Tag: writing

Is it drafty in here?

The Long Back Yard

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Was hitting the keyboard by 7 am, taking a break now to take trash out ahead of the Winter Weather Event that’s rolling in. I think that most of the accumulation will be on the coast, and so does the tree guy, who thinks he’ll be by tomorrow to take down my two dead pines and do some tree work for the next door neighbors.

I have a date downtown with friends tomorrow, and I hope we won’t be snowed out.

How’s everybody doing this morning?
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Cardinal (male, for those who don’t see cardinals in their back yards):

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Added about 1,000 words to the WIP this morning. Breaking for lunch. Still hoping to be able to have a Good Enough Draft by the end of the day. Can’t type with my fingers crossed, though.

I am somewhat confused by the weather report. Seems like now we may just get a few flakes, which would be OK by me.

Tali tells me that she Very Much Likes pork and sauerkraut. I take leave to doubt this intelligence.

And so the midday report.
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Upcoming Author Event
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That’s it. I’m calling this the Good Enough for Rock ‘n Roll Draft. It does not properly end; it stops. This is not particularly unusual in our Good Enough for Rock ‘n Roll Drafts, and I might as well stop here.

I wrote just over 3,700 words today, bringing this draft to +/-138,880 words. For comparison, Salvage Right was turned in at 132,000 words.

I will, oh, on Wednesday, put out a call for Beta Readers. If you’re thinking you’d like to do this, bear in mind that what you will be reading is a draft — which not only means that it likely has holes in it, but there are without a doubt misspellings, ugly sentences, disreputable punctuation and a shipload of other errors present.

What I’m saying is that beta reading is not for the faint of heart, the short of patience, or, really, the short of time.

This is not, notice, the Formal Call; that will come on Wednesday, when I will also explain what the nitty-gritty of beta reading means to me.

Rookie has been running up and down the hall like a crazy man for the last hour, looking for Happy Hour. Happily, I have Happy Hour right here in my pocket, and realsoonnow, I’ll be serving that up.

The weather beans have abandoned the whole snow idea up here in the center of the state for right now. We may, it says here, get an inch on the overnight. Which is, actually, very good news.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

The Writing Life

The Long Back Yard:

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Saturday. Snowing, but lightly. There may be half-an-inch of new stuff on the ground.

Breakfast was cream cheese on toast with a side of grapes. Breaking now for lunch and to bake pork chops, so I can have something to eat tomorrow (today, I’m having the other half of yesterday’s sandwich and a bowl of lemon-orzo soup).

Wrote about 1,200 words this morning. Intend to go back after lunch and write some more.

Did PT Homework Part One, and my duty to the cats. Prepped the pork chops that are now in the oven.

The cats are in Steve’s office. Tali’s feeling feisty today, she threw Rook off of the top of the cat tree, and then took over his box on the desk. He has retired to Scrabble’s Basket, which resides on its own stand in the V made by the sliders.

Speaking of sliders, I need to take measurements so I can order in some up-and-down blinds from Blindster. They promise me no-tools installation, so I’m in.

And? I think that’s all I’ve got. I have not looked at the news today, and that seems to be working well, so I’ll be continuing there.

What’s happening at your house today?

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Tali’s new PR photo:

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Saturday evening. Still snowing. Might be an inch out there by now.

Wrote just about 3,100 words today, bringing the total wordcount to +/-135,155. I may actually finish this draft tomorrow, for values thereof.

All cats have had their front claws clipped. Two out of a possible three cats cursed mightily at this indignity and have sworn to File Complaints. Firefly was Stoic, today.

Speaking of Firefly, her fans may recall that she really doesn’t “get” the whole spring thing. Tali is a very enthusiastic player. Rook, who really is Scary Smart will chase the spring, and either bring it back to me so I can throw it again, or will guide me to where it’s gone, so I can throw it again.

Firefly — eh. The spring bounces over her head, she shrugs and walks away. It lands at her feet and the only thing she does is sit there. Unless Tali careens into her, whereupon she’ll pound Tali in the head.

So — no chasing the spring for Firefly.

She will, however, barter them. It goes like this: she does understand that the springs have value, and she will occasionally go find one, and then come to me, making her “I caught one!” sound. Which is my cue to? Get out the Cat Dancer or the blue octopus, so she can play in her preferred manner.

What’s also interesting is that the other two recognize that she has purchased this time, and, while they’ll watch her play (sometimes, they don’t even bother to attend her play session), but they won’t intrude on it.

And they say cats are dumb.

So! Time for a glass of wine, I think.

Everybody stay safe; have a good night. I’ll check in tomorrow.

In which the writer writes

The Long Back Yard:

Thursday. Got up at 5:30, because that’s when I woke up.

Rained all day. Except for short breaks for PT homework, and eating lunch, doing one’s duty the cats, and moving laundry from the washer to the dryer to the bed, I spent all day on Catalinc Station. Wrote about 2,100 words, WIP stands at something more or less like 132,000. And I still haven’t gotten to The End.

Speaking of laundry. I was just now sitting on the bed, pairing up my socks, under Rookie’s close supervision, when he stood up, grabbed a sock off my lap and headed west with it. I did catch him before he took it down to the cellar.

The spine doctor’s office called today to gather information ahead of tomorrow’s visit, and I’m feeling encouraged. The person I was talking to actually listened and asked follow-up questions that actually followed up on what I’d said.

So, I’m about done for the day, excepting a look at the email to see if there’s anything I have to answer. If not, I’ll read for a while, grab a sandwich and a glass of wine and call it day.

Tomorrow’s going to be V. Cold at the ocean, but I believe I will time my trip so I have time to swing by the Actual Ocean and breathe in some salt air.

And that? Is all I’ve got. Writing being boring like it is.

What did y’all do today?

Oh! I am remiss in saying that the heated foot pads are awesome and I don’t know how I lived without them.

 

Write the day away

The Long Back Yard

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Writing is all about the clothes

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Tali decided to go full paws-on

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So, that was a day. What day? Wednesday!

I slept “late” because I was exhausted from all my carrying-ons yesterday, and beyond that, I can’t tell you where the day went. Well. I can actually tell you where the day went, but that would contain spoilers.

In broad terms, it says here that I wrote +/-3800 words today, a figure I take leave to doubt. I’m thinking I probably missed a word count somewhere along the line. I sure of +/-2000, so let’s leave it there. The WIP entire now stands at 128,270ish words, and we are at that fun part in the proceedings where the more words you write toward the resolution, the further away the end gets.

Also, I made the mistake of answering the telephone — I have got to get with Fidium and find out wtF they’ve done to my landline, someday when I have three hours to sit on hold, which isn’t happening this week.

Anyhoot, I answered the phone and as a result of this hasty action, I have an appointment at Neurosurgery and Spine (no, not a law firm) on Friday at 2pm. It would appear that Neurosurgery and Spine is in Scarborough. Maybe I’ll go down early and hit up OOB. Oh, wait. I think I know where this place is. Sort of. Which is why the gods in their infinite wisdom gave us GPS.

So! I have tomorrow to write all day, then Friday I’m traveling, then Saturday and Sunday to write.

It’s an odd life, but mine own.

How’s everybody doing?

Today’s blog post title brought to you, sideways, by Van Halen, “Dance the Night Away“

Old brains for new

The Long Back Yard.  For those who don’t know why I do this:  The daily picture of the Long Back Yard is what the Long Back Yard looks like when I wake up.  Yesterday’s picture was not a photographic or an uploading error.  Thank you.

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Something a little different — Steve Miller and Sharon Lee signing Plan B at Mr. Paperback in Skowhegan Maine in 1999.

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All righty, then! That was Monday.

1,830ish new words written; the WIP now stands at 127,250ish. I have eight scenes left to write, and I know what they are and I just want to keep on going, but — why do brains get tired? Definite design flaw. I want a refund. I had used to want a new brain, but I’ve finally figured out how to (mostly) work with this one.

Tomorrow? There will be no writing. I have A List.

pulls list out of sleeve
AHEM
1 Take trash and recycling to curb
2 7:45 go to PT
3 Go to grocery
3a Stop home and put groceries away
4 Go to Augusta
4a,b,c Run a stack of errands that have piled up since last week
5 Come home
5a Eat something
6 Go to needlework
7 Come home and faceplant

Wednesday through Sunday, however, I got nothing. Fingers crossed that I will be able to type a provisional –end– by Sunday night.

Re: being tired of a book in progress: Writing a book is an enormous undertaking; a stupidly complex project that takes way too long (NOTE: I do not speak here for the people who write 58 books a year and laugh while they do it. I am not them.). As with any other large, complex project, like, say, building a boat, there are times in the process when you just wanna throw your hammer out the window and walk away. Not because you think what you’re building is useless or dreadful (though there are those moments, too), but just because it’s taking So. Damned. Long.

Writers have a far different relationship with their books than readers do, starting with the disparity in the time it takes to write a book and the time it takes to read that same book.

And that’s Monday at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’d everybody’s day go?

In which the plan changes, and changes again

The Long Back Yard

The toilet is fixed. Steve Symonds deserves a twenty-five flower parade.

I would like the record to show that I? could never have fixed this myself. A hacksaw was involved.

‘nough said.
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Sunday. Cloudy and cooler than it’s been tending.

Got up early because that’s when I woke up. Oatmeal for breakfast. Chicken breast for lunch if it happens to have thawed. If not, something else.

Wrote, oh? 700 words this morning. Given the timing of breakfast, it’s probably not too early to start investigating the idea of lunch. I will do my duty the cats first, in the interests of going back to writing after lunch.

Yes, I am pushing, but I’m at the stage where “almost done!” is driving the writing engine, and, as I may have mentioned once or twice: I’m really tired of this book.

I put up the “Roman” curtain over the window in the front door, and while it’s better than what was there, I’m not convinced it’s actually what I want for the sliders in Steve’s office. If the tie-ups were longer so I could actually adjust the shade to the height of my choosing, which you would think would be the point of this design, I might be convinced. As it is — meh.

I watched two? three, maybe? episodes of Spy Family last night and it is not for me. May try another title this evening, if I don’t faceplant first.

I am aware that I am taking way long with the Agent of Change readalong — I plead illness. Also, yes, I, too, am reading Conflict of Honors. Things will happen as they happen at this point. Total chaos for the win.

How’s everybody doing today?
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Steve Miller, The Empire State Carousel, Fennimore Farm Museum, Cooperstown NY, June 21, 2023.  Photo by Sharon Lee.

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Change of plan, because weather and also brain wants a rest.

So! Wrote just a smidge over 1,000 words today. WIP now at 125,440ish.

You know how you’re sick, after you’re well again, you have to do all the things you let slide? Yeah, that would be my realization today. If there’s eight feet of snow on the ground on Tuesday, I’ve got to get the trash to the curb, so I went out while it was still warm(ish) to load the toboggan with trash bags and fill up the recycling bin. So, that’s ready for Tuesday morning, no matter what.

Also, I missed changing out the cat boxes, ref “sick” above, so that will be my next trick, after which I get a shower, sweats, and ice cream in my blanket fort.

This means I can write tomorrow, and get the trash out before I have to be at PT on Tuesday morning (boy, am I gonna be in trouble with the therapist), with the least possible amount of exertion, and, hopefully, no crazypants.

I’ll just say my good-evenings now. Kind of a weird day, but, some days are weird.

Everybody stay safe.

Long day

What went before:

Saturday. Sunny and warm. Snow is melting apace.

Breakfast was, as planned, the leftovers from yesterday’s chef salad scrambled with two eggs, which made for a pretty big meal. Not sure what lunch is. Cheese and crackers? Could be cheese and crackers.

Got to work early despite having to stop and fix the toilet in Steve’s bathroom. I should say, mostly fix. It’s stopped the constant running, but the float seems to have sprung a leak, so there’s still a little water running out of it. I’ve been resisting calling a plumber, becau$e, but that may be a false economy.

Wrote about 700 words, and taking a break because that last scene reduced me to, um, tears.

It occurred to me that there ought to be heated mats to go under desks, and there are, byerlady! So — retail therapy FTW — a mat for Steve’s office, a mat for the studio — a mat for my office? Oh, why not?

After shopping, I’ll go back to write some more until lunch time, after which it’s track changes, which, with the application of a bit of elbow grease, I may finish today, and wouldn’t that be nice?

Also? Despite having been doing nothing for days, the desk in my office is once again overflowing with stuff. I hope the goblins haven’t found another way in.

I bought a very nice “beginner” demonstrator pen from JetPens — it arrived yesterday. My only beef is that it’s a cartridge pen, but there’s getting to be some days when I oughtn’t be left alone with a bottle of ink, so there is that.

I can’t really tell you much about this pen, since the packaging is completely in Japanese. I can say it’s a Pilot pen, and it’s name appears to be kaküno. Writes nice and smooth; very light in the hand. I haven’t dropped it yet, so can’t report on its durability. Cheap, too. Under $15US. I got the medium nib, because that’s the way I roll. If you’ve been thinking about trying a fountain pen, this might be worth your time to explore.

Thanks to everyone who suggested anime worthy of watching. I remember I was looking for Spy Family the day Steve died… This is not to lay blame or to invoke the Sad, but to say that I had apparently thought we’d enjoy it, and while I have Crunchyroll, I might as well have a look-in.

And, yes, I am talking about trivialities while the world is on fire. The only thing I can do at this point, is what I always do, and be a witness for civilized behavior.

deep breath

How’s everybody doing today?
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So, yeah — cheese and crackers and an orange. That’s lunch, innit? Am drinking “figgy pudding” tea from my Christmas teas. I had not been sanguine, going in, but it’s quite tasty and delivers the warmth that the rest of the meal lacked.

On the writing front, that’s +/- 1,340 new words. WIP stands at +/-124,785.

As soon as I’ve finished my tea, I will do my duty the cats, then clear a space on my desk so I can track me some changes.

The cats think I ought to take a nap, and they’re probably not wrong…
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Toe bean break:


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Yeah, I should’ve taken a nap. OTOH, the track changes are done and returned, and! I managed to turn off the water running into the toilet, go me.

I had made a comment the other day in my rant about the cost of Sssses and the prevailing wisdom of adding a “third” S to perfectly good words. Sometimes, in fact, the prevailing wisdom only adds one extra S.

Example: Chaos’s

That? Is an ugly something or other.

In my day, believe it or don’t, when you had a situation where you needed to show that Chaos was being possessive, you indicated that by this: Chaos’

Which looks much better to me than all these random Sssses wriggling all over the page.

All that said? I’m tired, and Rookie is insisting that it’s Happy Hour, so it must be time for me to wash the pots ‘n pans.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

The Friday Report

So, I woke up at 5:45, and my neck was swollen and sore again and I addressed the universe in a disrespectful manner. Then I took the Command Decision to FTS, got up, got dressed, made a cup and a thermos of tea, took that and a KIND breakfast bar back to Steve’s office, woke up his computer and got to work.

I broke for lunch around noon, having written about 800 words — lunch being a chef’s salad from the deli. I ate a little more than half with a serving of soup I’d had in the freezer. Tomorrow, I’ll put what’s left — some meat, cheese, tomato and onions — into scrambled eggs for breakfast, so that’s ONE meal figured out for tomorrow.

Returned to Steve’s office after lunch and wrote some more. Got tired eventually and quit for the day. Did my duty to the cats. Waiting for the mail to arrive so I can bring in the package that’s supposed to be included before the ink freezes, then take a shower and probably collapse.

I should report that I feel somewhat better than I did when I woke up. I did take the combined Motrin, and if the kind of pain I woke up with this morning is what it’s keeping at bay — all honor to it. Also used hot compresses on my neck.

The cats have been hanging in all day, which was! Cloudy and warm. Snow is melting, or at least compacting. I’m really glad I asked the Magnificent Plowguy to sand the driveway. HUGE improvement.

Finished watching The Apothecary Diaries last night. My *goodness*, that was some tight storytelling! Well done, writers.

I can now cancel Crunchyroll. I do, yes, realize, that there’s a ton of anime offered there, but the chances of my stumbling upon anything actually worth watching are, um, low. If anybody had a rec that’s worth keeping Crunchyroll around for — by all means speak. My taste, apparently, runs to stuff like AD. Back in the day I liked Fruit Baskets and … the one with the duck — ah. Princess Tutu. Writing Anime. If that’s not a subgenre, it ought to be.

And the mail’s in! And Rook is chasing Tali around my office because it’s all her fault. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what “it” is.

Writing stats: New words written (I think not all of these today, but honestly, what do I know?): +/-2,190. Total words in WIP: +/-124,117.

And that’s the beans.

How’s everybody holding up?

Earlier today.  Firefly had ennui.

It’s plain to see we’re over

Wrote about 1,000 words so far. Taking a break to do PT homework, and to open the door so the FedEx guy could put the cat litter in the vestibule for me, and to come to terms with a couple of hard truths.

Hard truth number 1 — I’m not going to be able to give stained glass the attention it deserves. I want to do it, but — writing first, and cats, and PT, and having to sleep — and I don’t have time to embrace another art as it deserves. I hate this, but here we are. I still intend to finish my second piece, but I think I won’t be going forward.

Damn.

Second hard truth — I’m really glad I had two other people read the results of my MRIs and talk to me about what they mean, because I just got a note from my doctor saying that the results are “unremarkable.” Now, the results are not epically bad, and if I keep at the PT, I can probably get to a place where my back will be stronger and less likely to kick out (though it occurred to me last night that I still need some kind of drug intervention on hand for if/when it does), but the tone of this thing is “It’s all in your head,” which, when I was a kid and having a hard time figuring out what was this “real” people kept talking about, was devastating. I’d gotten it wrong again, and mixed up Story Stuff and Real Life Stuff.

My skill level on that front is much better 60-odd years down the road, and now? I’m mad. No, it is not in my head. Yes, it is remarkable because if I don’t do something now, it will get worse. Jeebus, do I gotta explain this stuff to a doctor?

Also, there’s a bill from the practice, which, yeah, I really feel like paying.

What else? Oh. I brought my boom box up from the studio and rigged it up with an extra set of Steve’s high-end Bose speakers, and now I can listen to CDs from our own collection in the living room in the evening when the cats and I retire to read, and I’m not dependent on Sirius or Maine Public playing exactly what I want to hear.

Speaking of which — this morning I heard something interesting on Sirius XM (thank you, Tommy London). Once Upon a Time, there was a band called Damn Yankees, which was a pretty good band — Ted Nugent, Tommy Shaw, Jack Blades, and Michael Cartellone — that put out two pretty good albums. And, as they were on their way, literally, to the studio to get album number three in the can, they were contacted by their agent. Their label was offering them a million bucks not to make the album.

They took the money, and the band . . . disbanded.

Now, I have no idea what discussions ensued before they made their decision, but, my ghod, what a decision to have to make. And I can see that one consideration would be that, if the label wanted to get rid of them to the tune of a cool mil, if they didn‘t take the money, it was likely the third album would never be promoted and the band would still have to disband — and be broke, too.

Well.

Time for PT homework. I may send out for Chinese for lunch. Or not. I have leftover curry. Speaking of decisions…
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I’m always pleased when Steve joins me for my walk. Today I was offered the insight that the thing which has blocked my finishing of my second piece of stained glass isn’t a lack of time — when I was cutting pieces out, I’d go to the studio for an hour in between writing this or that and cut glass — but lack of a tool, which also comes down to a lack of time. I don’t have a grinder, and I therefore need to rent a studio and drive out for what amounts to a day to grind my pieces.

If I had a grinder in-house, I could just keep on with my hour of Art While I Think.

So, now what I need to ask is: Am I committed enough to this new art to purchase a grinder?

Whole different question.

And? Collaboration in action.
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So that’s a total of 1,841 words on the day, bringing the WIP to 121,060ish. The scene I wrote today may be too long, but I liked the character. And of course the minute I got up, I thought of two other things that need to happen in that scene, so! I printed it out to read tomorrow morning while I’m in the comfy chair with the sunlamp.

I’m thinking this weekend is divesting myself of Christmas. The wreath is kinda bleeding needles, and the cats are not fans.

I had leftover curry for lunch, and by virtue of adding leftover peas and rice, and throwing in some onions and some green pepper, there’s still curry left over, though I’ll probably give it a break tomorrow.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Everybody stay safe and have a good evening.

I’ll look in tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Deep Blue Something, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”

Oh, no, wait! That’s not all I’ve got. Here, have a picture of Rookie.

Thursday. . .

The Long Back Yard

So. Thursday. Grey and on-and-off snow showers. Yes, that means I now have a icy driveway with a coating of snow.

I went to bed more or less at my regular time, and got up more or less at my regular time. Tali came to keep me company while I sat with the Happy Lite, and after breakfast, all three of the cats hustled me back to Steve’s office, with three very high tails: Oh, Good! Mom’s gonna work!

Breakfast was — all together now! — oatmeal with peanut butter and chocolate chips (Note to self: get more peanut/almond butter). Lunch was chicken in butter masala over rice with grapes on the side (Note to self: get more chicken breasts). Before anybody gets too excited the sauce came out of a jar, but I quick defrosted the chicken and browned it, so, yay! Cooking.

I had to name a ship and a Scout Archivist team, so I only wrote about 700 new words, though part of that was:

“Is that humor?”

Jen Sin thought for a moment. “Do you know? I’m not certain.”

Next up is putting away dishes, washing pots ‘n pans and writing some notes for the next section of Agent of Change. I’ll post a link when it’s up.

How’s everybody doing today?