Tag: writing

Write like a girl

Monday. Full moon shining down through the clerestory window in my office.

It has been a long, strange day. I wrote, broke for lunch, and did a few chores, then when back and wrote some more. Ghod this is easier with two brains. Ahem. Having said that, I’m not precisely sure where the day went.

It must have been the Gala Celebrations that put me on the wrong foot.

Now I know that my tax rate has increased from 12% to 21%, and what that means in actual dollar$, I was able to write the check to pay off the installation of the sliding doors in Steve’s office. And there will be no more of that sort of frivolity in my life going forward, ref 21% above.

Tomorrow is All Errands All The Time. Wednesday and Thursday, most of Friday and Saturday, Sunday, and Monday are cleared for writing. Also, I really wish my brain was on my side, rather than the chancy ally it is. Flogging myself into a lather is really counterproductive, but all I can do is work around it.

I am, for those who have not given up on the whole Liaden Read-along, currently reading Scout’s Progress, which, every time I read it, I think “Yanno? This is my favorite Liaden novel.” It, with Local Custom, are of course the two Liaden novels Most Vilified by the Real Man Chapter of Real SF Readers.

Steve got not one, not two, not six, but many letters from chapter members urging him to “take control of his wife,” “clear all that relationship crap out,” and “write ‘real’ stories”. It would have been comical if they hadn’t been so angry.

I’m reminded of … Hawthorne? “That damned mob of scribbling women?” — I’m pretty sure it was Hawthorne. Local Custom and Scout’s Progress are worldbuilding masterpieces, though I say it of my own work. In addition, they are subversive, as all “real” fiction should be, and SF most of all. The characterization is flawless, the dialog is lovely, and — I’m just really proud of them, right?

But because they show the differences between cultures in terms of relationships, and families; in terms of the welfare of a child, and a woman who isn’t safe in her home — they were, as several chapter members who probably had never read one opined — “Mills and Boon garbage.” As well as “a disgrace,” and “not SF at all.”

Well. Rant off, I suppose. I should get something to eat, and a glass of wine seems to be in order.

I hope everyone had a good day. Yes, I’ve seen the news.

Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Same as it ever was…

Saturday. The almost-full moon is casting tree-shadows over the snow in the Long Back Yard.

I wrote new words today! And did actual Brain Work on the WIP. And changed the bed, and did a load of laundry, and one’s duty the cats; made lunch and was able to eat it, after.

Yes, we have reached the part of the whole pain thing where — POOF! All gone. Just joking. You may now carry on with your life until I decide to randomly take five freaking days and fill them with pain and despair.

Sigh.

The cats were very happy that I joined them in Steve’s office to work today. It really is the preferred space for serious endeavors, though the comfy chair in my office is, of course, very nice.

I made the Executive Decision to join Cook Unity, and have ordered in four meals, which will be delivered on Friday. This means I am guaranteed to have four (hopefully) good meals to eat, and will take the whole Cooking Angst off of my Angst Plate, which is currently overfull with Deadline Angst. I’m viewing this as a short-term thing to lower the overall anxiety in the household. Since they say I can cancel or put it on hold at my discretion, as soon as the book’s turned in, I’ll be doing that. Yes, I need Staff. Also, probably, a keeper.

Looking forward to next week — we have Rookie’s second birthday on Monday, March 2. All of Tuesday is reserved for errands, with needlework in the evening. Wednesday, Thursday, and most of Friday I am Free to Write, and on Saturday?

I’m going to a magic show.

So, I’m really, yanno, happy, that my back has decided to return to normal.

Yes, I’ve seen the news.

How’s everybody doing?

Oh.  Here’s a picture of Rook helping me make the bed.

The marvel is not how well the bear dances . . .

What went before: Wednesday. Snowing and partly sunny.

Despite the distress it will of course cause his fandom, I am forced to report that Rookie the Cookie is a Schmuck. Or possibly only a Jerk. He’s been knocking stuff off the shelves in the Tech Room — notably, bottles of liquid toner, which apparently make a lovely thud-SMACK sound when they land (honestly, it’s a very distinctive sound; I can recognize a toner bottle hitting the floor from two rooms away). I expect he doesn’t really know that I can’t easily pick the damn’ things up right now, but — aargh. Get a cat, they said, they’ll be fun. Get a Maine Coon Cat, they said. They’re very interested in their people and like to engage.

In other news, despite having felt somewhat better last night, I’m back to Square One (minus the THC) this morning. It occurs to me that I better line up a ride to my appointment at Thayer tomorrow afternoon, which — aargh x 2. I hate bothering people to do stoopid stuff for me.

I’ve written to my PCP regarding pain management — the idea being that, going in the front door with back pain (yes, I’m doing my PT homework) needs to be supported by another approach, because even my therapist said that this will keep happening, only as my core gets stronger, an episode will last … less long. What I want, of course, is The Grail: something that will kill the pain, or get it down to manageable levels, and neither make me sick or fuzz me out, so I can write. And so I’m not a danger to myself or to the cats. That’s important, too. As is eating. It’s ridiculously hard to eat when you’re in pain.

The cats are taking good care of me — well. Firefly and Tali are checking in regularly to administer lap-sits and purr therapy.

Rookie’s knocking shit off the shelves in the Tech Room.

In addition to pain management brainstorm, I arrived at the opinion that I should also figure out ways to work even when I’m feeling this bad. So! I have moved Writing Operations to the comfy chair in my office (which has been Back Pain Central), rigged up the laptop with my favorite keyboard, and brought the WIP, and the portable hard drive here, too. So, hopefully, I’ll be able to continue with fixing stuff that’s already been written, and that this episode of painful nonsense will vacate before I realio, trulio need to start producing New! Copy!

So, that’s the somewhat muddled news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’s everyone doing?
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So, that was no fun at all.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I may have gotten around the Horn. Of course, I’m shaky because I haven’t eaten anything for 3 days except peanut butter crackers (Note to self:  Buy peanut butter crackers; the damn things are lifesavers.) to buffer the meds.

I do have a ride lined up for my appointment this afternoon, so that’s good, and my intention is to actually have breakfast and then come back to the comfy chair, do some work on the WIP, and not push things. And eat snacks. What a time to be out of hummus. Bad planning, past me.

Firefly is on my lap and purring.

I’m almost done my Russian Caravan tea Christmas present (Note to self: buy more Russian Caravan tea).

And that’s that’s the fascinating Thursday report from the cat farm and confusion factory.

Dictated to my phone.
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Did some work on the WIP, actually ate food. Steve Symonds gave me a ride to and from the hospital for my test, so that’s taken care of. Managed to get the cat fountains changed out, which has been really bothering me. I’m such a bad cat mom. Talked to the accountant, and — ouch. Not unexpected, but still. Ouch. I’ll pick up the papers on Monday, when — fingers crossed — I hope to be Fully Operational.

In the meantime *whispers* my back is not hurting, which places as a Minor Miracle, and what I really want to do is go curl up (figuratively) and read Local Custom.

May I just say what a great job we did with Local Custom? The gradual unfurling of the leaves of character, the! worldbuilding!, the things that are said so very plainly and yet don’t mean the same thing to the person you’re talking with and — I swoon. No, really.

Damn, I wish I could write like that.

Also? There’s a description — a Very Detailed Description — of a counterchance board. I. Had. No. Idea.

So, anyway, I see the tax stuff, and that I have to Move Monies in order to satisfy the IRS and the State of Maine, but yanno what?

Imma go read.

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

No…really. I will.

Tali collecting overdue ear scrubbles:

Office Closed Tomorrow

Exercises in Futility Number Five Thousand Four Hundred Thirty-Three.

Google Home Assistant: And! I can do more things now. You can ask me complex questions and I’ll be able to answer with help from Gemini!

Me: Hey Google. Why did the AI companies steal my life’s work?

Google Home Assistant: . . .I’m sorry. I don’t understand.

Yeah, me, too, Google. Me, too.

Well.

The WIP currently stands at 129,943 words. I’m still fixing the baby fixes. Once that’s done, I need to write some scenes and put them where they belong. Deadline is April 15.

I have Remarks for my event on Saturday. I have also a Reading.

It is not supposed to snow on Saturday, but it will snow on Friday night.

In the meanwhile, and as much as I haven’t been around this week — tomorrow, February 20, the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory will be closed. Thank you for your understanding.

Everybody stay safe.

Tali and Rook, birdwatching

Upcoming scarcity of Rolanni

Sunday.

No screaming today, though I’m being hard on myself for not getting “enough” done on the WIP. That I’ve rearranged several chapters and rewritten four more is the merest bagatelle.

I really need a time-turner.

This week upcoming has me phoning The Earth tomorrow. Tuesday, I’m wanted in Bath at an Unghodly Early Hour, with needlework in the evening. Firefly visits her vet on Wednesday afternoon. Thursday is blessedly free. Friday morning, Sarah’s scheduled to come in and clean, and it is also the 2nd anniversary of Steve’s death. I’m giving a talk at the library on Saturday afternoon, when it’s supposed to — *checks wunderground* — ah. Downgraded to “snow showers.” Much better.

It is entirely possible that I will not be much around for the balance of this week.

Everybody be well. Stay safe.

I’ll look in as can.

The Friday Report

Sigh. Friday. A semi-productive day, enlivened by random moments of wishing to scream. An Executive Decision has therefore been taken.

Tomorrow is a Writer’s Day Off, even though I feel like I don’t have the luxury of time. I gotta get outta this house, and the Plan is to go to the Inside Farmers Market in Belfast tomorrow, and Have an Outing. I give myself permission to spend money on frivolities. Possibly, I will even eat lunch.

Hopefully this will address the Inclination to Scream.

In the meantime, Rook has convinced Tali that it is too Happy Hour, so I will be making up the bed for the night, and possibly finding something Silly to watch while I have a glass, or two, of wine.

I hope everyone had a delightful Friday the Thirteenth.

Be well. Be safe.

I’ll check in as can.

For Art! and Science!

I . . . have been remiss in updating the blog, for which my apologies.  The last couple days have been not much worth writing about anyway — mostly reading and doing daily chores, with intermittent sadness.

That said, we move on to!

Monday midday already. Sunny and cold. I put paper plates of seeds out on top the snow on the deck. I prolly shouldn’t have done, but I miss seeing the birds. The cats are fascinated and the new sliders in Steve’s office gets them right up close and personal.

I called Dead River this morning, while I was still sitting under the glow of the Happy Lite, and was therefore taught the new method of oil delivery. Back in the Old Days, the oil truck came on — oh, Tuesday. Or possibly every other Tuesday. But, they delivered to a schedule, which they could be expected to keep, to top off the tank. This was … simple. We have now graduated to a more complex system, wherein oil usage for a particular address is calculated, using known data, and when the oil tank at that particular address reaches what ought to be one/third full, an oil delivery is triggered.

I pause here to mourn simplicity.

The helpful office person I spoke with at the crack of dawn this morning explained this to me, though she could not tell me when the delivery would be triggered. We left it that a truck would come by sometime this week to top off my tank, and then I will Observe the System in Real Time, so that I may see for myself how well it works.

Moving on. Yesterday, my back hurt, and my hands hurt, and — let’s just say that I was a hurtin’ person, enough that I was aware that I was hurting. After I finished my work with the WIP, and had written a draft of my Remarks, I decided to field test a gummy. For Science!

I cut a gummy in half (taking it from 10mg of THC to the 5mg  recommended for newbies), which dose is said to make one feel calm and subtly relaxed. It made me feel that I had drunk way too much wine.  Not a pleasant buzz, but rather a “shouldn’t have had that last glass” light-headed-and-unsteady feeling. I mention here that the muscle relaxants and prescribed pain relievers also make me lightheaded and foolish on my feet.

On the plus side, I was feeling no pain. I spent the next while drinking lots of water, and eating snacks and listening to my audiobook, and eventually the “too much” feeling went away, and pretty soon thereafter, I went to bed, and slept very well.

And when I got up this morning, I was still pain-free.

So! Conclusions. Do gummies work for pain relief? Yessir, they do, and they don’t make me sick. Most of the prescribed pain relievers and muscle relaxants really make me sick. Already, I’m ahead of the game. Do gummies work as a muscle relaxant? Seems so, since the pain hasn’t come back today. And let’s not discount that lovely night’s sleep.

Obviously, I’m going to have to be very cautious with them, and I may want to conduct a follow-up experiment with one-quarter of a gummy, to see if I can get relief and! still be able to function.

But that’s for later.

For today, I spent the morning reviewing the WIP and have less than 50 pages left to read. I’ll be doing that after lunch, which will be bean and veggie soup out of the freezer. Unless I decide on something else.

Tomorrow, I will start the day off by opening the tax portal and will hopefully finish filling in the necessary forms before it’s time to go to needlework.

Wednesday morning, first thing, Tali has an appointment with her vet, and when I come home I will begin reviewing beta reader comments, and starting the process of producing a final draft of the WIP.

Doesn’t that look tidy and fine?

So! Who else is tidy and fine today?

Ah.  One of the things I let get past me was the Celebration of Talizea’s Gotcha Day, on February 3.  Here, we have Then:

And now:

 

I gotta get another hat. . .

What went before Thursday: So, I bought a stability ball today — also known as a Giant Yoga Ball — on suggestion of PT, and by doing so I learned several things.

Thing One. I had to go to Wal*Mart to obtain this item. Now, I haven’t been in a Wal*Mart for at least 8 years, and at that time, I was in the Augusta Marketplace store and it was filthy and ill-kept, misfiled, and nerve-wracking to be in — you know, like all the stores are now. The Waterville store, today, was — spacious and well-lit, the shelves were stocked appropriately, signage (with a notable exception, which I will share) plentiful and easy to see. The gentleman in the red vest and ID tags who I stopped to ask where I should look for a Giant Yoga Ball told me that I would be going to the back of the store, to the Sports section, and then he used his phone to tell me that Giant Yoga Balls could be found in Aisle I-15.

Thing Two. Being as I had to walk to the furthest corner of the store to find Sports, I did have plentiful opportunity to look about me, and discover those things reported in Thing One. When I got to Sports, however, I found I-14 and I-17, but not Aisle I-15, which would be my luck. I asked a young lady who was stocking shelves, and whose face immediately said she didn’t want to have anything to do with me why there was no Aisle I-15, and the young man who was her partner said, “Oh, no, I’ll show you,” which he did (I-15 is, in the Waterville Wal*Mart, where they file the bicycles), and when I said, “There are no Giant Yoga Balls here,” led me to the exact shelf, which is where I learned Thing Three, which is!

You have to inflate the Giant Yoga Ball when you get it home. It comes with a cheap, plastic, manual air squeeze, and it will, conservatively, take me three days to inflate this thing. However! I have the ball in house, and have started on the inflation project, and I’m calling that progress.

I am now needing to get to my backlogged email.

Tomorrow Sarah comes in the morning to do the cleaning, and I believe I will be blocking out the rest of the day, which will give me 4.5 days to concentrate on reading/writing until I’m next needed elsewhere. I may, in fact, make a weekend of it, and order in, so I can keep focused on the WIP, with short breaks to blow up the stability ball.

So! I have what passes for A Plan. I note that this Plan may mean that I will be not much around the Internets. It’s OK; I’ll be working.
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Friday. Cold and intermittently sunny. Sarah changed her hours to Saturday.

Woke up at 5:30, got up at 6, sat with the Happy Lite, ate breakfast and was reading the WIP before 8. Read 200 pages, did a couple loads of laundry, broke for lunch — chicken Alfredo from … I have no idea, actually. Pasta Americana? It was good and I have leftovers, which is also good.

The story is not nearly as terrible as I had feared. In fact, it’s pretty good. So that’s a relief. I have 68 days until I have to hand it in, and even though I have to Really End It, excise those 9,000 words, and probably write … two? more fill-out scenes, I should be able to make that deadline.

Beta Readers! If you are still reading, do not despair! My Method is to do my read, then read your comments, once I have the story in my head in its present shape. You are, in a word, Still Relevant — very much so! — and I look forward to your notes with anticipation.

The stability ball has been inflated, and the cats are of the opinion that nobody needs a ball that big.

Dead River, after assuring me yesterday that my delivery was scheduled for today — has not yet delivered. I’m in no danger, but I would very much like to know why it’s suddenly become difficult to deliver oil to this address.

I still need to finish my Remarks and choose something(s) to read for my Event on the 21st.

The missing 1099-MISC arrived today, which would be my luck, because I wrote to the issuing party regarding its whereabouts yesterday. I now have to block out the better part of a day to enter everything into the accountant’s portal, because the thing is purposefully designed to force you to fill it in All At Once. In former years, when I was working from paper, I would have been filling the forms in as columns were added, and paperwork arrived, and the manifesting of the last 1099 would mean that I filled in one final line, reviewed, and took the whole packet down to Oakland on Monday morning.

Stoopid portal.

What else? The now-called Business Office, formerly Sharon’s Office, looks like a bomb hit it again. I used to write and do business in here, and . . . I can’t figure out how I did — oh, no, I do know. By this time in the Proceedings, the manuscript would have taken over the living room, and Steve would be reading it while I did the taxes, and I would have been able to keep up better with the day-to-day paperwork because Steve would have picked up the laundry and the cooking and the dishwashing, because he would rather do those things than the taxes.

deep breath

Nope.  Still Not Preferring this timeline.

Last night, I collapsed into bed earlyish and asked the Boox to read Cuckoo’s Egg to me. Now, I have read Cuckoo’s Egg manyManyMANY times. It is, in fact, one of my favorite books. I know this story. But listening to it is a Whole Nother Experience. I have not had this particular sensation of . . . newness . . . with the other books — all old favorites, because I’m still learning — I’ve listened to, so that’s interesting.

And that I think catches us up. I’m going to take some time to excavate my desk.

Ah.  Today’s blog post title brought to you by Rocky and Bullwinkle.

Thursday open for bidness

OK, let’s see…

Thursday. Sunny and cold. Feeling much more the thing than yesterday, which — just let’s say that it was a day when you drink peppermint tea and honey because your stomach hurts and that turns out to be a bad idea.

Got in an early four hours with the WIP this morning, and have verified that I’ll be removing about 9,000 words. This is not a surprise; I kinda sorta knew I was going to hafta do it, unless I Thought of Something. Which I haven’t, so — into the Pull File they go, and maybe they’ll be useful later.

I have a doctor’s appointment at 2:30, and need to verify where I’m going. Also, I have emails that I need to answer, and! I need to tell Draft2Digital that, yes, I do want Pinbeam Books to be listed with Bookshop.

Still waiting on that one outstanding 1099-MISC.

I see that the judge overseeing the Anthropic Settlement has extended various deadlines for opting in, out, and sideways, which will likely put back the expected payout schedule, originally projected to begin in August. Granted, I never expected to see any money from this “settlement,” but the whole thing’s so infuriating that even reading the subject line kicks up the blood pressure.

And FedEx has just arrived to deliver a letter, so it looks like the range for hitting my house really is between 11:15 and noon. Which is actually useful information.

Trying to figure out if I want to try to see John Mellencamp’s off-Broadway fine-tuning of his play at Ogunquit in October. I expect if I want to do that, I’ll have to reserve a room at Ogunquit realsoonnow. Must lookout prices.

For now, I need to do my duty to the cats, and then heat up the soup I didn’t eat yesterday, ref stomachache, and — oh, yeah, find where the heck I’m supposed to be at 2:30.

How’s everybody doing today?

Late Saturday check-in

Well, then. That was Saturday.

I drafted my Remarks for my library event. I think they may be the wrong Remarks, but you can’t revise what you don’t write down. Still need to figure out how I’m going to handle the reading/what I’m going to read. I’m torn between several small scenes or one big one. May have to resort to flipping a cantra piece.

Spent part of the day loading the apps I usually use on my phone to my Samsung tablet, where they will be larger, which — in theory — will help with this current bout of eyestrain.

I also made a couple more adjustments to the new toy. It did a very credible job of reading several chapters of Getting Rid of Bradley to me last night while I just laid in the dark with ninetyleben pounds of coon cat on me, eyes closed and listening. Rookie, predictably perhaps, has really bonded with Zach.

What else? Oh, Had an email from the owner of Oliver and Company who will be handling the sales table during my event, and it seems we Have A Plan. Always good to have a Plan.

Happy Hour was a touch early tonight, and now the cats have scattered. In solidarity, I have a glass of wine with me here at the computer, and my stomach is informing me that I need to rustle something up for dinner RSN.

Tomorrow starts a Warming Trend, with temps soaring into the mid-twenties and thence into the! thirties! By ghod, it’s practically summer!

Speaking of tomorrow, next week is going to be busy. Yes . . . busy.

Tomorrow, now that my knees and hips don’t hurt enough for me to notice, I’ll change out the cat boxes, only a couple days late.

Monday, first thing, I have a PT appointment. Tuesday morning, I have a haircut scheduled, and needlework in the evening; Wednesday, I need to visit the vampyres, which may be an excuse to have breakfast out; Thursday, I have a podiatry appointment, and I should probably go to the grocery somewhere in all of that. Friday morning Sarah comes by to clean, and in the afternoon, I want to go to the tea at the library. I have a pretty flowered skirt and a top hat, so clearly the sartorial part of the venture is well under control.

Tomorrow, I will also be starting my read of the WIP, so that’ll be fun.

And that? Is the state of affairs at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.