djbp

What went before: Back from needlework. Cats have had Happy Hour. I have two more business-like things to do before I can call it a day. Aside those two things, I think I did everything that needed doing (except writing) today, including reading 50 pages of proofs.

Tomorrow sees a return to the Write First Schedule.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I'll see you tomorrow.

#

I rate two supervisors this morning. Tali is taking her off-shift in the living room.

Wednesday. Chilly. Still working with the heat pumps, but if this keeps up, I might have to turn on the actual oil heat.

The morning writing session produced +/-1,755 new words, for a grand total-ish of 87,400.

Breaking early because End of Scene, and also? I'm starving. And given that I'm losing weight, but I'm not trying to lose weight, I figured I ought to Listen To My Body.

After lunch: one's duty to the cats; walk; read page proofs; answer email -- not necessarily in that order.

What's everybody think of Snuff?
#
Frost advisory this evening!  And my rose bush has a dozen (I counted) buds on it.

Pursuant to my last post, which has Raised Questions.

Questions Have Been Asked.

A Night in the Lonesome October by Roger Zelazny is for Halloween what an Advent Calendar is for Christmas. The narrative is dated, from October 1 through October 31, save the very first chapter, which is undated, and which introduces Our Narrator, the Watchdog, Snuff. Steve and I would read this chapter on September 30.

NOTE: This book is not a one-night read; it was not MEANT to be a one-night read. It was meant to be read a chapter a day throughout the month of October. I have had people tell me that this is (1) stupid and (2) that they can't start and book and not finish it. To which I say, in the immortal words of Julie Brown: So what? and also -- you're doing the book, the experience, and the author's intention a disservice by gulping it down like a stale piece of cake.

Ahem.

The narrative relates the events leading up to Halloween, in which the characters sort themselves out into two opposing teams -- the Openers, and the Closers. For about half of the book -- until the dying of the moon -- it is impolite to ask one's affiliation.

The action takes place just outside of London. Characters include a mysterious man and his dog; a witch and her cat, a great detective, a notorious doctor, a bat-winged count, and a man who watches the phases of the moon very closely, indeed. Among others.

I recommend this book highly. I recommend that it be read a chapter a night from now until Halloween. Steve and I were first made aware of this book by the late, delightful, and still-lamented Vicki Brown, who sent us a copy back in the late nineties. We read it aloud, taking turns, every October for decades.

Our yearly ritual would start with Steve asking me, Very Seriously, on the morning of September 30, "Do you know where The Book is?" and I would go to the bookshelf, pull it out, and show it to him. He would chose a business card to serve as a bookmark, and The Book would be placed on the Mencken Table in our living room ready for reading the prologue that evening, after we were done with the working part of the day.

We would often flip for who read the first chapter, using an old Ike silver dollar.

This year, I don't have to flip the Ike, and the business card bookmark says, "Steve Miller."

I hope this clears up all the confusion I apparently caused this morning.

Up betimes because there were pony races in the hall, followed by a sound that my sleeping mind identified as "That's not right."

And, indeed, it wasn't right. Steve has a piece of burlap hanging in his office with various convention badges and buttons appended thereto. And Rookie Too-Smart had gotten one of the badges down with its lanyard and had run it down the hall to put by the bed, so I'd be sure to see it, first thing.

Sigh.

What a good boy.

Tea brewing. And look! I have an extra couple hours to write!

And how's Monday starting out for you?
#
Supervisors on duty:

 #
Small break to refill the Yeti with water and confuse the cats.

Not quite as focused on the writing this morning as I have been. I did write +/-865 words, and I intend to go back and at least plot out -- I use this term both loosely and idiosyncratically -- the scenes that are missing. Very few of those, now, which is -- I have no idea how this book is happening, but it's managing to come together, and, yanno -- I'm only the writer. Nobody tells me anything.

I really want to just continue writing today, absent breaks for staging the trash, and doing my duty to the cats, and my brain is telling me I could just call in a veggie burger from Five Guys and that would be efficient, which suggestion is entered as evidence for why I don't trust my brain.

As I said, I wasn't laser-focused this morning. For instance, I bought a slip-proof mat for my keyboard, since Steve's desk is VERY slidey. I also signed up for braiding and storytelling at First Friday, reasoning that, if I have something to actually attend on First Friday, the whole affair will make more sense to me.

The addition of the braiding made me realize that I suddenly have lots going on this week, For Values Of. Tomorrow evening, needlework; Thursday evening, my first stained glass class; Friday evening, the braiding thing; Saturday, Magic Rocks. I should also get (another!) blood test and a back xray. I can do the back xray tomorrow, but I'm a little leery about another blood test, even though this one isn't fasting, and shouldn't require more than one vial.

The above is also an illustration of why I don't take every weekend "off" -- I tend to decide to do things whenever, since writing is, to a certain point at least, malleable.

So, that. And I guess, while I'm up, I might as well perform my duty to the cats and get the trash and recycling into the garage for tomorrow.

So, I see that the Reimagined United States now has autodocs? And special hospitals that are only filled with autodocs -- excuse me -- "Med Beds" (gags), and there's one with my name on it, probably in Solcintra, but, hey, it's the thought...

How's everybody at more or less midday (Eastern US) Monday?

Today's blog post brought to you by John Parr, "St. Elmo's Fire"

Sunday. Sat with the manuscript for a couple hours, bringing some things up, adding to scenes, Tinkering with wording. Now taking a break to perform my duty to the cats (done) and rustle lunch (in process -- yam stirfry with onion and garlic and spinach) before I got back and write some more. It's a good day for writing.

I do have to read at least 35 pages a day to hit my return deadline for page proofs, so can't forget that.

Last night, I was so exhausted by the time I finished up that I couldn't eat. I just fell into bed and got unconscious. The coon cats all piled on and 9 hours later my watch is saying that my sleep was long but poor, but what does it know? Lots of dreams, many with the "feel" of Steve, no nightmares, so I'm calling a win.

The coon cats have been lounging in my office, which is nice and sunny and warm and has all the windows open for passive collection of Interesting Scents.

Aaand the spinach has just gone into the stirfry, so lunch is coming right up!

How's everybody doing today?
#
Well, that was a good writing day. I wrote a couple of bridges, hooked all but one of the scenes that have been floating in orbit around the master file into the master file, and updated the chapter-by-chapter. Still got some holes, but forward progress has gone forwarder.

At the moment, and calling into mind the wibbly-wobbly nature of the art, the Manuscript Entire weighs in at just around 83,830 words. It's looking like we're going to hit 150,000 before we get out of this, which is longish for a Liaden book, but not Stoopid Long.

It is now time to get a cookie and read 40ish pages of page proofs.

No, the thrills never do stop.
#
And that's It! All Done for the day, and I'm still standing. Almost time for Happy Hour, then a little bit of sorting for the week ahead, and actual food this evening, instead of just falling face-first into bed.

Progress.

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

What Went Before ONE: So back from the grocery store where I bought too much food. Or possibly I mean I spent too much money on food.

Turkey chili is on the stove, that being: 8 ounces of turkey, which was the last two turkey "burgers" I'd frozen backaways, a can of black beans, drained, an aseptic pack of crushed tomato, a can of diced tomato, two BIG handfuls of spinach, onion, garlic, green pepper, paprika, ginger, Worcestershire sauce, chili, and something called "Tsardust." It's all in Steve's BIG spider with a cover on, and it can perk for Awhile.

A couple days ago, I got my shiny new Pine! Tree! license plates in the mail. They were addressed to Steve Miller, though the car is listed in my name first (Steve insisted that this be so, and at the time I wondered why...). I don't suppose it's a big deal, as long as I keep paying the excise tax and keep it in fighting trim.

Tali was very interested in my chopping and mixing and playing with the stove. She exhausted now, poor child, and sprawled on the supply dresser in the window, asleep.

As I was out and about today, I heard "Pleasant Valley Sunday," courtesy of Phlash Phelps on the 60s channel. Now, I have always thought "Pleasant Valley Sunday" was a bit mean-spirited, especially for the Monkees, but today it really got up my nose. Possibly because I rejoice in my rosebush, and my lawn gets cut, and I'm living in what was, when it was first conceived, a posh, out-of-downtown development. Though I grant this house looks like no other house I've seen.

Anyhow -- an update. Maybe I go throw that load of laundry in the washer while I'm waiting for the ... whatever it is to cook down.

How's everybody doing?

What Went Before TWO: So that was edible, and not over-spiced at all, which I had been afraid I had taken my vengeance too far. I have leftovers, but that's not awful.  I declare a win.

And! A dilemma has opened before me. There's a craft fair practically in my back yard tomorrow. It would be Wrong not to attend, so I'll be goofing off for at least a little while tomorrow.

And As the Sun Goes Down:  Why look. The page proofs for the Diviner's Bow mass market just landed. Due back at Baen on October 14.

To be perfectly honest, I had Totally Lost Track of the fact that there would of course be a mass market edition of Diviner's Bow coming up RSN. Oh! At the end of January, says Amazon.

Well. I just finished a book last night, so I guess I know what I'm reading next.

In other news, I still need to do the dishes, but! I did hang the tube lights in Steve's office; and that should help with the winter time visibility in there. In order to do this, I have to move a picture to a whole 'nother location in the house, which was . . . fairly upsetting. Not as upsetting as the picture falling off the wall, however. Incrementally, we proceed. . .

So! Do the dishes in the sink. Clear the dishwasher of the clean dishes. Print Diviner's Bow (yes, really; I am a Child of Paper). Take a shower. Serve Up Happy Hour, put together a sandwich for the evening meal. Have a glass or two of wine. Read. Go to bed.

Tomorrow, indeed, I will go to the craft fair for a bit, and then I'll come home and do some work. At least the business stuff has been cleared, so I can concentrate writing and writing adjacent tasks.

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

I'll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Cloudy and cool for now, but going for the mid-70sF, with sun. Last night the skies opened several times, which the cats did not favor. They all came and sat on top of me and demanded that I make it stop.

Eventually, it did stop, but I did I get credit for deploying my Meteorological Super Powers? I did not.

Breakfast was PB&J on whole wheat English Muffin. Lunch will be something hopefully edible made with the leftover ground turkey.

NOTE TO SELF: Never buy ground turkey again. No, never. It's just ghastly.

Today is a House Day. First up, Grocery. Second, the above Turkey Challenge. Third, vacuums deployed. Fourth, maybe today I can hang the tube of lights in Steve's office, seeing as how Winter is Coming. Maybe I'll throw in a load of laundry, because I can.

I may do some more business catch up, but writing will resume tomorrow.

I want to take a moment to celebrate the "spreader" I purchased at Now You're Cooking in Bath last Friday. I bought it because it was blue and wooden and pretty and fit nicely in my hand, and not because I thought it would be in any way useful.

Backstory: Once upon a time, I used to be able to butter bread, but somewhere down the years I lost that complex ability. I mean, yes, I can get a splotz of butter on a piece of bread and more or less move it around, but any attempt to coat the bread evenly is doomed to failure, or a holed slice, and frustration, either way. This is *especially* poignant when one is trying to make a restorative grilled cheese sandwich (I mean, yes, I could use mayo, and have, but it's Not The Same, and last night I really felt I needed The Real Thing).

So, last night, in pursuit of that grilled cheese sandwich, and coming once again face flat against my shortcoming, I said aloud, as I not infrequently do, "Why won't you just spread?" And then? It came to me in a flash. I had just purchased a "spreader." I fetched it out of the drawer, took a deep breath, and applied it to the butter on the bread.

It. Was. A. Miracle.

The butter went over the bread in a smooth, even coating; the slices remained intact, and -- I cannot praise this implement highly enough, and I will be using it for all of my butter-spreading, henceforth.

Also? The grilled cheese sandwich really did the job. Aside the Cat March Against Downpours, the evening was pleasant and calm.

And that's what passes for adventure around here. What adventures are you having?

Picture of the magic spreader, table knife for comparison:

Also!  Friday morning cat census:

What went before: . . .it is too much; I will sum up. Yesterday, I visited the vampyres, who tithed me two vials, which was enough to make me sick and dizzy for the rest of the day, so nothing of note got done, unless you count new ways to be annoyed with life.

Wednesday. Rainy and chilly.

Especially chilly in Steve's office with the gaping windows that I wish he would have told me about. But, new windows -- actually doors -- are coming, so that was a decision well-made.

For those keeping track at home, I'm feeling much better. OTOH, I've said that before. . .

Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries. Lunch will be a chicken burger with a side salad. I have a lot of work to do on the business side of things, so this afternoon will be, um, busy. I do not think I will get to the grocery store today. I'm hoping tomorrow afternoon.

This morning, I wrote +/-1,870 new words. I'm starting to worry that this is going to be a very long book. The only length stipulation in our contracts is "at least 100,000 words," so I'm taking that as, "Write 'til it's Done."

Big IRL victory, here! The FedEx guy actually put the Heavy Box o'cat litter in the garage. I mean, it was done in a surly fashion -- dropped directly behind the car and at the very edge of the paving, so I'd be sure to run over it if I hadn't noticed it was there before backing out. However, I did notice it, and used the push broom to scoot it safely further under shelter, and to one side, so all's well and all like that.

The cats have been very attentive. Firefly took a half-shift while Tali and Rook attended me in Steve's office. She accompanied me to the back when I came out to fetch my third cup of tea.

I really don't have much else to offer. Yesterday was awful, and I am very tired of things that shouldn't be a problem suddenly being a problem. *shakes fist at Getting Old*

Even though I installed my wordbook in the place where the native wordbook had been on Steve's computer, LibreOffice is still not accessing them. I mean, it shows me that they're all turned on, but unless I'm typing unusually well, it's just not bothering to cross check. Well. Something else for the to-do list.

How's everybody doing, here at the center of the week?

Hard at work on a rainy day: