Tag: writing

For want of a yeast, the loaf was lost…

Well. I wrote 1,475 words today, but I only got to keep 900 of them, bringing the WIP to 106,725. More or less.

The curtains are down in Steve’s office and have taken up their temporary role as dustcovers. Firefly emphatically does not approve of this development.

Boy, am I glad I cleared this with the committeecat first.

In other news, my yeast is dead and I’m unhappy. I took it into my head to bake a cheese loaf, only it didn’t rise. My yeast, living in the freezer, is God She knows how old. However! the back-up yeast has a sell-by in 2021. I feel in my heart that I should just buy a new bag of yeast and not even try the back-up bag.

I still wanted cheese bread, though, so I made cheese muffins, which are cooling as I type.

I have some notes to write re the WIP, and then it will be Coon Cat Happy Hour.

I will therefore take this opportunity to bid everyone a good night. Stay safe. I’ll look in tomorrow.

Weather makin’

The Long Back Yard, with sublimating snow:

Friday. Raining like heck, heading for the mid-50s. All the dampness will freeze overnight of course. I am so not looking forward to driving to Brunswick tomorrow in the early AM. Yeah, chicken, here.

Dishwasher doing its thing.

Half hour with the Happy Lite has been had while I made notes for the Unending WIP. Breakfast was oatmeal with walnuts and a handful of semi-sweet chips, because I had them. Lunch will probably be soup, to celebrate the rain. That may not be the right word. Oh, and I bought a bag of those lovely little oranges, so I can have an orange for dessert.

Today’s to-do list includes Glaring at the WIP; stripping the bed, washing the sheets, and putting the bed back together; changing out the cat boxes; getting the WIP and all its attendants onto a portable hard drive so it can be attached to my laptop and work can continue in the face of progress. Also, the usual fidgets of hanging stuff away and poking at piles.

I am remiss in reporting that I really like my new glasses, and am wearing them. The old glasses — and I should’ve minded this better — had gotten to the point that I preferred not to wear them; they just made everything worse.

Someone asked where I got my glasses — apparently places like Lenscrafters no longer carry titanium frames, which — What? I get my glasses at the retail side of my optometrist’s office — Eye Care of Maine. SPOILER: They cost the earth, and I’m not really sure how much of that is the blue light coating and the no-line progressive lenses, and how much is the frame.

All that said, and the to-do list, I better get myself busy.

What’s happening with you today?

The cat wants to sleep with Anthony, not with me

Supervisors be supervisin’

#

Not a very satisfactory afternoon, alas.

Back and knees hurt from PT, which meant that it was hard to concentrate, and though I did write a scene, I fear it is the wrong scene, but I’ll look at it tomorrow.

I clipped Tali’s front claws, but when I tried to do the same for Rook, he hissed at me, which was very lowering. For both of us, apparently. He’s now trying to pretend that it never happened, but his claws still need to be clipped. Tomorrow, I’m thinking.

Speaking of tomorrow — the ‘beans are calling for mid-50sF and rain, with an overnight low of 23F, so that‘s going to be a fun 6am drive on Saturday morning.

I believe I will be having an Early Night and a sleep-til-I-wake morning.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by! “Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day,” written by Judith Viorst, illustrated by Ray Cruz.

Tuesday updatery

Tali wants everybody to know that I was properly supervised this morning as I wrote:

#

Tuesday. I have new glasses. Except for a change in color — the old glasses were blue, these are a silvery pink — they look pretty much the same. Titanium frames. The prescription pulls the right eye into line, as it continues its descent back into nearsightedness.

Regarding the read-along — thanks to everyone who chimed in to say that their idea of reading along matched mine, and we will hope that those who were afraid they’d miss something unless recorded due to their work schedules and whatnot are now relieved to know that we’re text-based, and they can check in whenever they have time.

So! People of the Read-Along, I ask your input. Do you prefer order or chaos? Which is to say, shall we commit to reading, eh, 50 pages a week, and look for an update on Monday afternoon? Or do you prefer that I just comment as I go along, and you’ll catch up with me?

Please state your preference in comments.

 

In which the author nips the bud

Monday evening. Book club was fun, though we were down a member, due to Life, and we did not chose another book.

Came home and had about an hour to spend with the WIP, but! Absent taking out the trash first thing, I don’t have to be anywhere or do anything until 5 pm, so tomorrow morning is Bidness as Usual.

I? Think I’ve figured out why so many people are wanting in on my Liaden Universe® read-along, and I am going to nip this in the bud right now.

Ready?

BUD-NIPPING ANNOUNCEMENT: No, I am not reading 27 Liaden novels outloud. If this is what “read-along” means to the Greater Internet, I apologize, and will now explain what I mean when I say “read-along.” I take as my model in this, Humpty Dumpty from Alice.

What I am going to do is read — read — the existing Liaden Universe® novels, starting with Agent of Change and going through to Diviner’s Bow, in Publication Order. I will post my thoughts as I go along, and those who had decided to read along with me may comment on my comments.

I am not (that’s NOT) reading them aloud, live or to a recording. Why not? Because reading aloud is a performance, and I don’t want to perform, I want to read for understanding, and hopefully, pleasure.

I haven’t set it up yet, but my reading notes will most likely appear on Splinter Universe. I haven’t gotten much further in my considerations than the vague idea that I’ll post a link whenever I’ve made a new post.

I’m looking at a start date of January 1 2026, and I will, as above, be starting with Agent of Change, first published as a Del Rey Books Mass Market Original, with a cover by Stephen Hickman, in February 1988. I was 35; Steve was 37.  It was our first novel, but not our first collaboration, and it hit the bookstores in December 1987, where it could be purchased for a whopping! three dollars and fifty cents, US.

Here endeth the Bud-Nipping Segment of Tonight’s Entertainment.

Everybody have a good evening; stay safe. I’ll look in tomorrow.

Here, have a picture from my annual review:

Sunday evening 5 pm

All righty, then! Sunday. Cold and grey with snow showers.

Breakfast was — all together now! — hummus, naan, and grapes. Lunch will be a box of something, on account I’m lazy, and also because I’ve got a buncha RL stuff to cope with on my desk.

I also feel kinda pillow fort-ish. No particular reason, except that Steve has now been dead longer than he’s ever been dead before and I am Not Preferring this narrative.

Writing is over for the day — 1,377 new words, bringing the entire WIP to something around 104,110. Caught myself being unkind to same, which is too easy to do when it’s Just You. It is of course, not just me, and I would like to recognize Tali’s support — she came over and cleaned my eyebrows for me, which was … strange, but well-intentioned, and I did feel better for it.

Tried to watch Miss Scarlet last night, and didn’t quite make it through the first episode. Maybe I’ll try Bridgerton.

What else? Oh, the plaque sellers are out in force. Honestly, I’ve never understood why I need a plaque to commemorate the publication of a book when, yanno, I have the book?

There are an Incredible Number of People who are counting themselves IN on the Liaden Readalong. We probably need a theme song. I’ll try to draft some Rules of the Read today, or tomorrow, so people can take a look and offer fine-tuning, if any.

And that’s all I’ve got at — well, lunchtime.

Speaking of which — oughta go do that.

How’s your Sunday going?
#
OK, so that’s it for the day. I didn’t get everything done, but really, when does that happen?

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

Twistin’ the night away

Saturday. Cloudy, not as cold, but it ain’t summer.

Breakfast was hummus, naan, and grapes. Yes, I’m eating a lot of hummus, but it’s So. Good.

Lunch will be fish on an onion roll with cheese.

Wrote a little this morning, did my duty the cats, PT homework Session I, took a walk. After lunch? More writing!

Oh, you know the thing, that gay people were invented by the libs sometime during the past 20 years, and the other one, that songs and stories never had a “liberal agenda” until, I dunno, last Wednesday?

Well. Here I was, minding my own business, listening to 60s Gold, and on comes that fun-time dance song, “Twistin’ the Night Away,” by Sam Cooke, in which we celebrate the peaceful coming together of All Peoples at the Sugar Shack before the B52s got their residency — in order to do the twist, and I’m singing along, as one does, and grinning at the man in the evening clothes, and how he got here, I don’t know, and then I hear this come out of my mouth:

Here’s a fella in blue jeans
Dancin’ with an older queen

1962.  Here’s a link

#
About 1800 words written today, bringing the WIP to +/-102,700. Tomorrow, I write again.

So, on the idea of The Author Reads Her Own Works in 2026 — a Question for the Group Mind: How many of you would like to do a Read Along? I can dust off Splinter Universe and we can carry on as a group over there if there’s enough interest.

Please let me know in comments if this is something you’d like to be part of.

Deets: I’m planning to start in January, and I’m planning to read the novels only, and in Publication Order*. I have my reasons for doing it this way, and if you don’t agree, that’s fine; don’t take part.

All that said, everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll look in tomorrow.

___________
*Publication Order = Agent of Change, Conflict of Honors, Carpe Diem, Plan B, Local Custom, Scout’s Progress, I Dare, Balance of Trade, Crystal Soldier, Crystal Dragon, Fledgling, Saltation, Mouse and Dragon, Ghost Ship, Dragon Ship, Necessity’s Child, Trade Secret, Dragon in Exile, Alliance of Equals, The Gathering Edge, Neogenesis, Accepting the Lance, Trader’s Leap, Fair Trade, Salvage Right, Ribbon Dance, Diviner’s Bow

Who’s the hunter, who’s the game?

View the pre-Sarah cat census here

Now, where were we?

Ah.

Friday.

Sarah has departed and the house is much cleaner. She reported that Firefly flirted with her to the point of offering chin to be rubbed, which is really new. Usually, Firefly booked to Steve’s office the minute the door opened for the cleaning person. Of course, that was when we had Trooper to stand between us and all invaders. Firefly had apparently settled on a soft approach to invaders (Trooper satisfied himself with Keeping A Close Eye). I did think I saw a memo come in regarding adopting Sarah, but any such Resolution needs to be unanimous, and I, at least, cannot sanction making Sarah’s cats into orphans.

Wrote a little, my intention is to write some more, but also to quit early and watch the first episode of Miss Scarlet.

After Sarah left us, I made hummus, and then I made some toast to so that I could properly sample what I had wrought — and yes I will be making that again. And when I do, I’ll be using the blender, because my food processor is just a little midgy thing, and not up to an entire can of chickpeas. Though it worked fine doing it in sections. Messy, but fine.

While I was in the kitchen, I made some cookies to address the catastrophe reported the other day.

Remaining on the to-do list, one’s duty to the cats, a brief walk, Part 2 of PT homework, eating lunch, and hitting the WIP again.

So! That’s the news from here.

What’s the news from there?
#
Well. Knocking off for the day. Didn’t get much writing done — only about 700 new words, but I did a lot of plotting and staring into space.

On the RL front, I had apparently hit the Land’s End sale hard last year. I had no idea that I had this many mock-necks. OTOH, it’s winter, so — yay! mock t-necks FTW.

I forgot to mention that I did go out to meet ‘n greet the new town manager last night, but it turns out that many people wanted to do the same thing, the new guy having grown up in Waterville and graduated from the high school and all. Long story short, his fandom turned out in such numbers that there was no place for me to park, even if I’d been willing to walk from the other side of the Concourse, which — SPOILER — I was not. So I came home. Mayhap I will write a letter after he’s officially in his office.

I see in my email queue a short story galley to proof, news of a check having landed, which should be in my account on Monday, and — oh. The library wonders if I’d like to do an Author Event in February. That might be fun.

The post office mail hasn’t been delivered yet, which is making me slightly cranky, since there’s a parcel due in that really can’t just sit out in the mailbox and freeze overnight.

My Plan for Saturday and Sunday — tomorrow and the next day — is to write, as next week is Quite Complicated, and that’s before we get to the crack o’dawn double MRI next Saturday. If I don’t check in over the next couple of days, it’s because I’m working.

And on that note — everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Patty Smyth and Scandal, because I heard it yesterday as I was out and about, and it’s a decent song and Patty Smyth can really sing.  And I remember — yes, I do remember, the first time I saw the music video, and then trying to explain  — er, no — describe it to Steve.  WARNING:  If continuity errors bother you, don’t watch this video.  The Warrior

Thursday on the run

Thursday, sunny and cold, but everybody’s acting like it’s summer, because the temps are in the 30sF as opposed to the mid-teens F.

The plowguy arrived at 7:30 and cleared the drive, and the steps and the turnaround, and the short path from the steps to the side door of the garage and! cleared the berm in front of the garage door. Best. Plowguy. Ever.

Went to P(hysical) T(herapy); got my hairs cut; stopped at the PO; made a smol tour of Dollar Store and Reny’s looking for a ball (for PT), and found one at Five Below. Heated up leftover soup for lunch, and have leftovers, because it became a sorta refrigerator soup, since I had a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, and a little bit of that over there . . . Anyhoots, I have leftover soup, some of which will join the other soup in the freezer. I’ve washed dishes, done my duty to the cats and need to do another couple things before I go out to meet and greet the new town manager.

Before I go dashing off, however, I have a question from the mailbag, to wit!

“when the current book gets too long, why don’t you split it in two books?”

And the answer is!

Don’t wanna.

Lest I seem surly, I’ll unpack that a little.

I have three books left under contract, the book I’m working on and two more*. I know, in broad terms, what the two remaining books are about, and neither one of them is a continuation of the story I’m working on now.

Therefore, the solution to the current story needing more room is to write a longer-than-usual-for-us book. So, that’s what I’m doing.

I’ll note that we have occasionally, in the past, intended to write only one book and wound up writing two — Fledgling and Saltation leap to mind, as does Ribbon Dance and Diviner’s Bow. Or like that time we intended to write seven books and wound up writing 27 — and counting.

So, that’s the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory for now.

How’s everybody doing?
______
*Yes, there may be more Liaden books in future. Or, yanno, there may not. My particular understanding with the universe at this point, and always bearing in mind, “Man proposes; God disposes.” (aka Man plans; the Universe laughs), is that I will finish the books currently under contract and then I’ll See.

The Late Wednesday Report

As previously advertised, it’s snowing. I asked Google what the snow accumulation was going to be and it said, “One-point-three-seven inches,” and I know it’s just messing with me.

The WIP now weighs in at +/-100,700 total words, with more words yet to be written. Despite my having removed manymany words, this is still going to be a long book, as we here in the Liaden Universe(R) count book length. I apologize in advance.

The name of the belly dancer whose clip I shared on FB the other day is Rachid Alexander and at least one 10-minute performance is on youtube. In case anybody might be interested.

In other news, I’m out of cookies. I’m not sure how this keeps happening. Probably the cats eat them when I’m out running errands.

Michael Carbonaro, a magician, is coming to the Waterville Opera House in March and I wanna go see him, because — Magic! Show! OTOH, I’m looking at the prices and — eep. Well. He’ll prolly sell out without any help from me.

I am going to have to call the lawyers handling the Anthropic business and get myself to a humanbean. It transpires that my affairs are not straightforward, what a surprise, and I’m running out phucks to give, which — it would be smart to continue with the giving of phucks for a little while longer.

So! Since I’m done writing early today, and the lawyers are in Seattle, where it’s just after lunchtime, I s’pose I’ll get on the phone.

Bah.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow as can.

Oh, Firefly was caught on camera, Helping: