Tag: writing

Survivalism PSA and writing report

PSA RE: (1) Survivialism/Survivalist (2) Cancer Survivorship Program

. . . on account of I’m tired of answering the question “What is a Survivalist?”

Those who have been with me for a little while know that back in 2020, I was diagnosed with cancer and had my left breast removed. Just about a month ago, after about 5.5 years, my surgeon declared me “cancer free,” and cut me loose from her care.

This makes me a Cancer Survivor (also, apparently, “a warrior”; make of that what you will).

At the Lafayette Cancer Center in Brewer, Maine, when one has achieved 5 years cancer-free, one is given over to the Survivorship Program, which files under Oncology.

The head of the Survivorship program has been called in my hearing the “Survivalist.” At the Lafayette Cancer Center, this person is a Certified Nurse Practitioner; there is also a Nurse Navigator attached to the program, and of course the backing of the entire Oncology Department.

The mission of the Survivorship Program is to provide education and support to help cancer survivors maximize their health and quality of life after having had cancer and treatment for cancer. The program is individualized, and covers such things as a yearly examination — physical, mental, and emotional — referrals to other specialists sometimes needed by surviving warriors, such as psychiatrists or nutritionists; connections to social services, and support groups. Advice about diet, exercise, and all those other tiresome things is available.

The Survivorship Program also keeps track of my mammograms and orders the next one for me; and is just another cord in what is, in Central and Northern Maine, at least, a Very Thin social health network.

You now know everything I know about Survivalists, Survivorship, and Survivalism.

Here ends your PSA. We now return you to your irregularly scheduled flights of fancy.
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Managed to trim +/- 2,000 words from a section of the WIP which probably needs to lose some more words. There’s an “obvious” bit that I can rip out that will lose me another 500 words, but I’m … reluctant to do that. It’s more than I just like the bit (though I do, and “kill your darlings” is not Eternal Wisdom, so nobody go there, ‘k?), so the bit gets to stay.

For Now.

Did a little bit of house straightening this afternoon and will shortly be heading out in the Stygian Darkness of 4:30 pm to go to needlework.

Tomorrow will be writing in the morning, some more straightening of the house, and a bit of playing with glass.

I’ll say goodnight for now, and see y’all tomorrow.

Stay safe.

Here, have a picture of Rookie overseeing my shoddy impersonation of a working writer:

White bird dreams of the aspen trees

Tuesday. Chilly and dim. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Breakfast was cold pizza. A milestone. I had what I believe to be my first pizza since Steve died on Sunday night, post-interview. It would have been something we might have done. This being so, I had cold pizza for breakfast, also for the first time in more than a year. … It was good. Pairs well with Scottish Morn tea.

Woke up this morning with a short story in my head, so I need to map that out before I hit the WIP.

I have finished writing the Holiday Letter; it is now cooling before I reread and (probably) revise. Firefly helped me find the cards, and then we all had to sit around and explain to Rook about cards, and let him sniff them. He got green glitter on his nose.

Still reading The Thursday Murder Club (yes, yes: slow reader). One of the things I’m especially enjoying is the acknowledgement that all of the club members had Done Stuff — even a lot of stuff. They did not just manifest one day as Old People, their pasts either irrelevant or a blank.

And of course, it’s wonderful to see them manipulate the “clueless and helpless old people” perception.

I’m a little scared of Elizabeth, though.

So! This evening is needlework. This morning is writing.

I’m gonna need more tea.

What’s on your schedule today?

Today’s blog post brought to you by David and Linda LaFlamme, “White Bird“

Small victories in writing a novel

Cat Tax first! Firefly decided to sleep in this morning.

Lunchtime report: I do believe I’ll finish my business with the words that are already written today. Which means that my next 6-day writing sprint, starting Wednesday will be all about writing new words!

Guess I’d better in a box or two, so I don’t run out.

End of Day report: And that? Is the correx entered. I still may need to trim the front, but for now, I think I have all my avians in a row, and can go, more or less confidently, forward.

So! The week coming.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll finish up the Quick ‘n Dirty chapter-by-chapter, just to be certain that the assertion made above is true.

Tomorrow afternoon, I have a Zoom interview with the Baen Free Radio Hour, in which we’ll chat about I Dare. I’ll let y’all know when that will air.

Monday morning, I need to go to the cancer center to get a blood draw and talk with the Survivalist. I may or may not do some other errands while I’m out. Tuesday evening is needlework. Thursday, I’ll make myself a nice meal and Friday morning Sarah will be by to clean for me. This means I’ll have a large portion of six days (not six entire days) to write new words, which is Extremely Cool because I have reached the stage of being So. Sick. Of. This Book.

Right on schedule.

I guess I should wash the pots ‘n pans before it’s time for Happy Hour.

The cats and I may watch another episode of Maigret this evening. Firefly quite liked last night’s episodes.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

In which Happy Hour is Unreasonably Delayed

Didn’t get as much done today as I had wanted, mostly because my hands hurt. I actually stopped working at one point, heated up the ol’ therapy mittens and watched a bread episode of the Great British Baking Show while they therapeutically warmed my hands.

I’m knocking off for the day, and will be watching Maigret on Masterpiece Theater. It’s been decades since I’ve read Georges Simeon, and while Maigret wasn’t a favorite, he’ll do in a pinch.

Hopefully, my hands will be less ouchy tomorrow.

On the plus side of the day, I thought I remembered that Jermone Joyita had come from “Wick’s World,” but I looked it up anyway, and it turns out I was wrong. He came from The Wikesworlds or “The Wickes,” but since this was a passing detail in Dragon Ship, I think I can be a little proud of myself.

Rook is marching back and forth in my office, shouting “Yowr!” and Utterly Rejects the notion that he has to wait A! Whole! Hour! for Happy Hour. I gather the idea is that we ought to have TWO Happy Hours on Friday.

. . . and Saturday . . . and Sunday . . . and Monday . . . and —

Yeah. Nice try, kid.

Anyhoot.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. Tomorrow is also a writing day — glares at universe — so check-ins may be anywhere from odd-houred to absent.

YOWR! says Rook.

We who are about to brain…

Proof of well-supervised work happening:

Did a lot of braining today. And laundry. Braining means less words, but better results. Laundry — well. You gotta have socks.

So, I see that DoorDash has lost a lawsuit 4 years in the trying, in which they were proved guilty of privateering during Covid. They gotta pay money to Almost Everybody, which is of interest to me because!

I have money on account with DoorDash, thanks to kind friends, and I am very careful to use it when I really need it — I’m on a drop-deadline, or I’m sick, or I just got back from picking up a cat in New Hampshire and drove home in the snow — you know: emergencies.

Over the last two days, I’ve been getting messages — and I’m talking about a lot of messages, “reminding” me that I have $X on account and that now! would be the perfect time to DoorDash a Big Mac. Or maybe I’d like a milkshake? Or somebody to pick up some Tday groceries for me? Or, or, or —

In other Convenient Food news, I got a gift card — included in the cat litter delivery — for $140 OFF my first box from Factor. How much do these things cost that they can give me a week’s grocery money off?

And third? Came in today’s mail and these folks are playing for keeps! They’re not only gonna send me premade dinners, they gonna give me a FREE “smart oven” to cook ’em in. All I have to do is open the box, sprinkle Stuff over what’s cooking, put the pans in the “smart oven” and scan the QR Code from the box. The oven will then smartly cook my meal to perfection.

The future is a lot weirder than I thought it would be.

Anyhoots. Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served. I am a tired woman, and am going to go pour a glass of wine and try to find the first season of the glass-blowing show and see if that’s less … people-y. I know that people make glass, and that it’s a competition, but I want less posturing, and more thoughts on the art or the process when I have to listen to the people, and more of the actual Happening of Art, which I think is more interesting than the finished pieces.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Art takes a rest

Earlier this same day: Wrote about 900 words while Sarah was here. Finished soldering the back of my glass piece, but couldn’t work out how to solder the edges, not having three hands, and came upstairs to look up how that’s done, exactly. Duh. So, I’ll do that after the Fidium guy has come and gone.

I guess I ought to get some lunch…
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Somewhat later: So, I’m stopping here, it being the best I can do. I note that the piece is not perfectly oval, but on the whole it’s looking much better than I had assumed it would.

I did have a moment of inattention and burned a BIG hole in my Styrofoam work surface (sigh). Note to self: soldering irons are hot; that’s kinda the point. I have another piece of Styrofoam. I also have lots of funny little pieces of Escaped Solder, which, as I was gathering them, it occurred to me that I’d done this before. My father was a solderer by trade, on the production line at GM in Baltimore (Spot Welder being the official title), and he had a soldering iron and pertinent equipment in his workshop. More than once, I was put to work gathering up the leftover solder and putting with all the rest in a big iron pestle.

The Guy from Fidium has been and gone, after giving the diagnosis of No Problem Here. Which . . . OHkay. Things seem to be working, so I’m not complaining.

What I’m doing instead of complaining is refilling my cup and taking it with me back to Steve’s office. Maybe I can write another couple hundred words.
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SNIPPET:

“How did you find Jen Sin?” Ren Zel asked, handing Miri a glass of wine.

“Awake. Complimentary, too. Said Val Con wasn’t an idiot.”

Ren Zel choked, and put his glass down hurriedly.

“He’s not wrong, after all, Beloved,” Anthora said.

“Yes, but – ” he waved a hand. “One wonders how the subject came up.”
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Now:  Well. That got to be a busy day. 1,440 total new words, for those keeping track at home. Tomorrow is a writing day. I’ll be finishing the scene I started this afternoon, which will be the final bridge I need to build in this part of the WIP, and get back with entering corrections.

It’s funny how, when you ask people why they want to be writers, nobody ever says, “Because I love entering corrections into the manuscript.” Which is, arguably, one of the most important parts of writing.

Go figure.

The cats are informing me, loudly, that it is Happy Hour. The cats, regrettably, are wrong.

I’m — tired. The Plan for the evening is to serve up Coon Cat Happy Hour on time then snuggle down on the couch and watch “Blown Away” on Netflix. There may be a glass of wine involved. Or even two.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Art Goes On

Thursday Night: Nasty outside. Rainy and cold.

Spent most the day with the WIP, entering correx, writing scenes, removing scenes, fine-tuning. Ate a late lunch, because class isn’t over until 8:30, so — late dinner. And I need to get up earlyish tomorrow to pick up for Sarah, who’ll be by around 9ish.

I know, I know — the excitement.

In a bit I’ll get myself together to go to class. Trying to think good thoughts about my art. I have learned a bunch of stuff, so there’s that. And I do have a soldering iron and wire and flux, so maybe if I can master — for values of “master” — the basics, I can be let loose to finish whatever’s left at home. And honestly, I have no idea how long soldering will actually take. I’ve been watching videos, but they’re by people who know what they’re doing, which would not be me.

I clipped Rook’s claws the other day while he just laid there and purred. Today, I got Firefly — who is NEVER going to SPEAK to me AGAIN for this violation of her innocent kitten trust — and most of Tali’s. Tali used to hang out with a Siamese, which I think is where she learned Those Words.

I’ll just bid everyone good-night now.

Stay safe.
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Friday.

Business First: Civilized Behavior is an “Amazon Best Seller”! Number 1 in Science Fiction Anthologies (Kindle)
Number 4 in Science Fiction Anthologies (Books)
Number 5 in First Contact Science Fiction ebooks
I hope you guys are enjoying your books, and!

Obligatory Reminder to leave a review, please, on the venue(s) of your choice.
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Hokay. Glass class. After some frustration, a pep talk, and a tutorial by the instructor, I did re-burnish my foil (I had not used a firm enough touch, first time), and soldered the front of the piece. It’s like magic! It’s now A Thing, and not a scramble of little pieces that won’t stay where I put them. Take that! scrambly little pieces!

My homework is to solder the back, and on Sunday another student and I will meet the instructor at her house to finish up.

So, the Plan is that I’ll work on soldering after Sarah leaves, and finish up after the Guy from Fidium, assuming that there IS a Guy from Fidium, leaves. Saturday will be devoted to writing. Sunday, a little writing in the morning, then out for glass project finish-up.

In service of the Plan, I have turned on the heat and the lights in Foosball Studios.

I was asked last night, semi-officially, if I’d like to teach Adult Ed writing, which — I’m thinking about it. I need to poke around and see how much of my teaching stuff I still have, and how much of it is still relevant.

In coon cat news, apparently Tali informed Rook that his mama wears snowshoes — which would not be inaccurate — an assertion to which he took immediate and violent exception, and the back hall was briefly filled with — y’all remember the rolling, cursing Tumbleweed Of Violence from, oh, Tom and Jerry, or The Roadrunner — yeah? One of those. Tali’s now having a wee dram of cat food and Firefly has discovered that I have picked up the cat toys, and is thinking about this.

Rook is cleaning orange fur out of his mouth.

I think that catches us all up, pre-breakfast.

How’s everybody doing?

Below, the State of the Project: Front side top, back side bottom

Snow cats and book drop

Business first:  Tomorrow! CIVILIZED BEHAVIOR: Adventures in the Liaden Universe(R) #36, featuring three short stories set on Colemeno of recent memory, a speech, and an author’s forward will be released tomorrow in ebook from All of the Usual Suspects, and! in trade paper from Amazon.

Wednesday. Trash Day (holiday schedule). Cold and still. It snowed! overnight.

sigh

Breakfast was naan and hummus and grapes. I haven’t had naan or hummus, either, since Forever, but I went to the Other Grocery yesterday (where I got carded*, all 73 years and every silver white hair of me), because I was so tired of the Usual Grocery’s mediocre veggies and fruits, and also because I thought the Other Grocery would be a surer source for turkey fillets.

I was wrong about the turkey fillets, but I may have gone overboard on fresh stuff, and the problematic bottle of wine, and the hummus was right at my eye level as I turned a corner, and they had helpfully staged the naan right with it and — I was doomed. And it made a lovely breakfast, and I regret Nothing.

Today is another Real Life Day — Physical Therapy in a little over an hour, then a visit to the Usual Grocery to get the stuff the Other Grocery doesn’t carry (or, to be fair, that I forgot about yesterday). Then I have some phone calls to make — Fidium again! All three of the — repeaters? — are out, what fun — and then I need to adjust my Anthropic claim on account I have to Prove that Steve is dead.

I hate having to prove this particular equation, though to be fair, I’m not having to do it nearly so often as I had to, last year this time.

Tomorrow is also my last stained glass class, so I hope I’m discovered to be a soldering wizard.

Friday, Sarah will be by in the morning to help the cats clean up, and it looks like after that I’ll have Friday afternoon through Monday morning cleared to write new words.

If I was a smart writer — a point often in dispute — I’d not only work on doing the correx from the six-day sprint, but also sketch in the scenes that need to be written going forward.

I tried to watch TV last night, but had no brain (this is pretty bad, when you don’t even have enough brain left to sit passively and be spoon-fed a story), so I cuddled on the couch with the cats and listened to music until they jumped down for a snack and I went to bed.

So! All that said — how’re y’all doing this morning? Any snow at your place?

Wednesday morning cat census.
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*Busted:

Tuesday, with dinosaurs

Dinosaurs first:

Well, that was a surprise. One thousand five hundred new words between Jen Sin and the Uncle.

I have tasted the Hiberian Breakfast tea, and it was pleasant; a step up in whatever it is I seek in tea from the standard Irish Breakfast.

I then had a cup of Scottish Morn, which — may not have been wise. That’s — yeah. Quite a cup of tea. I’ll give it a chance on its own in a couple of days. Might be I’ll have to put milk in it, something I never thought I’d be doing.

Dental appointment at 1 pm, after, and depending on the state of the predicted “rain and snow,” I have a couple of errands, including the grocery, then back home and I’ll see where I am about what. It might be Enola Holmes tonight. I didn’t watch anything last night in favor of reading an article about old people “embracing” the single living lifestyle, which was — ultimately unenlightening. The article affected some astonishment regarding the fact that widowed men are more likely to remarry than widowed women. Which I find Not Surprising At All, though I have friends both male and female who have remarried after losing a spouse.

USPS would like me to believe that I am getting two deliveries from itself today. I will be surprised if that happens.

And I think that’s all the news from here. The cats all trooped back to Steve’s office with me this morning, took up their comfy spots, and I think that’s where they all still are.

I think that’s it for me. What’s it for you?

 

 

End run

6:30 am: The workday begins

Later that same day: Taking a break to make myself a pot of lentil soup for today and For! The! Future!

The cats are still all back in Steve’s office, having, as the barbarians they are, not the least little bit of interest in lentil soup. Barbarism aside, I have done my duty to themselves, taken a short walk, and also accomplished a few diddly little things while I’m in this side of the house.

USPS allows me to know that I can expect delivery of my tea order today, so that’ll be interesting, going forward.

Last night’s movie was “Vengeance Most Fowl” which is as far as I know the “new” Wallace and Gromit. Those who had been wanting to know about this new??? Wallace and Gromit will do well to remember that I don’t get out much, and in acknowledgement of that I did quotate “new”.

Tonight, I may (re)watch “Enola Holmes,” which I enjoyed the first time I saw it, and which will be pleasant to see again over a glass of wine.

Tomorrow — is Veteran’s Day. There is therefore, no trash pickup, no needlework (the library being closed), and, I think?, no mail. There is, however, a dental appointment. In case anyone was looking for evidence of Life Not Being Fair.

And! My lunch appears to be done. I’ve just added some red wine, and will let that perk a bit while I cut bread and pour ice tea and such like.

How’s Monday treating y’all?
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The end of the six-day run, and what a run it was.

The manuscript has shrunk, but that was expected, and some of the shrinkage was only due to a particular exchange being in the wrong place, so those words aren’t gone, they’re only on-hold for awhile.

I still have about 200 pages of corrections to input, which will now have to take a back seat to Real Life, but! it’s much easier to sit down for a half-hour between Stuff and input a couple pages of corrections than it is to try to work out a whole scene in spits and spots.

On the topic of Adjusting Mine Environment — I was being sufficiently oppressed by the darkness — especially in Steve’s Wing — that I thought to add to tomorrow’s errands a trip to Home Despot or wherever to buy some twinkle lights to install in the laundry room.

Then, as I was wandering the house earlier, I snapped on one of the many “neon” tube lights we have around here, leaning in corners for quick-lights, and I said to myself, I said, “Self? We don’ need no farkin’ twinkle lights.”

I installed a blue tube and a … pink, I guess it is. And boy! don’t they light up the space! I did hang them up with the brackets that came with; fingers crossed they’ll stay where I put them.

Harney’s came through with the tea, and I have 50 sachets each of Scottish Morn and Hiberian Irish to test drive, starting — tomorrow morning, because now?

It’s wine o’clock.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.