Typing With Wet Paws: Almost Mid-December Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Holiday mode is setting in here, as Aunt Linda has the weekend off, which means Mama Anna can rope her into holiday related shenanigans. There will be several of those, I am sure, as Mama Anna has her Christmas planner/journal in full swing. That’s probably because she’s been sleeping a lot better as of late. I can take credit for part of that, as I am not playing around when it comes to bedtime. Especially since Papa is usually in bed first, and that makes it super cozy when we are all in there together. I get Mama Anna into bed, under the covers, and then I flip over so she can rub my belly until one of us falls asleep.

photo by Rheuben Bowling

Word on the street (okay, floor) is that the humans are putting up the Christmas tree on Sunday, probably on the kitchen table/Mama Anna’s journaling spot. There will be new ornaments this year, and part of the shenanigans abovementioned, will be the obtaining of a tree topper, which we did not have last year. Mama Anna says she wants a star, with lights that blink and/or chase. As you can imagine, I am extremely interested in this sort of thing. Will keep you updated as things progress.

Speaking of progress, let’s take a look at Mama Anna’s Goodreads Challenge. As of this writing, she is only four books behind schedule, with eighty books read out of her goal of ninety. Not too out of reach, especially with the weekend ahead, and a low-key Christmas planned. She plans on closing the gap with audiobooks and novellas if needed. She is getting that win by any means necessary.

As for writing, that is honestly going rather well. Slowly, but well. I’ll let her talk about that part, but moving to a two blog a week thing is paying off. Of course, one of those is mine, because quality content, am I right? I can’t take credit for the fiction, though, but I am definitely performing my Mews duty, sticking close and sending love beams. When, that is, I’m not trying to get into the third drawer in the big dresser.

For the last few days, I have been doing everything in my power to get into that particular drawer. Mama Anna wasn’t sure at first, why, other than that I can reach it from the top of my house (big cardboard box, if you’re new here) but standing on my hind legs and reaching and pawing at it with what can only be described as ardent determination. Then the time came when she wasn’t willing to put up with my folderol any longer, and she opened the drawer to see what I was after with such importance.

It was catnip. The big bag of catnip she thought she had put in the refrigerator but was not in the refrigerator, because it was in that drawer. Stil is, really, but now that I know that she knows that I know what’s in there, I only have to ask her nicely for some catnip when I want it. She’s pretty sharp that way. I have also heard the words “red dot” and “cat castle” mentioned in the same sentence as “presents,” so this holiday bodes well.

Headbonks!

Storm

And Then One Day, You Do

The art, and probably science, of coming back to oneself, especially as a creative, after a significant trauma, is not a straight line, but more like a manic freeform scrawl, like what one might find if a toddler were given a Sharpie and a blank white wall. It feels like forever. It feels big and blinding and impossible. It’s at once a fever dream and a much-desired goal. How to get there, though? Beats me. I have been through this journey more than once, may well again, as I still have some time in front of me, and each time is going to be different.

it also involves a lot of The Sims, or maybe that’s just me

There are big chunks of wanting to do the things that make a person the unique individual that they are, to get the creative voice to make a sound, but …not. There is knowing the thing, knowing one likes the thing. The thing is right there. One could do the thing. This crawls through one’s brain like a news crawler. One wants to do the thing. One wants to like doing the thing. One wants to have done the thing. Does one do the thing? No. Why?

Season 5 Whatever GIF by Paramount+
Lucy says it best

The easiest explanation I have, for my own individual case, is that there aren’t enough spoons. If you’re not familiar with spoon theory, it’s kind of like the pain scale. Basically, there is only so much energy a person has when dealing with a chronic condition, it’s finite, and putting spoons in one place means they can’t go in another. Sometimes they go to playing Sims for a few months or rearranging the furniture, or constructing planners or whatever happens to fill the need at the time. It’s different for everybody. It also very seldom resembles what the person thinks it’s going to be.

For me, I thought it was going to mean gorging myself on a steady stream of historical romance, preferably from my keeper boxes. Probably Netflix/Hulu binges, and oh the writing I was going to do. I’ve done some. I hired my first indie editor, the fabulously talented Jessica Cale, and got through the first round of edits, which then just…sat. Because. As with the reading. As with the viewing. As with the total lack of listening to music, which has some interesting results for my Spotify year in review. I will also mention the war between a mad race to the end of my Goodreads challenge, or shrugging that off and deciding it is what it is.

And then. Because there is always an “and then” when it comes to this sort of thing. Thing is though, there is no sort of time table, though one would be incredibly useful. Maybe, though, we write it as we go. At any rate, we go about it one foot in front of the other, maybe even plodding through rambly blog posts, or lack of blog posts and it gets annoyingly tedious. Will This Ever End? Maybe there has been some writing, but it’s more like going for a hike with a cartoon style ball and chain around one’s ankle. Doable, and one can technically get to one’s destination, but is one going to appreciate the scenery and/or have a lovely chat along the way? Possibly not so much.

But back to the “but then.” Then one day, one does. Oh, look, I’m reading a book. Oh look, I finished watching a series on Netflix. Oh look, I added something new to Spotify. Oh look, sleep tracker shows a steady bunch of nights that count as decent rest. That’s all good stuff. It’s not one thing. The ball and chain doesn’t drop off dramatically. It gets ground down by a million single steps. Online chats. You Tube videos playing in the background when not looking at the screen. Mindless tablet scrolling, like treading water in an infinity pool, no agenda in mind.

Then one day, the ball and chain isn’t there. It’s weird. Writing is a challenge, and then, one day, it’s …normal? The way it should be? Familiar? Sort of “oh, there you are.” Not exactly the same, because I don’t think that’s possible, but okay. Stepping from one room into another.

Do I know where this is going?

Season 5 Whatever GIF by Paramount+

Not sure, but it’s real, and it’s true, and writing it feels good, so I am going to hit the publish button and then get on with my day. Moving to a two blog a week schedule, one of those Storm’s responsibility, honestly has made a difference in my fiction writing, so I am thinking of keeping the practice beyond December. Not sure yet; we’ll see, but putting the emphasis on writing romance fiction, feels right.

Hmm, probably time for a new signoff graphic.

Pre-Thanksgiving Rambles

This morning, for my weekly chat with bud Mary, I turned my folding desk around, so that my back was not to an off-white wall, but the rustic bookcase festooned with white fairy lights. Note to self: get more fairy lights. I had every intention of writing a “real” blog post (what is a real blog post, anyway?) but then after an extremely good chat that ended with online ornament shopping and discussion of the big epic novels/miniseries of the 1970s, aka high drama, it hit me that we are on Thanksgiving Eve, which means it’s basically a holiay, and I do need to set up my Christmas planner, because the day after Thanksgiving, is Black Friday, and it’s go, go, GO into Holiday Mode.

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

We do have our tree to put up. This year, beyond the basic colored balls, we have a gorgeous Tudor rose ornament from Mary, and that means it is high time to have some more personalized ornaments on the tree. Cats, writing instruments, that sort of stuff. Can’t go into that unprepared and still face myself in the morning. Which will be Thanksgiving morning.

This year, we are going with a theme of “we tired,” and will be ordering in or getting takeout like the city dwellers we are. Pajamas all day if possible, relaxing, getting current on streaming backlog, reading, and hitting the ground running for full on holiday mode. I will be armed with lists, more lists, and lists of lists. No, I am not kidding on that one. I can take organization to meticulous levels when I have a mind to, and when I am all hopped up on visions of sugarplums and all that other good stuff, well, think of the logical outcome. All of that means that putting thought into a “real” post is not on my agenda.

One of the things I am list-ing is a somewhat loose TBR for the coming year, though I may not wait that long to get started. It all depends on what the library has in store. When I fell down the rabbit hole of V. C. Andrews analysis videos, I glommed hard on to the high drama factor, and what captures high drama than those big 70s epics I mentioned earlier? I was a bit young for those the first time around, but getting a taste for them now, so sprinkling them through the coming year might be something to add to my plans for 2022. Reading high drama fuels writing high drama and I do love my high drama. I know, big surprise on that one.

Anyway, the lure of a pillow fort and hand-knit afghan is calling, with a Kindle full of books, and a paperback Christmas historical romance anthology right there on the nightstand. I have a cuddly kitty and a plentiful tea supply. Also, my brain wants, very very strongly, to go back into fiction mode, and that pillow fort would put me verrrry near a lot of my pens. If you’ve been here longer than five minutes, you know all about me and pens. (Did I mention that I have started to see holiday pen gift sets popping up in stores? Have to say PaperMate is stepping it up this year.

What’s on tap for your holiday?)

Plot Bunnies in the Attic

First of all, Storm is on heat lockdown (we do plan on getting her spayed) and thus was not allowed to use the computer unsupervised. She kept attempting to log onto Cat Tinder, and we could not have that. Seriously. I found her profile picture.

single black, white, and orange female….

Beyond that, things are going pretty well over here. I was a bit under the weather over the weekend, but feeling much better now, and excited over the holiday season proper being right around the corner. For those of us who are stationery aficionados, that means new planner season is coming. For those of us who write fiction, it’s time to look ahead at the coming writing year. For those of us who are both, that means time to work on a writing planner.

One of those sections is creating a “stuck list,” aka books, movies, TV, other media that usually gets my idea hamster on the wheel and running like they think they are Wilma Rudolph or Usain Bolt.

For me, the book section includes romance and non-romance books. One of the non-romances, that I come back to time and again, is Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews. As a romance writer, that does give me a moment of pause. Trigger warning: incest, child abuse.

43448. sx318 sy475
Dollenganger #1

Though there is an intimate relationship between teen protagonists Cathy and Chris, who are full siblings, under extremely extenuating circumstances, this isn’t a romance. It’s a tragedy. I’ve classified it as horror, of the psychological sort, and it is that, but as I wandered down my most recent FITA rabbit hole (it happens every once in a while) I found myself thinking, as I usually do when I revisit good ol’ Foxworth Hall (sarcasm mode on for that house name) “how would this work as a historical romance?”

Not, I should note, that I would ever want to have a hero and heroine who are full, half, step, foster, etc siblings. Not my thing. The big old house with centuries of heritage behind it, though? Oh yes. The family secrets? Yep. The family dysfunction? Well, of course. The creepy-deepy atmosphere? Um, have you met me? You know this is all Anna-nip when it comes to inspiration. I do have to admit that I had some degree of shock when I saw the Lifetime TV movie adaptation of the first book (there are five in all, number five being a prequel; when I reread, I read FITA, then the prequel, then FITA again, as the prequel is the origin story of the villainess) and very seldom pay any attention to the books in between. That’s just me, though.

My other listening obsession is podcasts on romance writing/reading, of which there are delightfully a lot. Though I don’t recall the specific episode where I heard author Sarah MacLean say that she also always thinks “how would this work as a historical romance?” my brain did catch on that. Fellow author Corinna Lawson once told me, after I’d given one of my very first workshops on what is now Play in Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys, that I tend to “take fantasy inspiration and file off all the fantasy.” She’s not wrong, as I first got my start writing Star Trek: The Next Generation fanfic that read like historical romance with blinky things. I think the same thing might well apply to horror.

I did mention above that I have always classed FITA into horror, and with the discovery of some analyses of the Andrews books (only the actual V. C Andrews, thanks. Not the ghostwriter.) that it also fits into gothic drama, and since most of her stories take place in the south, Southern Gothic elements abound. I love that stuff. I gobble the classic gothic romances of the late sixties/early seventies when I can find them, and some authors who are on my top tier historical romance list, like Valerie Sherwood and Aola Vandergriff, also wrote in this gothic genre. Hmmmm. Hmmm. Hmmmmm.

Romance, though, particularly historical (the tone of my contemporaries with Melva Michaelian are decidedly different and equally natural) with HEAs and dating outside of the family line. Right now, I am at the phase of noting things on my stuck list and leaving them to marinate, to ponder in days to come. Maybe this will come in handy when I revise Orphans in the Storm, which may be on tap for 2022. Maybe not, but it’s always fun to examine something that gets the idea hamster on the move, and that’s a worthwhile end in its own right.

What surprising items might you put on your stuck list?

Typing With Wet Paws: The Gravitational Pull of Afghans Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! It’s a rainy day here in Albany, the leaves are falling in tons of colors, Papa is currently taking a nap under a hand knitted (by Aunt Linda) afghan, and Mama Anna is having a good writing week. She and Papa had delivery for lunch, which I did not touch because I am a kitty and kitties eat kitty food, not people food. That’s an important distinction, and Mama D taught me that early on when I was still a baby kitten.

Anyway, this is the kind of autumn day Mama Anna loves best. Later in the day, she and Aunt Linda will go hunting for groceries, including cat food, but after I am done with this post, she needs the keyboard so that she can write.

The current working setup; photo by Mama Anna

Last night, she had her weekly meeting online with a local writer friend, which is one day after her weekly talk with Aunt Mary, so she does tend to get charged during the latter half of the week, because talking. She is also drinking a lot of tea. These are good signs. On Wednesday, she walked all around the lake in the park when she went to take out the trash. I did not authorize that trip, and complained to Aunt Linda until Mama Anna got back. Oh, and I ran to the computer when I saw Mama Anna was talking to Aunt Mary. They both liked that a lot. I do aim to please.

Right now, the gravitational pull of the pillows, afghan, real paper book and freshly brewed cinnamon tea is very strong. Add in me and Papa also on the bed, not to mention Mama Anna’s catchall notebook and pens, so she can even do some writing there. This sounds like good napping time for me.

photo by Mama Anna

Papa wanted to get a good picture of me in Mama Anna’s desk chair, facing the computer, but I was at such a position he couldn’t get a good angle. He will, later, though, so a greatest hits picture for now. Mama Anna says he and I need a photoshoot, so she can have a reserve of pictures. That’s not a bad idea. I am rather gorgeous.

Speaking of gorgeous, there are a lot of gorgeous covers in the books Mama Anna has been reading this year. She is currently back on track with 77 books read out of 90, and she is reading a few at the same time, pretty much. Getting back into it. This kind of day is conducive to reading, so again, strong draw towards the reading nest.

Yesterday was a really good writing day, even working on Her Last First Kiss, and it didn’t feel forced. That is a very good sign. I have to believe my emotional suport goes a long way toward that, as well as Mama Anna increasing the amount of blabbering to other people that she has been doing. Snuggling with me and a book couldn’t hurt, though.

Headbonks!

Storm

NaNot, Mislaid Plan(ners) and Other Stories

Once again, I am not doing National Novel Writing Month, though I am peeking through the cracks in the fence. Maybe next year? Maybe so. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know the last couple years have been quite the trip. Several of them, as a matter of fact, so that staying home now is actually kind of exciting, because I have a home to stay in, which I figured would have some sort of effect on my productivity.

If we are talking about blogging, I am doing okay. If we are talking about journaling, I am absolutely crushing it. We’ll talk more about that later. If we’re talking about writing romance fiction, that’s where it gets a little murkerier, and yes, I did put that distancing phrase in there on purpose. Melva and I completed one contemporary romance novel, which we now need to do some surgery upon before we can give it another shot with our current publisher. That’s not a bad thing. We are currently working on another one, and starting a new contemporary series after that. We are working our way to a new sort of schedule as both of us have had changes in our day to day routines, but we are getting into the swing of it, and it’s good.

only the tip of my big bag of books iceberg

For historical romance, that’s where I feel the most guilty, meaning that I’m not where I thought I was going to be at this point. I mean, it’s in sight, and I am getting my way back there. I am now in a two person critique group with a local writer friend, who is newer to the game. We write different subgenres, but both under the romance or romantic elements umbrella. I do read the genre that she writes in, though she is new to historical romance, and I am very interested to see what I can learn about historical romance from seeing it through fresh eyes. So it’s steps in the right direction. Historical romance is also a very common topic on my weekly three hour chats with my friend, Mary, who gifted me a huge bag of classic historicals on her recent visit. I also owe a letter to another writer friend, which is all moving in the direction of getting back to talking about my work, which, for me, is definitely a thing. #extrovertlife

The writing planner I had set up for the last six months of this year is sitting in its cover, glaring at me. Not to say that the planner isn’t working. What it means is that that method is not working for me, and I need to find the one that does. Which means trial and error and blabbering about it here, because, metaphorically, I have a microphone and you all have to listen to everything I say. (The Wedding Singer is a work of genius; fight me.) In short, all part of the process. As we near the end of the year, the planner possibilities are endless, and I will find the right one at the right time. For now, it’s going to be more a matter of blundering into the forest with oven mitts on my hands, and recording what actually worked for me. That tends to be how I work. Stumble my way halfway in, survey, and make a plan. I am bound and determined that A Heart Most Errant is not going to have a birthday of sitting in my documents file, edits unaddressed. Nope, nope, nope. February is not that far away, which means I need to get on it.

How does yoeur week look?

Typing With Wet Paws: Sorry For The MIA Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! It’s October now, which means a lot of exciting things are happening. First of all, today starts our official second year in this apartment, something that makes us all extremely happy. I am not as pleased with the closed windows, because I got a surprise when I tried to jump into my window in Aunt Linda’s room. She says she is getting me a ledge. We will see. I do have an adoptiversary coming up, so that’s another good thing, and a good reason for her to come through with the ledge.

Aunt Anna’s birthday is also in October, one week before Halloween, so really, it’s a whole month of fun stuff. The one up side of the windows closing is that the property manager turned the furnace on yesterday, so now we can have heat. Also, Aunt Linda is going on vacation later in this month, so there will be some shenanigans. Of what sort, I do not know, but it will be fun whatever it is.

photo by Anna Carrasco Bowling

As you can see, I am quite comfy, and also hard at work at being Aunt Anna’s mews. With the stuff ahead of her, she’s going to need me. Yesterday, she had two video chats with different writer friends, and then the day before that, her weekly three hours with Aunt Mary. Aunt Anna is a social creature, so this kind of thing helps her a lot. She also is working on some exercises in making sure she pays attention to what helps her write things and what doesn’t. I of course, am close by because really, isn’t that the most important thing?

desk at golden hour
Anna Carrasco Bowling

That picture above is what Aunt Anna’s current desk setup looks like. She’s very happy with it, though she will be happier when her secretary desk comes home, which will probably be sometime during Aunt Linda’s vacation. That is probably when she will dig her very very favorite historical romance novels out of storage. Those go in the bookcase her father made for her when she was a baby baby. She might repaint them, though, because yellow is not her thing. Don’t blame her. It doesn’t complement my fur at all, so I very much support this idea.

Speaking of books, let’s check in with Aunt Anna’s Goodreads Challenge. As of this writing, she is as 81% of the way to her goal of 90 books in 2021, with 73 books under her belt. That is six books ahead of schedule, so feel free to give her a paw bop when she complains about not being able to read anything, because that is obviously not true. Even if it seems that way at the time.

I would not be surprised if the reading thing gets even stronger this month, because A) it’s October, B ) that sometimes means she gets books for her birthday, and C) she’s already listening to music again and thanks to Uncle Rheuben, she is even watching TV. Okay, streaming, but still. He made her watch Only Murders in the Building. It hits a lot of tropes that Aunt Anna loves, has a great cast (she was sold on Steve Martin and Martin Short, and the prewar apartments sold her without knowing anything else.

Hm, I think that’s about it for right now, but I will be sure to pop back in if I think of anything else, get new toys, or anything else interesting. Feel free to drop your recommendations for sourcing a good red dot in the comments.

Headbonks!

Storm

Typing With Wet Paws: Freestyle Edition

Tails up ,Storm Troopers. I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Aunt Anna is kind of busy right now, so I’m going to freestyle it this week.

Me, on a bag in a box

First of all, take a look at my sweet summer digs. I have my footlocker box, with a paper bag inside it. That’s pretty luxe from cat standards. I get a nice breeze from the bos fan, I can see both Aunt Anna and Uncle Rheuben from there, and of course I can see my dishes from here, too, in case anything is happening there.

Next thing is that we had an invader on Wednesday. Okay, Uncle Rheuben said the invader was Mr. Kurt, who is the proprety manager and was only here to fix the bathroom. The tub had stopped and wasn’t draining at all (don’t worry, I have zero interest in investigating that kind of thing) and the toilet wouldn’t quite flushing. Ever. I didn’t investigate that either. Anyway, Aunt Anna was out, writing at Panera, when Mr. Kurt came by to fix things. I don’t know exactly what all Mr. Kurt did, but the whole bathroom works now. I was under the big bed. Never can be too sure about this kind of thing.

Aunt Anna is hoping to get a bunch of reading done this weekend, because she is killing it when it comes to the Goodreads Reading Challenge. Right now, She’s still kind of wrangling her library haul, and the video is still planned, but it’s been a week. Aunt Linda had her car in the shop twice, once for the windshield wipers, and then today for the windshield.

Last night, we had a false alarm. Uncle Rheuben was working last night, and I thought I heard him coming home, so I went to the door, all excited. Unfortunately, I was wrong. It was our neighbors. They only live here on some weekends. I think they are in a different city most of the time. They have dogs, but I have never met them, even though I asked. I have heard them, though. They bark a lot. I guess they didn’t get the memo that we live here now. I mean, the people probably know, but never can tell with the dogs. There is a dog downstairs next door, too. Her name is Ada. She was a puppy when we first moved in, so she is almost grown up now. She’s still wiggly, though. I watch her (and other dogs) from the window sometimes. There are a lot of these dogs in this neighbornood.

That’s probably about it for this week. We’re all doing well here. Aunt Anna is writing. I help her read when I flop down next to her and she can use her other hand to rub my stomach. Speaking of which, I think I’m going to go see if she’s amenable to that option, because I for sure am.

Headbonks!

Storm

Typing With Wet Paws: Proper Elevation Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. The big news this week is that Aunt Anna borrowed Aunt Linda’s office chair ,which Aunt Linda uses as a regular chair (no desk) and guess what – no back pain No need for an Amazon box on top of the kitchen table, either, if she wheels the chair out there when Aunt Linda isn’t home. This is a very good portent for the writing that is on her schedule, because there is a lot. All it will take is either getting Aunt Anna’s regular office chair out of the storage unit, or buying a new one. Either way is good, because A) I get to sit in it when she isn’t, B) if Aunt Anna doesn’t need the Amazon box she uses for a laptop riser, then I get it. Also if she goes with a new chair, then it will come in a box, and I can have that one. If she gets the existing one out of storage, then I get to smell Big Sister Skye on it, and learn some secrets from/about her. Anyway, it’s all good, however it turns out.

Fourth of July was pretty quiet around here. Figuratively, not literally. We can hear all the fireworks here, but can’t see them. I was a little confused, but the humans were all chill about it, so I was, too. I wasn’t aound fireworks last years, and I don’t remember the year before that, because I was too young. I guess it makes me fireworks-neutral, which is a good thing for a pet to be. We’ll find out again nest year.

best seat in the house

There was one memorable effect from the holiday, though. It scrambled Aunt Anna and Aunt Melva’s brains, so they spaced on their meeting on Monday, even though Aunt Anna had already written her whole scene -in longhand. SHe’ll have to transcfribe that over the weekend and then send it Aunt Melva’s way, so Aunt Melva can write the next scene. They might move their meeting day, not move it, or keep the original meeting and add a second one. Aunt Anna is also having another video chat with Aunt Mary, because that was super fun and motivating, She may start doing that more with other friends, as well, because extroverts and social distancing are not the best mix.

Good thing there is Aunt Linda. On Monday, Aunt Linda had the day off, and she and Aunt Anna made a huge library haul. She made a big historical romance haul, and will make an Anna Log video all about that. She will talk about here experience with the Historical Romance Readathon over on Buried Under Romance this weekend, so keep eyes peeled for that. Right now, her Goodreads Reading Challenge looks like this.

This puts Aunt Anna firmly at the 2/3rds mark, with 60 books read out of her goal of 90 which means she is at 33% of the way there. The retShe will talk more about that later. The return of the physical library has been a very good thing on Aunt Anna’s reading front. The most imporatan thing is not only that Aunt Anna super loves reading paper bools again, but that it means she can now read in bed with just the bedside lamp and no tablet screen, and she is totally free to cuddle me while she reads. That’s always a big plus.

Okay, that looks about it for my list of the week things, except for some planner stuff, but that is for Anna Log, too. Since Aunt Anna looks to be unpillbugging, that will be soon. k

Headbonks!

Typing With Wet Paws: Heatwoven Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. It’s a cool and sometimes rainy day over here in New York State, which means the heat wave has broken, and Aunt Anna will be re-entering functional adult life. She’s been taking it super-easy for most of the week, staying cool and hydrated. Thankfully, I have been on the juob the entire time. Often on her, because what’s better for heat wave sluggishness than a beautiful calico girl sitting on one’s torso?

Okay, most of the time I was near her rather than actually on her, but being on our humans is one of the ways we kitties show our love, and I love Aunt Anna a LOT. Like really a lot. She’s my favorite. Uncle Rheuben and Aunt Linda are pretty good, too, but yeah. Anyway, this was not the most productive of weeks. and that is okay. Even with all the hotness and the sweating and the hydrating and stuff, she did actually get some stuff done. Here are a few of them:

Reading

Heat waves are pretty good for reading, especially when Aunt Anna can stick in some earbuds, flop in front of a fan, and have a professional voiceover person read her a story. If pressed, she is even okay on the robo-voice that comes with her Kindle’s text to speech function. Even that goes a long way. A friend, Miss Lisa, from Buried Under Romance, told Aunt Anna there is a way she can change the robo-voice if she wants to, to maybe get a male voice when she wants it, or even a British voice, male or female, but she hasn’t looked into that lately. Standard robo-voice will work quite well.

She’s even gone to the library (away from me for an Entire Hour, ahem) to get some paper books for the Historical Romance Readathon. She did pretty well on that front, and will talk more about that on Buried Under Romance. Aunt Anna likes reading challenges like this because not only is it community related, but it’s also a way to try some bokos she might not have noticed on her own.

The fact that it comes during a heat wave is a very convenient coincidence. It also does wonders for her Goodreads Reading Challenge. As of this writing, she has read 58 out of 90 books, which puts her at 64% of the way to her goal. Not bad, if I do say so myself. Keep going, Aunt Anna.

Photo by Cristian Rojas on Pexels.com

Writing

Even though Aunt Anna is only unoficcially camping this year, July is still for getting back on the historical romance hrse while discovery drafting her third book with Aunt Melva, Queen of Hearts. If that sounds like a lot of stuff to writie, that is exactly what Aunt Anna likes best. Keep her on the page, and she is a happy camper, even if she did not sign up for CampNaNo this year. She has a notebook all set up for un-bungling the second half of Her Last First Kiss, and, now that the heat has broken, she has the brainpower to complete her edits on A Heart Most Errant and move forward in that project. Soon, there willl be formatting and cover art and all that good stuff. She’ll figure out what metric she wants to use to track progress. I am betting there will be a paper notebook where she keeps track of all that. I plan to sit on it.

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Planning

This is a big week for planner enthusiasts like Aunt Anna, becasue July is the time of year when eighteen month cladendars start. When I say planners, this also includes new notebooks for special reasons, like working on her focus projects for the next few months. Writing about historical romance, Aunt Anna has found, is an essential part of writing historical romance, so she has a notebook set up for that, tracking what she likes and doesn’t like, the history of the genre, and what its future might be. Those are things she will share on Anna Log and Buried Under Romance. There is a lot going on on that front. Trust me on that. I have laid on a lot of these books, so I can vouce for them.

I think that’s about it for this week. Overall, life is pretty good, if uncomfortable for the last several days. Thankfully, we have cooler weather for the next few days, so Aunt Anna is feeling a lot more Aunt Anna-y. How is your week?

Headbonks!

Storm