Tag: writing

In which pets keep us healthy

What went before: I backed up my phone, in anticipation of getting its screen replaced, one way or another.

The WIP broke 2,000 words, which was good, but they were not the words, or perhaps the feel, that I wanted, which is why word count is such a flawed indicator of progress.

Firefly and Tali sniffed noses! And Firefly initiated the contact! Big step in the right direction.  Later on, of course, she raised Holy Heck when Tali tried to join us on the blanket to read.  One step forward…

Fast forward to!

Sunday. It was snowing when the cats woke me with a BANG! at 5:30, after I had grumped at Trooper for yelling at me to get up at 4:45. Anyhow.

The snow’s stopped and the sun is doing a country dance with the clouds.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast with jelly, because I was Just. That. Cranky. Lunch — who needs lunch? Honestly, this constant having to eat a meal is really annoying. I sympathize with the Haosa.

After breakfast, I sat in the office comfy chair under the nice heated throw, and alternated glaring out the window, researching details in Salvage Right, and handwriting letters, to see if that produced more of the Feel I was going for, and — yeah, it did. No surprises, there, really, except for the perennial one — You knew handwriting those letters would improve the flow, so why did you type them? The ways writers find to impede their own process is just mind boggling.

My lap has been host to several cats. Rookie is having a tough morning — he got himself so underfoot that I stepped on his tail, and we had to have a love-fest to Make It Better.  Ten minutes later, he tried to jump from my desk to the chair, only it spun just as he took off, and he crash-landed on the floor.  Firefly smacked him in the head, since he’d just missed landing on her.

First load of towels is in the dryer; second load in the washer. Cat bowls have been refilled. The oven is heating for sugar cookies. Maybe I’ll have sugar cookies for lunch.

Today’s to-do includes more research, writing, and probably glaring. Laundry, obviously, and one’s duty to the cats. Drafting an InfoDump so it can be ready to go when I get the word that the Liaden Universe News list is up and delivering. Oh, and sweeping the front steps.

So! What time did your family pet(s) wake you up this morning?

 

Alarums and Excursions

What went before:  The WIP has broken its first milestone of 1,000 words, and in fact weighed in at 1,300 words at close of bidness.

Also, I solicited information on how to get a cracked phone screen repaired. (I dropped my phone on Sunday, and broke the screen — a personal first, though I’d hate to tell you how many times I’ve dropped my phone over the years.)

Onward.

Saturday. Chilly and bright. Were here in Central Maine are rejoicing in a Severe Weather Alert. The ‘beans apparently found an unopened bag of Winter in the back studio that nobody uses and slipped the knot.

We are therefore expecting, between 7pm this evening and 1pm tomorrow, 4-6 inches of snow. Note to self, turn the car around in the garage so it’s facing out. I was lazy yesterday and pulled straight in.

So! We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory have already experienced alarums and excursions, and that’s before we view the result of Shan’s first bout of letter-writing.

Alarum the First: Walked into the living room to find that the front door was not only unlocked, but ajar. It is of course entirely possible, not to say likely, that what happened is that I failed to lock the door last night and either air pressure or Midnight Cat Wrasslin popped it. This is also, of course, not the first thing one thinks when they find the front door open upon waking in the morning, and knowing oneself alone in the house.

So, a walk-around, heart in mouth, accompanied by cats who wished to inform me that their bowls! were! empty! They weren’t wrong (this error has since been amended), but it seemed unlikely that the Theoretical Intruder had been a Giant Polydactyl Cat, who had jimmied the door in order to steal a snack.

We appear to be secure, and yes, I should get a deadbolt, but then someone would have to install it, and, given that Someone is Not Me, the point is moot.

Alarum the Second: I had determined to have cottage cheese with pineapple cut into it for breakfast, with toast. When I opened the carton of cottage cheese that I had purchased yesterday, the carton was half full of — milk. This was distressing. I mean, the reason I eat cottage cheese is so I won’t have to drink milk, vile stuff that it is (unless, y’know, properly treated with chocolate, or fermented into skyr or yogurt or cheese). Investigation discovered the cheese curds beneath the milk, so I strained the carton. The actual food thus recovered was fine and the toast was excellent.

Given the above, it seems somewhat poor-spirited to note that there were Dusty Cat Prints on the stove top this morning. I appreciate that a girl has to investigate; I only hope she doesn’t lead the others into Error.

At this point, however, I’m a little leery of predicting, or indeed making, lunch. I think there might be some potato and leek soup. It might be a good day for potato and leek soup.

What else? Ah. My new Lunchtime Read is The Sign of the Dragon by Mary Soon Lee, illustrated by Gary McCluskey. It has a Goblin Emperor vibe, and I’m enjoying it, though I’m only about 25 pages in.

Today’s chores include — laundry!  Also, closing down the Guest Parlor, since it seems we’re Past That now, turning the car around (yes, that needs to be on the list, or I’ll forget to do it), eating something for lunch, and recording the results of Shan’s letters the First and Second.

That should, she said hopefully, keep me busy.

I see that the Elm Plaza Verizon store opens at 9am on Monday (it’s also open today and tomorrow, but that’s not pertinent to this discussion). I have a dental appointment at 12:45 on Monday, so I could plan on hitting Verizon at the stroke of 9, making sure I have a book or six with me, and if they’re not able to deal with me before noon, go to the dentist. This is the Current Plan.

What’s your Current Plan?

Tali continues to Settle In.

Book planning and Big Cat update

What went before:  Yesterday, as I was staring out the window, my brain informed me that it wanted to write an epistolary Liaden novel.  I pointed out that we couldn’t do that, because we were going back to Catalinc Station and the Action! folks, who — while they can write letters — really prefer not to.

Recommencing with the staring out the window, it — finally, some will say — dawned on me that while Diviner’s Bow and Book the Next are — ahem — “unrelated” novels, there’s a character who is leaving the traders and headed for the Station. And that this character not only knows All The Players — he corresponds with them. And the Action folk do write back to him.

I don’t usually like to think about Structure this early in a project (which may be why my first drafts always end up with everything happening on Tuesday afternoon), and I can’t in fairness to the action players have a book that is only letters, but I can use the letters to frame and illuminate the action.

And that? Sounds like fun, which none of the other things I’ve been slinging at the wall, looking for a conceit that will bear a novel, have done.

Also, the letter structure may give me room to do A Thing I wanted to do and shelved, because I couldn’t figure out how to make it fit into a novel set on the Station.

All that being said, I resolved to Sleep On It, and if it seemed good in the morning, I’d go forward.

Going forward!

Friday. Grey and chilly. ‘beans are calling for a high of 36F/2C, following yesterday’s deep freeze.

Breakfast was leftover fried rice. I don’t have one clue what lunch will be.

Today’s Big Ticket To-Do List item is Trooper’s vet appointment. He’s been … off … with many many complaints, so either I’m providing really subpar service or something’s up. I worry; he’s 15, and he’s outlived both his childhood sweetheart, and their daughter.

Speaking of cats. Negotiations have taken a major step forward. I’m awaiting a call from the escort, and it could — could! — be that the new director will be with us on Monday. This will require some finagling in and around the Greater Portsmouth NH Megalopolis, and thus we await that call from the escort, with deets.

The Hybrid Epistolary Novel still sounds good to the me, so! Next step is to open a file and start writing.

That’s all I’ve got; hours spent staring out the window don’t make for a riveting narrative.

What’s your riveting narrative for the day?

Below, a “memory” offered up by the photo app on the phone.  Sprite and Steve, sharing a moment.

In Which the Poolish Survives the Night

What went before:  I did finish “Core Values” last night — go, me!

I have a bunch of these little so-called Spot thermometers from ThermoWorks, and I put them in various places, trying to find the warmest place to overnight the poolish.  It turns out that the dining room microwave is by far the warmest spot.

Onward.

Sunday. Still dim, but I can see an orange crack in the sky behind the trees.

Got up early to check the poolish, which — Against All Odds — not only survived the night, but was bubbly and stinky, and Just What the Baker Wanted.

Dough is in for the first rise. I’m drinking my first cup of tea and should probably turn my thoughts toward breakfast.

For those following along at home, it turns out that the Heritage Microwave in the dining room is the warmest spot in the kitchen-and-kitchen-adjacent rooms, by a good 2 degrees, so that’s where the poolish overnighted, to what success we have seen.

Aside the baking of bread, today is Tax Paperwork Review, and filing, because I let it stack up again, banking, and other mundane details — and I’ve got to finally deal with the whole stevemillerwrites thing, which I’m still inclined to let go.

I see that we’re starting to play Twenty Questions regarding the new director. I’m not just being playful; I don’t want to jinx anything. Believe me, I’m just as excited as you are. We can all practice Being Patient together.

So, that’s what’s exciting at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory, this early Sunday morning.

Who else is having an exciting morning?

If this goes on…

Thursday. Coolish, cloudy, and intermittently breezy. Hoping that the wind dries all available outside surfaces, else we’ll have a skin of ice on everything as the weather starts its slide back into winter.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with cheese and salmon, rye toast on the side. Kettle on for the second cup of tea. Lunch…soup and a salad is my best guess at this time.

First load of laundry is in the dryer. I may have one more load to do; will look about me.

I had such fun yesterday staring into space and making notes, that I’ll be devoting a sizeable chunk of today for doing the same. Yesterday’s Great Writing Insight was that Shan is the thread that’s tying several, widely separated, story lines together, so, yanno, I’m glad we found a way to get Shan and trade and all that boring stuff that nobody wants to read about back into over-arc.

Which reminds me. This is your Occasional Reminder that! just because an author writes about A Thing, does not mean she “believes in” That Thing. We may for instance, write about discrimination, or clone armies, faster-than-light drives, or — oh, cake! Do we think it’s All Good? Well — no.  Or — not necessarily.

For one thing, stories without challenges for the characters to meet — big challenges, little challenges, doesn’t make that much difference, though I prefer a mix — are boring, for the characters, the writer, and the reader. This is why stories have bad guys, or bad systems, or, I dunno, bad plumbing.

But more importantly, writers write about all kinds of things, as those things catch our attention, and we almost always write in the service of our Prime Directive, which is — anybody?

Yes, you, back there in the penguin hat. I’m sorry — wh– Yes, exactly! Thank you.

IF THIS GOES ON.

If a particular situation here-stated continues unchecked — what can-or-might happen? There’s a story in that, and writers live to tell stories.

If I were feeling argumentative, which, believe it or not, I’m not — I might put forth the notion that the important question here isn’t what the writer “believes in” in a particular story, but what the reader takes from it. Who do you think the good guys are? Do you think protected populations and clone armies are a good idea? How about brainwashing as a way to control people who might be “too creative”? And so on. Granted, people — and I include myself, here — are rarely that insightful, but I think those are worthy questions to hold in reserve for introspective moments.

And, all that said — What’s everybody doing today?

Below, two pictures of Steve from January 1 2024, when he’d come into my office to tune his air guitar.  (Copilot’s note:  These are not sad pictures; this was not a sad occasion, just every day shenanigans.  One of the pics is titled “Stevie ‘Guitar’ Miller” which is a play on something or ‘nother from that Other Steve Miller)

 

Onward

Sunday. Snowing.

First cup of tea has brewed. Breakfast will be skyr and toast because it’s easy and I can eat it while I read.

Today! is copy edits, and trying to make some sense of the additions to the glossary.

Last night, I watched the first episode of the Marlow Murder Club. I’m interested enough to watch the second.

After — yeah, eyes wouldn’t focus sufficiently to read, and I’d already been reading all day. I listened to The Goblin Emperor for a bit (which was comforting), and so to bed.

Firefly is in the window, watching the snow. Trooper wants to know what I’m doing at the damn’ computer AGAIN, and Rook just came in from the other room to find out what Trooper’s yelling about.

Whatcha doin’ today?

Why Writers Drink, Part — are to we ten million, yet?

Saturday. Cold and grey.

We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory are under Rush Orders from the publisher and so will be scarce until the copy edits have been reviewed/accepted/rejected.

<complaint>I had A Plan. My Plan was to write a nice, comfortable short story, to get back into the mindset of writing-not-editing, interspersed with making chili, breads, and other Stuff for the freezer so as to be prepared to slip into writing the next book. Forget that Plan.</complaint>

Kettle’s on. Breakfast will be PBnJ onna whole wheat English muffin. Lunch — oh, who knows.

I did set the alarm for O’Ghod O’Clock, and I did get up to turn up the thermostats. But then I went back to bed for another hour, because I’d rather work late in a warm house than early in a freezing one.

And that? Is the news that’s fit to print.

Everybody stay warm, or cool, or whatever may be appropriate.

Attack of the blanket pirates

Friday. Sunny and cold. 23F/-5C right now, said to be heading all the way up to 26F/-3C.

Breakfast was a blueberry muffin. Kettle on for second cup of tea, while I wait for the sun to clear the trees. Lunch will be turkey cutlet, since I bought a pack on sale. One for today, three more to freeze for later.

So! It snowed yesterday. The plowguy came and took care of most of it. The little bit that came down after his visit really is a little bit. I threw ice melt on the steps before I filled the kettle for the first cup of tea.

Today, I go to gym, even though it’s cold and what I really want to do is curl up under a blanket and nap. Adulting sucks. While I’m out, I’ll hit the post office, and the grocery, then I’ll be in until Monday, when the gym once more will require my presence.

I had a good day of writing yesterday — 1,958 new words, bringing the short story to +/-2,575. That was hand-drafted while sitting in the comfy chair in my office, then transcribed/edited/typed into the computer. Absent the option of napping under a blanket, the comfy chair, pad and pen to hand, is looking like where I’ll be this afternoon.

I started to read Alliance Unbound, realized within the first three pages that I had no idea who these people were, and am now re-reading Alliance Rising. I remembered that Steve and I had read it out loud to each other, but — 2018? Yeah. A lot has happened since 2018, not forgetting that we wrote seven books and a buncha short stories of our own, since.

In Actual News: The preorders for Sea Wrack and Changewind have suddenly taken off — thanks to everyone who took the time! We’re now at 264 Amazon preorders; 10 Apple; 2 BN; 9 Kobo. Amazon also lets me know that the ebook edition is the Number One New Release in Fantasy Anthologies and Short Stories.

The trade paper edition of Sea Wrack… will go on sale on Friday, December 13. The ebook will publish on December 17. The hardcover — I’m waiting for a proof of the hardcover, which will not arrive yet for *weeks*, so any hardcover edition will be well down the road.

And that’s the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s new with you?

Oh, I may or not have reported here that I bought a new blanket during my trip to the local salvage place a couple days ago.  Yesterday, it came under inspection from the Quality Control Team.  I think it passed…

In which practice makes perfect, eventually

Wednesday. Sunny and cold. The Weatherbeans are calling a rain/snow event, starting this evening and continuing through tomorrow morning.

Breakfast was an apple fritter (what? They came in a box of three; I should waste them?) and cottage cheese. Second cup of tea brewing. Lunch — oh, what do I know?

Today, I am at home to work persons of various skill, and I have one additional phone call to make.

There’s a load of laundry in the washer, though I’m not sure how far I’ll be going down that path today.

Ingredients for a loaf of whole wheat bread are out on the counter, ahem, coming to room temperature.

Firefly and Rook are playing tag. This in the aftermath of Rook leaping into my lap while I was finishing breakfast, and putting his paw in the last spoonful of cottage cheese. Surprisingly, he did not receive the rest of the spoonful as a reward for his cleverness.

As reported elsewhere, I wrote 750 words last night in service of the short story I want to write. Morning light discovers them to be the wrong 750 words, but the fortunate part is that I now know how to get to The Point in a much more economical and, um, surprising, way. So, I’ll be thinking about that some more as I get the bread ready for its first rise.

I finished reading The Masquerades of Spring last evening, and liked it a great deal. I believe I’ll start Alliance Unbound this evening. Unless of course my eyes don’t want to focus, in which case my Plan B is to start listening to The Goblin Emperor.

So, those are the Big Wednesday Plans hereabouts.

Who else has Big Plans?

Below you see the coon cats, already at work.