writing

Good Question, YA Novel

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Not sure what it was about yesterday, but I ticked three, count them three books off my Goodreads challenge backlog. Okay, two of them, I had started earlier, and one of them was a forty minute audiobook prequel to a new series, but it still counts. Two of the books were historical romance, one paranormal, one not, and the other one was a YA romance, the latest installment in my favorite YA Christmas romance series. I will admit that is a pretty much niche market, but stay with me here, I’m going somewhere.

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I will never not love these books

Disclaimer: I highly, highly, highly recommend the Dash and Lily series, but do not start with Mind the Gap. Get in on the ground floor, with Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares. There’s a smart, grumpy YA hero, Dash, who is full of the bah humbug, and Lily, our spunky YA heroine, lives for Christmas and dogs and family ties. There’s a red Moleskine notebook, a clandestine correspondence, an underground Jewish rave, a madcap tour of NYC, all the holiday feels, and every bookworm’s fantasy of being locked in a bookstore overnight. Oh, and true love. Also, the cover looks like this:

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Start here. Seriously, start here.

When I first met Dash and Lily, their first book was a standalone, and I didn’t think it needed any more installments. (I stan standalones, but that’s another post) but Twelve Days of Dash and Lily won me over, when Christmas-loving Lily loses the joy of the season, and it’s up to Dash to bring back her sparkle.

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I will never doubt these authors again

Okay, so the question. First, a little backstory. I am not going to retell any of the books, because read them, read them, read them, read them, read them. I will, however, say that if there is one city that rivals a perfect location for Christmas magic than NYC, it’s London. Congratulations to Ms. Cohn and Mr. Levithan for knowing the one thing that would entice me. (The only city that could top that would be Jerusalem, but this isn’t that kind of book.) Dash is at the wrong university, Lily is finding that maybe she doesn’t want her gap year to close, and they aren’t kids anymore, but young adults (new adults?) so questions of The Future are now coming into play, and mommy and daddy can’t help them now.

There are older relatives, of course, and one of them actually does ask one really good question of both Dash and Lily, which applies to them both as individuals finding their own ways, and as a couple. What is the question? It’s an easy and profound one:

Don’t think about it, the relative urges Dash and Lily. Just answer. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say that Lily comes up right away with “dogs,” and for Dash, it’s “books.” For Anna (no, there is no Anna in this book. Okay, there is one, but she’s been super dead for a super long time, and she is only mentioned once. It’s me. I am the Anna. I will be surprised if you did not get that already.) there was similarly no hesitation. Romance novels. I love romance novels. I have ever since I stole my very first historical romance novel from my mother’s nightstand when I was a very precocious eleven. I knew then and there that I had found what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, and usually, I follow that with “so far, so good,” but, eh, 2020.

To recap for the new followers (hi, and thanks for following. We are thrilled to have you. “We” is me and Storm kitty. Plus my imaginary friends, um, I mean characters.) 2020 was full of anxiety, depression, homelessness, and assorted other non-delights. I told Real Life Romance Hero that I am staying up on New Year’s Eve because I want to watch 2020 die.

Things are better now. We have a gorgeous, cozy apartment that gives me historical romance cred because it started out life as part of a carriage house in the nineteenth century. It has the pink fifties bathroom of my dreams, updated exactly enough to straddle retro and timeless modern classiness. I have an awesome calico kitty who is my mews and purr-sonal asisstant, I am married to the love of my life, and our best friend is our housemate. All of this provides a really good foundation to transition out of survival mode and into who I want to be now.

Which brings us to Dash and Lily’s question. What do I love? Romance novels. I love the happily ever afters, I love the history (even my co-written contemporaries have historical touches here and there.) I love the character journeys, and the whole complicated dance from strangers to you and no other-ness. :happy sigh: I love reading these books and I love writing these books and I love talking about these books. I love the authors and the covers and the readers and the history of romance fiction and the swag and the community and…yeah. If I ever got locked in a bookstore overnight, I would like it to be The Ripped Bodice, the first big time all-romance bookstore because trust me, I would not mind one iota. Second choice is a good old fashioned UBS (used book store) that is romance friendly, with a substantial stock of pre-1996 titles.

Even though I have read voraciously in above niche, I still haven’t read exhaustively, so there are still many adventures ahead. As well, of course, as all of the fabulous new books coming out literally every month, people. Every. Month. Plus my own stories, historical and contemporary and who knows what else? One thing I can tell you, though: they’ll be romance.

Hi. I’m Anna. I write romance novels and about romance novels. I also love stationery. Come to my place, that’s what you get. Welcome. Now sit right next to me and tell me all your favorites.

Typing With Wet Paws: Mid-December Edition

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Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. This is also getting ever closer to Christmas, which is probably going to be pretty exciting for me, because it’s my first proper Christmas with these guys, and everybody’s first in this apartment. The aunts went to the storage unit earlier in the week, and had second thoughts about doing the archaeology needed to get to the existing Christmas tree, since it’s in a box near the back. In other words, behind heavy stuff. Instead, they plan to buy a new one probably this weekend. Maybe a tabletop version, even though Aunt Anna has a lot of lights at the ready.

What she did pick up at the unit, though, was the rest of her pen collection (well, the most used ones, anyway) and I helped her sort through them and get them put away.

one of the many jobs of a purr-sonal assistant

There is a high possibility that I will give Aunt Anna a pen for Christmas. Last year, I gave her a lightbulb, but that’s only because we were visiting Aunt Linda’s family, and we were shut in the guest bedroom and that was the best thing I could find. Aunt Anna loved it, though, so I guess I did good anyway. There is also a possibility that I know something about where her morning pags notebook and brand new kraft paper notebook are (she is pretty sure they are together) and could surprise her when Christmas comes.

Pile of Assorted Novel Books
thanks for the picture, Pexels

Aunt Anna had a great chat with Miss Lisa over at Buried Under Romance, and they are super excited about lots of fun stuff they have planned for 2021. For now, there is the most current Saturday Discussion, and Miss Lisa’s review of the newest Christmas romance from Jenna Jaxon. Click those links if you want to take a look.

As for the whole Goodreads challenge thing. Sorry, Aunt Anna, we have to go there. It’s time. As of right now, Aunt Anna has read 77 out of ninety books, putting her seven books behind schedule if she wants to make it to her goal by the end of the year. That means she has thirteen books to go, with twenty-one days to go. Doable. There may be some fussing, because the big reader energy is still not back yet, but she has a few ideas.

  1. Move the goal post. As in get in there and change the number to something more manageable, like 80 (or even 77, where she currently is) and be done with it. There are bigger fish to fry, after all. Mmm, fiiiiiiiish.
  2. Push through, everything else be, um, danged. Get to that arbitrary number no matter the cost because there is a reputation to uphold.
  3. Audiobooks. All the time. Even when writing and stuff like that.
  4. Novellas. All the novellas. Don’t care if she wants to read them or not, they’re short.
  5. Say the fluff with it and not even try. Losing isn’t the end of the world. It’s 2020. There are naps to take.

Yeah, she’s not going to do that last one. It’s going to be one of the others. Which one would you pick if this were you in this situation? Drop your answer in the comments. I will say that she is getting more reading time since she still has to share the computer with Uncle Rheuben and that means she doesn’t get a lot of or sometimes any Sim time, so reading is more accessible. We’ll see what happens. She’s not thrilled with being this far behind after being that far ahead as she once was, but hey, it’s 2020. These things happen.

Uncle Rheuben’s desk

Before you ask, that is not a flatlay. That is just how his desk usually looks. He’s a tidy dude. There is usually a laptop there, but since it isn’t working, it’s in its box for the time being. Hopefully a short time, because computer sharing makes Aunt Anna a little loopy, if you catch my drift.

That did not, however, keep her from having a great video chat with Aunt Melva. They have set a goal to be done with the first draft of Drama King by Christmas, which is super exciting. After that, there is going to be a poopload of editing but Aunt Anna likes that part, so it’s all good.

That’s probably about it for right now. Aunt Anna wants to get to the big business at hand for her Capitol Region RWA chapter, because it’s member appreciation time, and she gets the super fun job of shaking virtual pompoms in everybody’s direction, reading off all the great things they’ve done in this sucktastick year. She normally does that in person and gets to hand out treats and presents. That’s going to be a little different when done virtually, but I bet it will still be fun, especially with a very high chance of a calico photobomb.

Headbonks!

Computer Repair Chicken (and other stories)

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No post on this past Friday, because A) I had a winter bug, and B ) Storm could not tear herself away from her duties as nurse on duty to make a blog entry. Never fear, she will be back this week. Her nursing did its trick, and I am back at the keyboard, which I am still sharing with Real Life Romance Hero until somebody gets a laptop repaired. Honestly between the two of us (three, if you count Housemate, who also has a laptop in need of repair) we are apparently playing some sort of computer repair chicken. No clear leader discernable at this time, except maybe Storm. Cute cats always win.

I don’t have a clear topic for this post, which is not really a surprise. It’s one of those posting to post posts (try saying t hat three times fast) but I am rather proud of the fact that Housemate and I, after one look at the storage unit, agreed to not even attempt to reach the box with the Christmas tree, as it is, by process of elimination, behind Other Boxes Full of Heavy Stuff, and instead head over to Big Box Store on payday and get a new one. The ornaments, however, are close to the door, which will be quite handy next week, when se need them. Much more accessible were my hundred count box of Crayola Super Tips, so I nabbed those. I also nabbed a new spiral bound notebook while on the morning’s grocery run, and I plan to have the two make sweet, sweet music, figuratively speaking, in the very near future (aka making swatches) with or without background noise of streaming TV, audiobook, podcast, etc. Outside chance of Christmas music playlist. That part is all fuzzy, but that’s okay.

Person Holding White Ceramci Be Happy Painted Mug
Person Holding White Ceramci Be Happy Painted Mug · Free Stock Photo (pexels.com)

Swatching inks, both artistic and regular pen (ballpoint, gel pen, etc) is part of my plan. How many of us writer types have a hidden cache of Beautiful Notebooks That Are Too Good To Use, and thus would be ruined for all eternity by the addition of any less than perfect writing. Which, of course, is any writing created by well, any writer, and thus we have the uhhhh, thing. Yeah. This is why an idea snaked its way into my brain, between “dairy products” and “household cleaners.” Okay, it was not on the list, but it was pretty. Dusty pinky=lavender color, poly cover, and those magical words, “heavyweight paper.” For. A. Dollar.

Okay. Awesome notebook with paper I want to pet, but without the “this thing cost a lot, better not ruin it” pressure. Hmmmm. Plan is to swatch pretty pens and markers and highlighters and stuff, up to, and probably past the point, where my brain says “pens, paper, we must be telling stories, right?” It’s fallen for that before. No guarantees, but what the heck, could turn out well.

Better Writing Through Computer Games?

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Wednesday’s post is here on Thursday this week, because A) I came down with a rotten winter bug, last week’s “cold” actually the first stage of ick, and B ) Real Life Romance Hero’s laptop, less than a year old, abruptly stopped working, so we have had to share the single desktop. Not a lot of writing done this week, which is understandable because all power to shield, and better living through pharmaceuticals. One of the first things I want to do when I am climbing out of this stuff, is play Sims. Right now, that means Sims 4, and by playing, I mean largely refining my custom content to a fare-thee-well.

How does that relate to writing? Glad you asked (because somebody is probably asking. If not, you get my input anyway.) There’s no “right” way to play a life simulation game, and the methods of playing such are infinite, the same as telling a story, which is basically what I like to do with my games. It’s all storytelling. There are times when I blithely ignore what the game wants, er, suggests I do, and wander off the path to do my own thing, focusing on the aesthetics and letting my story brain take the wheel.

Everybody starts with the same basic stuff: the base game. It looks like this:

The Sims 4
how it all started…

Now here’s one of my recent screenshots:

what I’m doing now

What’s the difference? Well, a boatload of custom content, for one. I think the only things in this picture that aren’t custom are the archway, the window, and the washing machine that’s almost in frame. Jacqueline, a Sim I have made in Sims 2, 3, and 4 versions, (yes, she is kind of probably going to show up as a heroine in a future novel, but she will have a different name, and will likely be historical) has custom skin, eyes, hair, makeup, eyebrows, and I spent longer than I would care to admit tweaking her facial features with not only the in-game options but custom presets. This picture is her taking a selfie, which she can do with her smartphone, a game feature, further tweaked by an in-game filter option, and ReShade, which adds post-processing to create some serious mood. Or vintage mood, or bright, cartoony mood, or, or, or, or…yeah.

Right now, my current neighborhood is all British New Build houses made by other players, which I download and decorate down to the tiniest bits of clutter, to best reflect the residents. It’s all character and worldbuilding, and I love it. Next float in this parade is to take one of my screenshots and edit it further in a photo editing program, maybe add some design elements and/or text. Now that I have a ne printer, this might turn into stickers that I can put into my planners and notebooks, etc. There aren’t a lot of words involved in creating Sims and their environments, but here’s one thing that does happen when I spend a good chunk of time playing around with this: I want to write more fiction.

I didn’t expect it to be like that, but maybe it’s not such a surprising thing. As above, it’s character building and worldbuilding. Sims have their own wants, which I can fulfill or not, and deal with the consequences. I can override all of that and make whatever I want happen, within reason. Sometimes without it; Sims actually have things called “whims” that affect their moods, which affects how likely they are to do what the player wants them to do. This isn’t entirely unlike how it goes with writing. There’s also the times when things will just…stop, due to a glitch. Possibly a bad piece of custom content that doesn’t belong in this version of the game, or got shafted due to incompatibility with a patch, or I forgot to tdownload a mesh, or any one of a few dozen things. Maybe my aesthetic has changed, and so the custom content or even dfaults that I ha been playing with for years aren’t going to work anymore.

That means diving deep into my files and ripping out what doesn’t fit with my current methods/desires and replacing it with stuff that does. Trying new things, rising perhaps to a few challenges, or knocking it down and starting from scratch, though I am setting myself the goal of sticking with a single save for a certain number of generations, which is not unlike oh, say, finishing a book.

Right now, Melva and I are focusing on finishing Drama King, and I am loving that. Still, I have my notebook for Her Last First Kiss set up and that’s probably going to be next, because I miss historical romance like I would miss my own right arm. The only way to stop missing that is to get back to it, and, like searching for Sims content, this is going to mean reading a lot and poking around and seeing what I love, love, love, now, and if that means changing a few things that I have already done, so that I absolutely cannot wait to get to that keyboard and get to Bern and Ruby’s HEA, breathless, worn out, but still with enough energy to pump my fist in the air because we did it, fates be danged.

Not at all a bad way to wind up one year and start another, the way I see it.

Raiding The Lost Archives

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Low key Monday, my background sounds a crackling hearth ambient sound thingamaboodle, tea in my favorite mug at hand, and a loose list of things to get done in the first half of the week at the ready. So far, so good.

I can’t believe it’s already going to be December tomorrow. We are, as a family, in a much better place, both mentally and physically, than we were last year, and it’s still in the getting used to it phase. The longer away, the farther the road back, some may say. In a lot of ways, that’s true. There are also times when it’s an instant transition like a Star Trek transporter. That happens, without warning, when one makes frequent trips to the storage units when settling into new digs after a long time away.

My keeper historical romance novels are still in the unit somewhere, but we will be retrieving them hopefully soon, as A) I want to read them, and B ) I have some plans for both Buried Under Romance and my return to vlogging, and I am pretty excited about both A and B. Pens and paper and various stationery items are steadily coming home to roost, and falling organically (I love when that happens) into their own patterns and methods of use. When asked if I am a pantser or a plotter, my answer is “puzzler,” which has elements of both. To put in Dr. Who terms, it’s a wibbly wobbly time wimey flying into the mist, picking up breadcrumbs as I go sort of thing. That means frequent ambushes of hibernating ideas, ninja memories, not only launch surprise attacks when I think I am doing things as mundane as unpacking dishes, but they gang with things I didn’t think I had any interest in before, but when they are hanging out with Thing I Already Like or Thing I Forgot I Like (or both) well, that’s a different story.

Playing (highly customized) Sims 4, listening to commentary on The Last of Us
(adult content warning for scary things)

Story, of course, being the key word. There’s the feeling of a glimmer of…something when one least expects it, a “hmm, that’s interesting,” and then, before one knows it, one is cannonballing into a rabbit hole, five tabs open at once, listening to commentary on video games one has never played on in the background, looking for custom content in a game one does play, to capture the same mood and/or aesthetic, but make it romance, and…yeah. A writer’s mind is a messy but beautiful place, and in this season of gratitude, I am very thankful I have one.

It happens in a moment, listening to ambient sounds, playing a game with the sound off because the other sounds are better, and one looks away from a moment, and one’s instinctive “noooooo!” turns to “hm, what if…?” I like those moments. They move quite naturally, when all aligns, from screen to pen and paper, to keyboard and back to screen. To readers, one day. Getting to that place, it would seem is not such a long road back at all.

Typing With Wet Paws: Black, White, and Orange Friday Edition

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Tails up, Storm Troopers! It’s Black, White, and Orange Friday. I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws, Since it is Black, White, and Orange Friday (commonly abbreviated to Black Friday, but really it’s a day to celebrate Calicos in all of our glory) when prices are dropped in many places, that it will be easier to shower the Calicos in your life with gifts. I like gushy food, in case anyone needs a suggestion, and catnip is super fun. I also like blankets a whole lot, which works out well for me, because Aunt Linda makes blankets. How cool is that?

What is also cool is Aunt Anna rebooting her Patreon. She has learned a couple of things about Patreon, some of those being:

  1. Actually making content.
  2. Telling people about that content.

Umm, that’s pretty much it, except for the whole finding one’s niche and playing to that. So, I will do some of it for her. Here is her Patreon, and here are a couple of posts that are available for everyone, no tiers requires:

How Not To Start a Patreon

Historical Romance Setting Wishlist

If you like Aunt Anna’s posts here, want to see what books she recommends, make her find books for you (yep, she does that) or participate in polls that will help shape romance stories yet to come, drop on by and consider lending your support. Will said support get you exclusive picture of me? Chance are high, that is all I am saying.

post-Thanksgiving dinner nap

In case you are wondering how our Thanksgiving went, it was pretty fun. Aunt Anna played Sims a lot, Aunt Linda knitted, and Uncle Rheuben made the best grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch. Dinner was frozen lasagna, for reasons I am not allowed to go into, but the humans said it’s the company that counts, and they still count this as a successful Thanksgiving. They will have turkey and some pies later.

This Sim got struck by lightning. His eyes were like that for a long time.

The decorating has begun around here, but the first bit is not technically a holiday decoration, because Aunt Anna plans to leave the lights on her planner cart forever. They make her happy, so they stay. I have not been chewing on them, but I am a prime suspect in why Uncle Rheuben’s less than a year old laptop that never goes anywhere suddenly doesn’t even turn on anymore. We will be looking into that. I maintain my innocence, but I do have a track record. Eh, I’m cute.

This will be my second Christmas with these guys, but my first proper Christmas, since last year was a tricky year. I am pretty excited about it. I think I probably had a tree and stuff when I was with my first mom, but I don’t remember. I wasn’t allowed in the room where the tree was when we visited Aunt Linda’s brother, but we will be home this year, and I am definitely up to the whole experience. Aunt Anna says that today is the first day she allows herself to play her Spotify Christmas playlist. It’s umm…eclectic, that’s all I am going to say, and it does start with a Thanksgiving song, so maybe she can bump that date back a day for next year. She does want to listen to more music these days, so this should be a big help. Do you have any favorite songs think she might like?

It’s also Time To Start Reading Christmas Romances. I will let her tell you about that later. I think that’s about it for right now. so I will let Aunt Anna have her computer back.

Headbonks!

Maybe In The Moonlight

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I have the house to myself this morning. That’s still somewhat of a novelty, both having a permanent home, and having complete run of it, though I trust I will get used to it in time, My window of time lasts as long as it takes for Housemate to get back from doing her thing at the laundromat. At that time, there will not only be another human in my space, but clean sheets (burgundy plaid, flannel, aka my perfect autumnal option) and clothing (definitely time for an overhaul there, as A) we wore most of our stuff a lot in the last year, B ) style evolution, and C) we live in New York, and we are coming up on winter in not too long at all.

That, though, is probably not why the majority (here is where I comically correct that to “both”) of readers are here, though, who knows, maybe so. Maybe this blog is a little bit about mental health, especially where it intersects with the writing process, since if there were a way to separate the two, I like to think I would have found it by now. Then again, I have times where I can set my cup down, turn around and then have no idea where the thing went, even though our apartment is not that big. I digress.

So. Writing. I am going for that. A good chunk of my relationship with my own writing, these day, can be best summed up as “Oh, there you are,” like opening the packing box labelled something like “kitchenware” and well, hello there, my favorite sweatshirt. Didn’t expect to find you here, specifically, but I sure as heck am slipping you on right away. Not quite warm from the dryer, but not smelling of mothballs, and maybe even a little bit bigger than remembered, but, all around, a much-welcome reunion.

Reading is not quite there yet. I did, however, inhale two Hulu series, both based on YA novels I had read and liked, both which turned out rather well, and one of which was actually a little better than the source. Maybe I should give Poldark or Outlander another look for the historical romance quotient. In the meantime, I have been poking my nose into books by favorite authors, and then poking right back out after a couple of pages. That’s okay. It will come. It always does.

Same with the whole planning thing. With a little more than one month left in the year, my reaction to planning this week, which does include a holiday, has been largely “ehhhh.” I am not firm on what format or size I want my 2021 planner to be, but I do know that I want one main planner, rather than an at home planner and then a mini version to put in my bag. I have started experimenting with making my own planner stickers, example below:

appropriate quote, or what?

Using some of my favorite song lyrics and book quotes (I am beyond excited to be first in line for a hold on the newest Nina LaCour YA novel. No, I have no idea what it’s about; if her name is on the cover, I want it. Period.) feels a heck of a lot more exciting than and searching for stock images that catch the idea in my head feels like a super fun challenge, and is a good step toward getting exactly the planner stuff I want to have, even if I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet.

This ties in pretty well with my view on writing right now, so I’m going to stick with that. There is some confidently traipsing down familiar trails, and there is some splashing about in the shallows, sometimes in the shadows, but also in the moonlight. In the end, where this will lead is putting one foot in front of the other and hitting one key at a time, and then, one day, between sips of tea or bites of seasonally appropriate nibble, between kitty scritches or You Tube videos in the background, I will type “The End” and blink at the page, not entirely knowing how I got there, but glad that I did. After that? Next evolution.

Typing With Wet Paws: That’s the Stuff Edition

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Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. We are closing in on my first proper Thanksgiving with these guys, and, after a rough start to the week (depression sux) Aunt Anna can attest that the autumnal super powers have indeed kicke4d back in for her. Yesterday was a super good writing day – she managed three whole units. One blog entry and two scenes for Drama King. That was in no small part, I am sure, due to the emotional support I gave from my old-lap-desk bed next to her glowy box. I am somewhat impressed that the writing was good even with the day’s domestic adventure.

At least there was no vacuum involved.

A few days ago, the humans noticed that the kitchen sink was not draining. At. All. Uncle Rheuben, who is a superhero, but not a plumber, took a look at it. I cannot vouch for what exactly happened after that, because the humans put me in the master bedroom with Aunt Anna, while Aunt Linda helped Uncle Rheuben take care of All Of The Water. Then they called Mr. Kurt to come and help.

I don’t think Mr. Kurt is exactly a plumber, but he is in charge of apartment fixing, and he said Uncle Rheuben had the sink almost fixed. It was kind of tricky, so Mr. Kurt had to go back to wherever he comes from and get a thing called a plunger, which he left (don’t worry, it now smells right, aka like me) and there were Sounds, but the sink is now fixed. That’s good, because that is where the humans get my water, and I love my water.

New candidate for author photo

So, anyway, back to the writing. Aunt Anna followed her usual thing of writing longhand first and then spiffing it while she transcribes. She sent her scenes to Aunt Melva, and gave feedback on Aunt Melva’s scene, and they will talk more about the book later today. Then they will have more scenes to write, and the end of the book gets ever closer. This gives Aunt Anna some wobbly stomach feels, because she has issues with that kind of thing, but it also means that she can turn her attention to other books, like historical romance and things like that. Plus the next book with Aunt Melva.

Aunt Anna does not have any shortage of stuff to come next. This morning, she got a nifty kind of idea. A couple of days ago, she finished her last notebook that she used for her morning pages. That meant it was time to find another one, and since she was on a no spend week, she had to pick from notebooks she had on hand. She tried one that had awesome paper, but only dot grid instead of lines, and she really needs lines as early in the morning as morning pages will be. Which is when she got an idea.

We will talk about the tiny book later.

The notebook with the road on the cover is the planner Aunt Anna used last year. She loved the cover too much to not use it for something, even though some of the plastic discs did not hold up so well during our vagabonding. Hence the metal discs, which came in a pack of eleven, while the notebook cover only has seven. That’s where the tiny book came in handy. Aunty Anna is making that one from scratch, based on a purchased book, and she will talk about that later.

Okay, morning pages: show me what you’ve go.

What she did now is to put the new discs in the cover, and snapped in some special filler paper, and it felt right. No dividers, since it will all be the same thing, her morning blabber. Going by instinct like this usually works out well for Aunt Anna, and helps her not get in her own way, which she can often do when she overthinks a thing. She will be talking more in the future about the whole planning by instinct thing. So far, it seems to be working.

She also has a couple of paper books in the house, but still needs to set up things on the bed with extra pillows and a bedside lamp, so that bedtime reading can be A Thing once again. She already has the most important part, the extremely beautiful cuddle buddy, aka me. Isn’t that all she really needs?

Headbonks!

Welcome Back, in Duck

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For the past few days, depression has been kicking my butt. Consulting docs, and looking at environmental measures to get things on an even keel. Not quite ready to put up the Christmas tree –it will be our first proper Christmas with Storm, which, for all we know, may be indicative of her typical interaction with holiday decorations.– but I have a twenty foot string of white fairy lights ready to drape around the window in our bedroom. There are the dregs of a jar candle warming on the candle/mug warmer in the kitchen. The external microphone/speaker for my computer has a mood light, which is fun, and I am back to walking around the lake in the park, which is, conveniently, one block away from our home.

We are actually a little closer to the park now than we were in our first Albany apartment, which I like very much, and I have figured out that the best way to get around the issue of glasses fogging to 100% opaque white while wearing glasses and mask at the same time, is to…take off the glasses and stash them in the pocket of my puffy coat. The path around the lake is a complete loop, with water on one side, an up=slanting hill on the other, so wandering to one side is really not possible, and it’s foot traffic only, no vehicles, so no risk of getting flattened, except from the big gander, but that’s an occupational hazard. He hates everybody.

Photo by Brandon Montrone on Pexels.com

While it’s still above freezing, I can take a notebook to the park and ensconce myself on one of the lakeside benches and get some rough stuff written. My first time out this month, I came back with two scenes. While I was doing my thing, one of the mallard females broke away from the bunch, paddled up to me, quacked at me, and paddled on back. I take that to be “welcome back,” in Duck. As for the Canada Geese, I walked through a bunch of them yesterday and they did not kill me, so that must be the goose equivalent (and thank you to the nice person who was feeding/distracting them.) The chance fo meeting friendly dogs is quite high, which only recommends these walks, and if I can time things close enough to sunset, I get to see the holiday lights in tke park as I go.

On the one hand, I knew full well how much I had missed my park walks, but on the other hand, I didn’t know exactly how much. Similarly, I did not know how much me-er I would feel when sticking a whopping three paper books in the bookshelf that now holds my planner supplies. There will be more, but we have not yet gotten to the back part of the storage unit, where they have been resting for nigh on two years now. Feels like forever, and only a minute ago. I actually like that. The books were the first thing I packed when we decided to leave that apartment, and they may well be one of the last things unpacked. They will be very much welcomed.

The fact that Thanksgiving is soon to be upon us is unreal, but there is lots to be thankful for this year. We will probably get takeout (non-turkey) from a local place, sprawl out in our pajamas, and there may or may not be Netflix involved. There will almost certainly be a walk in the park, even if I am the only one who goes, but there is also the family tradition of going around to look at lights after Thanksgiving dinner that we may observe, and there is the whole matter of the Christmas tree. We know where ours is, and all of the ornaments are unbreakable, so Storm can do her worst.

Rambly post today, more to get something up than anything else, before I dive back into Drama King, which is rapidly nearing its HEA at long last.

How’s your week?

Typing With Wet Paws: Friday the Thirteenth Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. A lot of humans have been dreading this day, because apparently Friday the Thirteenth is not a great thing, but it’s been okay for me so far. Aunt Anna and Uncle Rheuben are both home, which is my favorite, because I love them. They are both doing computer things and sometimes talking to each other. On days like this, I like to nap on the bed, or on the cat bed that is between the bed and Aunt Anna’s desk. It is actually Aunt Anna’s old lap desk, which she loved, but it did not weather the vagabond days very well, so she put it on the floor, upside down, so the cushion is up, and I took it. It’s perfectly me-sized, and I can shed both my white and orange hairs on its blackness, so pretty good deal all around.

The blanket was Aunt Anna’s idea. Aunt Linda made it.

I also like the clickety sounds, which mean Aunt Anna is Writing Things. Uncle Rheuben is quieter, as he does a lot of reading and watching and studying. Sometimes, he takes a break to tell me how pretty I am and make sure my water bowl is full, which I like. I am really good at drinking water. I do not, however, like the new cat food Aunt Linda picked out (sorry.) I lick all the gravy off the meat and then leave it and complain about being hungry. Aunt Anna said we will get a different kind, that I have liked before. Aunt Anna is smart.

Not so smart, though, that it took her longer than she would like to admit to figure out this spot was original equipment, not her fault from me bopping her India ink pen.
Also, look at my claw.

Another way she is smart is to figure out new ways that put her in the writing mood. Scheduling writing in terms of “units” rather than words works for her, because the number is smaller, and not intimidating. That may change at some point, but that’s what is getting her making new pages now, so she is going to stick with it. It goes along with another thing she has found, and that is to have something going on a different burner of her brain, so to speak, and then she will switch between the two of them until she kicks into full writing gear.

This can happen either with longhand or on the computer, but longhand is best for composition, which is first draft kind of stuff, often in present tense and with a lot of cross-outs. I like that because I can bop her pen with my paws (she doesn’t like it as much, because I can still do that while she is actually writing and make marks she didn’t intend.) Either way, she likes to have some sound going, either podcasts or Netflix/Hulu, or YouTube. Sometimes, on the YouTube, she picks by the tone of the person’s voice who is talking, and doesn’t care at all about the content/what they are saying.

Believe it or not, this is a writing tool

When she is on the computer, the back burner thing she likes to do most is Sims, either playing, or more recently, designing. She likes a lot of custom content and exercising her inner control freak to micromanage her Sims and their surroundings. This kind of gets her ready to do that with words, too. Playing the actual game, that’s for another time. She says next time she makes our Simselves, she will make a SimStorm. I think that will be the best Sim ever. Woo.

As you can probably tell, Aunt Anna told me we can get back on the link thing next week. She is getting ready for tomorrow’s Capitol Region RWA meeting, which will be online (which means high chance of calico photobomb.) Last year, she wasn’t able to help with the member appreciation celebration because family emergency, but she is looking forward to getting back in that saddle for this holiday season, especially because it’s in a new format they have never done before. Let her get on the other side of that and she will be back in gear with Buried Under Romance and Goodreads and all that stuff.

Oh. One more thing. She is still figuring out the new printer. She can kind of get it to work, but it tells her it isn’t happy when she tells it to print something, so she unplugs it and plugs it back in and then it prints. Eh. Whatever works. I , however, am fine with any mistakes she makes, because I can sit on the papers she doesn’t want to keep. Win-win, I say.

Aunt Anna wants the computer back so she can write more, so Calico Got To Go for now. See you next week!

Headbonks!