

And also — granting that I’m probably the only one who ever put this spin on it, welcome to my brain — that Our Narrator is a hero because he’s going to let her drive his car.  Because, I mean, yeah, what else would he want to do?

Rosebush, uncovered:

For those who are still with me, here’s the link to this morning’s cat census.

Gloomy ol’ day with writing and soup

What went before: I think I may have wrassled a working book outta The System. I’ll check again when I get home after needlework.

In the meantime, the hospital decided it had been coy enough and decided to Reveal that it had the orders for the xray of my spine, which — three weeks in the making! — took 15 minutes.

It is, however, done, and I now have tomorrow, most of Thursday, all of Friday to do writing and other needed tasks here at the Confusion Factory. That is, of course, unless I decide that I really have to go to the ocean on Friday. Because a drive to the ocean is always in order.

It is very warm outside in the world. While I was out, I filled up the car and bought nine! dollars! worth of California grapes. I gotta start watching prices closer.

So, I’m checking out for the day.

Y’all stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.
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And the work day commences.  The goal is 1,000 words.  My supervisor is skeptical:

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Wednesday. Rainy, cool, and gloomy.

Had to frog a scene and rewrite. New material is up for this afternoon. Did a load of wash, because I could.

Taking a break now to make ham and bean soup for lunch — ref rainy, cool, gloomy — and glare at my email.

Got the results of my spine xray and my bloodwork back. I would like to talk to my doctor about what these things mean — remember when you could talk to your doctor on the phone? — but I guess I’ll wait until December.

In slightly better news, I do have a PT appointment in mid-November — in Oakland! (aka 3 miles from my house; 6 mile RT). I was pretty sure I was going to have to drive to Augusta (aka 40 miles RT) for PT, so that was a nice medical surprise. I’m hoping that the therapist and I can put her heads together and get a long-term fix that doesn’t require surgery, because we’re avoiding surgery, we are. With bells on.

The cats have each checked in with me this morning, and Rookie did an hour of supervision at the beginning of the shift, but apparently rewriting is boring.

It looks like, if I’m going to the ocean, Friday is my bet, before next week’s nor’easter. Friday drive to the ocean is therefore inked in for Friday.

So! For those reading along: How ’bout that Bubo? Pretty dern bold, I thought him. Or perhaps I mean foolhardy.

What’s the weather where you are?

Lukey’s boat’s got a fine fore cuddy

Shoulder dragon:

What went before: All righty, then! I have finished reading the page proofs for the Diviner’s Bow mass market. I’ll work a little later tonight to gather up the (very few) typos and send them along to Baen, so that‘s outta my hair.

This leaves me with the Top Sekrit Project, and completing the set-up and listings for Civilized Behavior, the November chapbook.

Today, the WIP broke 90,000 words, so that’s a thing.

Tomorrow is supposed to see a return to the 80sF, weatherwise. Someone had asked…somewhere, if it had been cool enough today to warrant wearing a hoodie. The answer being that today’s “hoodie” is a long-sleeved t-shirt that happens to have a hood. I don’t know why these design decisions are taken. I wanted a purple-striped t-shirt, and this one was on sale.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.
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So! Monday. Sunny and going to be Actually Warm. It is in fact 80F/27C in my office as of right now.

Got up early and hit the keyboard, wrote +/-1,425 new words. I want to get back to it. Maybe after I finish up the business portion of the day.

The really good news so far on the day (until the mail arrives and I see if my oval hoop was actually delivered, whereupon — new embroidery hoop!) is that the next door neighbor’s tree guy is willing to take my problem trees down while he’s doing the work next door. He’ll be by tomorrow to take a look IRL, give me quote, and — fingers crossed! — the trees will be taken care of in December.

The annoying news on the day is that the company through which I am financing the replacement doors in Steve’s office keeps texting me…things. I don’t want them texting me. Email. Email is the height of human communication, IMNSHO. Texting is an abomination, though I grant it’s useful in an emergency. I also don’t want medical entities texting me, but so far I haven’t made an impression there, either.

So! Trash and recycling are in the garage ready to be taken up to the curb tomorrow morning. And I have some email to answer, and at least one phone call to make.

Whhoooosssssshhhhh!

What’re you doing today?

Today’s blog post title from Great Big Sea, “Lukey’s Boat.”

Magic Glass Writing

What went before:

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What went before: Senior supervisor checking placement of juniors

 

 

 

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Wrote +/-900 words and needed a break to let the guys in the basement get in their beer order.

So, here’s my stained glass pattern, all color-coded and waiting for me to go to the glass store (on Thursday with the rest of my class) and buy some damn’ glass, Woman! I probably have too many colors, and it seems clear that the pattern, at least, wants Serious Art Glass for the sea and the starfish. I’ll see what’s on sale at the glass shop, pattern. No promises.

Who’s doin’ what today?

While I’m up and around…

Last night I went to the much-anticipated magic show — Magic Rocks, which is pronounced “Magic! Rocks!” and NOT “Magic rocks.” The reason for the sign prohibiting rabbits that I posted from the pre-show last night is because the illusionist, Leon Etienne, is IRL allergic to rabbits. So — no rabbits on stage or in the audience.

It was, yes, loud, because said illusionist is a rock ‘n roll enthusiast (thus “Magic! Rocks!), and there were bright lights and no lights at all at strategic moments.

The Lovely Assistants were, lovely, skilled pantomimists, and honestly, all-around good sports. The illusionist himself was personable, funny, and skilled.

There was a kind of camp feel to the show, aided and abetted by the Lovely Assistants, who seemed at times to be saying, “Yes, we all know this trick, right?” And yes, we all did know the trick, but seeing a woman cut in half live! on stage! is its own kind of magic.

I had, as I believe I said last evening, a really good time.

The tricks started big and showy, got small and intimate, then finished up big and showy.

The volunteers from the audience were uniformly good sports, and the expression on their faces when the magic happened multiplied the wonder in the room.

When the illusionists came down into the audience, I was close enough to hear him say to his first volunteer, “Ma’am, I’ve been looking at you all evening from up on stage, and it’s really been bothering me so I hope you won’t mind, but you’ve got a hair right here –” And I also heard her gasp “OH!” when he pulled the toy rabbit out of her ear.

I also want to call out the woman who went up on stage and surrendered her ring to the illusionist, who subsequently made it disappear — and then revealed that it had not transferred to the jewelry bag that had been set up to receive it. She was visibly tense, and got tenser, and tenser, as box after box after box was unlocked and opened, and her ring was still missing.

When it was finally found, her whole body shouted relief, her smile was to die for, and that one trick was a master class for any storyteller in the art of raising the stakes.

The kid volunteers were also terrific; I’m pretty sure I didn’t have that much sangfroid when I was seven.

Anyhow! If you have a chance to see Magic Rocks — do that.

Friday night roundup

What went before: Errands always take longer than you think they will. However! I have accomplished all my errands.

err. except going to the grocery store.

Which I will be doing! Just as soon as I finish eating the cottage cheese and pretzel that I’m calling by the pet name of “lunch” today.

The guy at SBS said that I was the third stained glass person in on the day, so — good to see we’re all on the case.

The creperie is … difficult for me to understand, and expensive. So I’ll try again some other time.

And that’s all the news that’s fit to print at the mom– Oh. I have an Informed Delivery note from the USPS — news of a package due four days out.

Rookie, by the way, doesn’t think that I need to go away for hours just to come home stinking of D.O.G. eeewwww! (SBS has two resident Big, Friendly Dogs, who were Very Interested in me and happy to provide Vitamin Dog, and we all know that it’s rude to turn down freely-offered Vitamin Dog.)

And that really is it.

Off to the grocery store I go!
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Helping me read:
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The day didn’t go exactly as planned, but! I wrote 545 new words, bringing the WIP entire to +/-89,500 words. And I did eventually do all my errands. And Sarah left the house nice and clean.

I was addressed as “sir” in Reny’s by a woman who was horrified and more apologetic than strictly necessary. She had just seen my hair, she said, and, and my shirt, and she had just made an assumption and ohmighod so very, very sorry MA’AM.

And one more argument against the proposition that you can just tell what people “are” by looking at them.

My “business desk” looks like a bomb hit it, but that’s at least partly the printout of the material that didn’t go through yesterday. I can apparently submit via paper, and I’m trying to decide if that will introduce more Room For Error. No HUGE rush, I guess, but I’d like to get it outta here.

I should probably come back after Happy Hour to put the desk into some kind of order. Or, yanno, not. I hate the feeling that I’m falling behind, and behinder. I’m pretty sure I’m not, but I depended on Steve to make those calibrations for me — really depended; I never learned how to do it for myself. I mean, I can — and do — write down the tasks in hand and their deadlines, look at them, and the calendar, and intellectually understand that I’ve got plenty of time, but the panic-maker never stops running around inside my head, yelling, “Holy freaking ghod, you’ve got So. Much. To. Do. You’re never going to get all this done, and then everything will fall apart, and what will happen to the cats, and, and, and. . . ”

Stoopid brain.

It just about is Happy Hour and I’ll at least be pouring myself a glass of wine in celebration of having gotten through today.

Tomorrow evening, I’m going to a magic show (Yes, I am. Stop it, Brain.), which I hope will be fun. I haven’t been to a magic show in ages. In fact, I think the last time was at Messalonskee High, approximately a hundred million years ago.

Before I go serve out Happy Hour, I want to share a photo. When Belle died Sara Oseasohn did a pastel portrait of her. Steve hung it on the wall in the living room, near the cat tree. Sara very kindly sent me a portrait of Trooper, which arrived today. I just hung it up. Pic below — not a good one, but the glass and the lighting kinda stretched my photography skills to the max.

And on that note! Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.