writing

Swimming Up From the Bottom of the Gelatin Sea

annabowling Leave a comment

ETA: Um, whoops, this was originally titled “Almost One Year Later.”
The new title, I like better, but makes no sense with the opening paragraph. I am still a little punchy.

No, this is not a reference to how long it has been between blog entries. Only slightly over a year ago, after a prolonged battle with the bedbugs that ate all of our soft furniture, linens, and a good chunk of Housemate’s epidermis (she still has scars) we left what we called the for-now apartment, fully expecting to walk into a new, better one in the span of a week, tops. That, as regular readers of the blog will remember, is not what happened. In fact, it was the opposite.

Right now, in my planners, I have the fifth of September listed as our “homelessversary,” marking a full year between permanent addresses. In between, we have had multiple ER visits, involuntary camping trips, amazing family and friends, one feline jailbreak (and reunion) the total loss of ability and/or desire to read my favorite genres (or anything else) and paying any sort of attention to video entertainment that has two digits before the colon in its duration. My favorite show has been YouTube, and even that has seen me groaning at videos with the interminable duration of four minutes and fifteen seconds. Both attention span and short term memory have taken nosedives, which is both perfectly normal and not something I like.

As of the start of this week, I have learned another thing. Apparently, my body’s response to the potential of strong relief is to go wet noodle for 24 hours, which basically is a sleep so deep I feel like I’m trying to kick my way to the surface in a pool full of well-set gelatin. The relief is due to a phone call that came early Monday, the latest round of phone tag with a prospective landlord we have been wanting to connect with for most of this time. We went to view an apartment, and we love it. The property manager loves us. Now we are filling out paperwork, getting ready to put down a deposit, and The possibility of spending at least part of our homelessversary getting ready to move into our new home is very real.

Sleeping at the bottom of the gelatin pool was yesterday. This morning was up early, and at the keyboard, with a sense of purpose. I’m not saing that normalcy is strictly needed to do any writing (what writers would call themselves normal, after all?) but I can say that this was a very encouraging development, and one where I will be sure to keep you all posted.

So, what does this mean for the writing? For one thing, I hve learned that living the vagabond life with a desktop computer is not easy, but it can be done. We are still looking at obtaining a new laptop, or repairing an older one, so that I can take my show on the road once we are settled, aka writing in coffee shops, or the park, and yes, that does sound a lot like what I have been striving to do while living the vagabond life, but it’s different when it’s by choice, not necessity.

As part of that, I did a quick brain dump in my general writing :salute: notebook, to list the historical romance projects that can most easily be revived. There are rather a lot of them. Ouch. Get to the end, Anna. One thing that hasn’t changed is that I still think in standalones, but I also like living indoors and eating food, and right now, linked books are what readers want, so can I find a way to fit what I do with what they want?

As it turns out, I think so. My historicals that I have brought to at least a first draft fall into a few distinct categories, namely medieval, Restoration, and Georgian. Please note that Restoration does have some English Civil War in it, because, well, they need something from which to be restored, am I right? Georgian for me refers only to the eighteenth century part of that period, since I have determined that I have been born without the Regency writing gene, and will leave that era to those who write it oh so well. My brain does not care on which side of the Atlantic my story people reside, so both Georgian England and the American colonies are fair game.

Not mentioned is the Tudor era, because although it was the first era I truly loved, (and love) I have not yet found my footing in that setting as of yet, but I have every faith that it will happen in time. Pun intended. also, if I add the Tudor era in there, I can conceivably wrangle a family saga, by linking my medieval people and calling those who come after their descendants. That way, I can go straight from the medieval age to the end of the American Revolution and things will all hold together…maybe? I don’t know, and I don’t have to know it today. For today it’s enough that I put my butt in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard and know that, in this, I am already home.

Back at It

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For the first time in over an entire year, the other two adults in my family are both at work at the same time, so that means that I am, too. It’s great and it’s strange. Right now, as I write this, I am also in an informal meeting with Lisa from Buried Under Romance, because I was around and she was around, and “yeah, let’s do this right now” hit, and that’s pretty much how I feel about writing in general at the moment.

When I lay out my weekly plan in my household planner, the truth of our now finally hit – with that swatch of pastel orange highlighter, and the new swatch of blue highlighter, both Housemate and Real Life Romance Hero will be at work at the same time, for a several hour stretch. I stared at the colors for a while and then it hit. When I see both those colors at once, that is my prime writing time. How to make sure I’m inspired when that time hits? I am inspired. I like money. I like living indoors. I like eating food, and maybe most importantly, I have a pen and paper habit that cannot be tamed, so I better darned well have a stream of income open.

our one-year-old

For me, that means writing books. Since Melva and I have already passed the first anniversary of Chasing Prince Charming, it is high time that we get up to date on Drama King. Since the general suckiness :salute: of real life has been a factor in knocking me off track with my share of the work, it stands to reason that things straightening out will provide me with new opportunities to make up for lost time. At least that’s the plan. There will probably be some setbacks and side quests, but, for today, I am here at the keyboard, I have a concrete goal to meet, and I know Melva will provide the feedback I run on, so things are looking good.

As for historical romance, watch this space, as there will be an update soon. Trying a couple of new things, and pretty excited about them. Also kind of daunted because this will mean putting some pressure on myself, but I think it’s going to be the good kind of pressure, and never try, never know. All I’m going to say for right now. but historical romance fans, I will have something for you in the not too distant future.

Vagueposting, I know, but it’s fun to slip one of those in there after more than a year of the world being on fire. Today means that I am up to and able to interweave writing and planning and I like that combination. Right now, I’m looking at my temporary command center, at the blush aesthetic I have going on here, and the dark red Pilot Precise V5 (clicky!) I picked up not too long ago means that my autumn aesthetic is going to start organically finding its way into my day to day. I’m looking forward to that.

For right now, the new header will be the ‘face” of this blog for the rest of summer (to be measured by however long it feels right) and I will autumn-ify it as needed. I like that comfortable evolution of things slipping into place, rather than me trying to shove a ten pound cat into a two pound bag, which I am wont to do more times than I would care to admit. There will be a few new graphics, and I may move around the way things look in general, but it’s not o much becoming different as it is becoming right. I don’t know of a better way to put that, and I don’t think any better way is needed. What I do know is that this feels right, doesn’t need pushing, and is headed in the right direction.

Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: Jailbreak II: Hallway Boogaloo Edition

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Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. We’ll start with the mot important stuff. Aunt Anna says that means that she had a good writing week, but I have to disagree. Ther important stuff is about me, obviously.

First and arguably the most important thing is that the humans are reasonably sure that I am not pregnant because I am now in heat. That mostly means me slinking around the room, doing my very seductive (to boy cats, at least I hope) trilling calls, and being super lovey. It also involves me wanting to go find boy cats.

Yesterday, as we moved into a new room after a night of camping (during which there were zero opportunities to make a break for it) I did not throw away my shot (Hamilton reference for the win. Hm. Lin-Manuel Miranda, here’s a suggestion. Hear me out: Catmilton. Like Hamilton, but with cats. Eliza should totally be a calico girl. Think about it.) and while the aunts were concerned with getting their things inside, I went zoom through the barely open door.

That was when Aunt Anna told me to get back there, and I did not listen, but the other humans very much did. Uncle Rheuben shut the hallway door (never do that unless it is an emergency, and a kitty on the loose is an emergency) and Aunt Linda hurried after Aunt Anna in case Aunt Anna needed backup. As for me, I trotted down the hallway, with my happy tail high, making my super seductive boy cat call, but there were no boy cats.

There were no other cats, period. Actually, there was nobody except the aunts following me, a lot of closed doors, and carpet, carpet everywhere. I did see a set of stairs, but I don’t really know how stairs work, because I’ve never used them before, so I ignored them and kept going. Aunt Anna kept up with me and told me I wasn’t going anywhere. I kept going.

That’s when she pointed Very Sternly in the opposite direction, toward our new room, and she told me I had to go that way. I knew Aunt Anna meant business, so I turned right around and went that way. Aunt Linda laughed, and Uncle Rheuben made sure I got back in the room, and then I got food. Now the humans put a suitcase in front of the door, so I am less likely to slip through. It’s tough to be a kitty.

Plague Doctor freebie sticker from Jen.erating

For those who like to see where Aunt Anna does her writing and blogging stuff, this is what it looks like for this current stay. As Aunt Anna said while lugging the CPU and monitor up the stairs, it is time to either get one of the old laptops brought up to scratch, or get a new one. She’ll put that on the list of stuff to do while we are settled. She is happy to do the lugging, though, because that helps her move forward with the whole writing thing, which, this week, has included:

  • looking into hiring an editor/formatter/cover artist for one of her unreleased titles
  • made a short list of places to query her two out of print titles
  • started setting the framework for the follow-up to the book at the top of this list
  • given some long overdue attention to an Aunt Melva scene from Drama King and started making notes on her own scene to follow
  • attended a cyber-meeting of her local RWA chapter, which had a great workshop on how to get unstuck, and putting some of those methods into practice

All in all, pretty good. It appears my mews services have been effective. I will continue in that vein. Aunt Anna is also back reading, and is very happy to be participating in the Historical Romance Readathon, Weekend Edition. Same idea as the regular flavor, but downsized for today’s fast paced lifestyle. Aunt Anna is starting off her TBR list with two titles:

She’s keeping the list small for now, but if she finishes both during the weekend, she’ll add another. I don’t remember how long it was since she read anything, but that’s the way it goes. Reading slumps/droughts hit, and then they end, as abruptly. Aunt Anna is okay with that. She is still looking for a YA contemporary to tickle her fancy, and there is a fantasy collection, The Grand Tour, by E. Catherine Tobler, that she expects she will devour.

That return to reading will be the topic of Aunt Anna’s next blog entry at Buried Under Romance, which she expects to get up by tomorrow morning. One of the things she is working on right now is a social media planner, so she can keep better track of what she means to post, and when. Part of that also includes making sure her Instagram has the proper number of pictures of me, so I fully support that effort. Apparently she’s going to shoot for one-third pictures of me. Eh, it’s a start.

Finally, Aunt Anna would like to unveil my brand new signoff picture, which she might try making into a sticker. That, I want to see. Guess that’s about it for right now, so until then,

Headbonks!

Things They Don’t Tell You About Writing While Homeless

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In a word: everything. I went into this knowing nothing about how being between permanent addresses would affect my writing. Since we are getting ever closer to getting to the next permanent address, hopefully in the near future, here are a few things I’ve learned from this experience.

  1. It’s hard. Writing rituals, routines, or schedules? Buh-bye. Gone. Not there anymore. It’s uncomfortable and disorienting, and feels like adding insult to injury, when the questions of the day include things like “where are we sleeping tonight?” and “are we eating?” Writing fiction doesn’t seem like an important thing when basic needs are on a case by case basis,k especialy in the not-wanting-people-to-know stage.
  2. Writing groups/dates and memberships in professional organizsations may lapse. Conferences may be off the table, especially in this time of social isolation, because getting food on the talbe and a table upon which on can place that food, is top priority. There will be days when a write can’t. This does not, by the way, indicate failure.

2) It’s necessary. I have stories inside me, and they want to get out. They need to get out. For a long time, when our vagabond days just started, the only writing I had brain for was journaling. Oh so much journaling. I depleted the stash of notebooks I had on hand and went back into storage for more. Brain dumps, no filter, whatever was in my brain went on the page. I still do that, but I did that before, and I don’t see it going away any time soon. It primes the pump and clears the brain space for actual writing-writing things. (Fiction counts as writing-writing, for me.) Some screaming into the void, bits and pieces of my much-beloved, much-neglected historical and contemporary romances, sometimes all of the above at the same time. It happens.

Besides fiction, my own blog, and my still-feels-new position as head gal in charge of Buried Under Romance all suffered greatly, adn I am not okay with that, but I would also be the first person to tell somebody else not to feel guilty, so something to think about there. That’s the worst of it, really, the wanting desperately to connect with the works in progress, and not…quite…reaching. Sometimes it was because getting to pen and paper was an issue, or because I didn’t have enough me left in me to do that kind of thinking. Some times, the closest I could come to productivity was to remember. Remember that scene? Remember when that character did that thing? Or what I intended to write when they would do that thing? sometimes that’s enough.

3) It’s essential, which is not the same as necessary. I say this for me. I am not saying that any writer going through any kind of big life change absolutely must write, because that is not the case. If putting a thing aside is what yo need to do to be okay, absolutely do that. For me, writing in general, and writing romance in particular, has been a lifeline. Not only does the romance genre remind me that every story in this genre has a happy ending, no matter how dark the black moment may be, and that love (platonic and family as well as romantic; pick the ones you like and leave the rest) it’s that immersing myself in a good story, whether I am the one reading it or the one writing it, allows me to not escape, but gain respite.

Reading or writing fiction is a place I can go when I don’t want to be where I am. Yes, I did just quote my own character, Dominic, in Chasing Prince Charming, and when I do have to put down book or tablet or pen and paper and deal with things in the everyday world, I’m stronger.

There’s more to it, of course. This isn’t a one and done sort of topic, and I don’t want to be a downer here, but, in the words of Sir Elton John, I’m still Standing, and those of Ms. Gloria Gaynor, I will survive. I shall close out with the wise words from Mr. Elvis Costello…every day, every day, every day, every day, I write the book.

Typing With Wet Paws: Seeds of Discord Edition

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Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Don’t worry about the “Discord” in the title of today’s entry. nobody is angry. Aunt Anna is actually pretty happy because…

HIMYM Wait For It GIF - HIMYM WaitForIt Barney GIFs
https://tenor.com/view/himym-wait-for-it-barney-funny-gif-12243212

…she now has her very own Discord server, for the discussion of historical romance, from both a reading and writing perspective. she is still settling in there, so pardon the dust, but if you want to take a look, search for Lion and Thistle on Discord, or leave a request for a link in the comments, and I will pass that on to her.

Also exciting news is that earlier this week, Aunt Anna had a “fluff this” moment and pushed herself over the edge on finally starting her Patreon.

she finally did it

Do you want a chance to become one of her very first patrons? Wish you know when she was next offering her Play In Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys workshop? Get carefully curated recommendations of historical romance or contemporary young adult fiction? Have an idea of something else related to the writing or reading of romance you’d like to pay her to do? She is open to suggestions. Follow the link above, or here:

https://www.patreon.com/annacarrascobowling?fan_landing=true

For those wondering about Buried Under Romance, yes, she is still active there, and will be getting back on track ASAP.

As far as Goodreads is concerned, she throws her body over the keyboard when I even suggest looking at the reading challenge, but the new Kindle Fire arrived a couple of days ago, and her sigh of relief nearly blew me over. I will give her this one week grace period, and then there better be some activity, and I want reviews.

Uncle Rheuben helped Aunt Anna a lot in setting up her Patreon, which she really appreciates. There may be some changes as she gets settled in there, but having it up helps her feel more Anna-y. Is that a word? She says that it is. Anyway, that and editing, and getting back to blogging all make her want to get back to the business of writing, which includes :ulp: girding herself to wade into the waters of indie publishing. Right now, she’s thinking of starting with A Heart Most Errant. This includes querying indie editors, scouring cover stock sites, and making idea soup for at least two companion stories, which is definitely new for her, but I am fairly sure there will be cats. Eating plague rats and all.

now for the part about me

This week, it’s been pretty nice, not only because Aunt Anna is pretty much back to work as it were, but because Aunt Linda and Uncle Rheuben went out for errands one time and brought home Red Dot!!! I missed Red Dot SO MUCH but he is back and I chase him and stalk him and run like crazy, and it is The Best. Also the paper bag that is not trash, thankyouverymuch, it is my bed. So is Aunt Anna and Uncle Rheuben’s bed. I am trying to set a reasonable bedtime for them, but they are not listening. Maybe I need toknock over more things.

Also, Aunt Anna was in a Zoom meeting last week, and I crashed it. Meeting, xchmeeting, I needed cuddles. I am not sorry, and I’ll do it again. Probably tomorrow, when her local RWA chapter has their monthly meeting on the interwebs.

Time for me to supervise Aunt Anna’s editing, so I’d better sign off for now, but I’ll see you all next week. Calico got to go!

Headbonks!

Signs of Life

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Hello, all. Anna here, breaking radio silence for a bit. Hopefully Storm and I will be back to a semi regular blogging schedule, along with writing-writing, but here’s where things stand at the moment.

It’s been a rough several months, ever since the bedbug incident, and the time that we thought would be only a couple of weeks between apartments is now at month number ten. It’s been a combination of motel living, friends, and the occasional impromptu camping for short periods of time. As one can imagine, not great for mental health, but yay church family and yay modern medicine. With the COVID outbreak, this did affect Real Life Romance Hero’s line of work, as he’s a front of the house restaurant dude, and there has been no front of house for a wile. He’s looking into options, especially as restaurants begin to reopen, so there will be good news on that front soon. We’re also working with some pros to help us navigate the system, which takes some time, but will get results.

Last week, Real Life Romance Hero was in the ER twice (he is okay now) and, at the same time, my tablet died, which made blogging and social media on the go a lot more challenging, but not insurmountable.

I have long been a paper and pen writer, and the stories still need to be told, so that’s a good thing. Transcription time is also editing time, and there will be a chunk of that when the dust settles. Right now, RLRH and I are sharing a laptop, and I have been using that for social media and Simming. (Also planning a return to vlogging in the near future. First on my list: old school romance reviews.) Playing Sims stretches those storytelling muscles, and, as I dive deeper into custom content and mods and editing screenshots, I like the energy it brings. My old school Kindle is still going strong, which makes me immensely grateful that I can carry an entire library with me anywhere I go.

Deciding what to put here can be a tricky thing at times. Is this a writing blog? Is this a romance genre blog? Is it a personal blog? The answer to that is that it’s all of those things, because it’s all part of the journey. Right now, the writing life is more chaotic than I would like, but it is still happening. Number one on the list is getting Drama King, my second contemporary romance with Melva Michaelian, and getting Her Last First Kiss to the end of its second draft, which may involve some reconstruction, but I have done that before, with Orphans in the Storm, which I also wrote during a challenging time and didn’t remember selling until I got the request for the final-final manuscript from the publisher. That book, along with my first historical, My Outcast Heart, is back in my hands. Still weighing the options when it comes to traditional versus indie publishing, but these titles will be back out there as soon as I can make it happen.

For those whose most pressing question is “where are the dang kitty pictures, woman? You know that’s what I’m here for,” here you go:

Storm is doing great, and she will be back to her regular blogging duties hopefully next week. We definitely have us a travel cat, and she has taken beautifully to coming along on certain errands, when we can pop her carrier into a shopping cart and push her around while we shop. She is definitely getting that kitty stroller when we are settled, and a kitty friendly backpack/kitty Bjorn sort of thing is also a possibility. This cat is definitely going places, and so are we.

I’ve also picked up a freelance editing gig that is super fun, and something I would be very happy to do more of in the future.

A couple of days ago, while checking out the social media links for a favorite Simmer, I semi-accidentally created a Discord account. Of course being me, my immediate thought was “I wonder if there are any historical romance themed Discord servers?” and my second thought, “if not, I bet I could start one.” Not taking on the second part of that right away, but if you kno of any romance reading or writing themed Discord servers, I definitely want in.

As I’ve noted in this blog before, I have long since known I do better in my original writing when I am actively involved in a fandom. In the past, that’s usually been TV shows, but I haven’t been in a TV mode much in the last few months. Right now, it’s Sims and my favorite brand of historical romance: rich and intricate and emotional. I fully intend on steering into that particular skid.

That’s about it for the current update. TLDR (too long, didn’t read) version: things are progressing and should stabilize soon. Writing is happening. Cats are good. I love romance novels, Sims, and all of you.

Typing With Wet Paws: Summer’s On Edition

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Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Even though the calendar says summer does not officially start until later in the month (I am only two, so I don’t know a lot about calendars) for Aunt Anna and the other humans in my family, this counts as summer. It is Aunt Anna’s least favorite season, but our basecamp, as Aunt Anna calls it, has air conditioning, so the summer really doesn’t bother her or Uncle Rheuben at all. They have also found that they share a desk really, really well. If I am feeling especially sproingy, we can all three share the same workspace. That’s what I call efficient use of space.

Even though summer is usually Aunt Anna’s worst time when it comes to productivity, she had a super good writing day yesterday. It all started with hauling herself over to the computer with the promise that if she could write some notes on the stinkybad movie in Drama King, and then send it to Aunt Melva, then she could play Sims. Aunt Anna is super easy to bribe with Sims, especially since she had to reinstall stuff when the latest patch broke pretty much everything (whoops) and she had to start fresh. Surprisingly, she did not mind that at all.

Aunt Anna says making this stuff helps her think

Starting from scratch was actually kind of fun, and she got to use one of the premade families to test out some new gameplay features, fiddle with custom content, and maybe a mod or two. If you think that sounds kind of like writing fan fiction, you are not wrong. Aunt Anna sees that, too. As a matter of fact, Aunt Anna had Sims stuff open in the background while she read a lot of Wikipedia articles about movies (stinkybad or otherwise) to know what kind of information goes into such a thing, laughed a lot while using name generators to get over herself already, slap down a placeholder and move forward, and refresh herself on the recipe for a romantic comedy movie, plus all the ways one could go wrong.

In the middle of doing all that, she also had Scapple open. It is kind of like a whiteboard on the computer. If you don’t know what Scapple is, click here to read about it on Ginny Frost‘s Apps For Writers blog. (Miss Ginny also writes contemporary romance for The Wild Rose Press, so check out her books while you’re over there.) While Aunt Anna had the seeds of a scene on her mind, she might as well get a few things down where she would be able to easily access them.

That’s when something clicked open, and a whole bunch of stuff came out of her head and onto the screen. It’s kind of messy, mixing tenses and Aunt Melva (who has a PhD in English) may have a headache from switching from script form (many of Aunt Anna’s first-first drafts of dialogue are in script form when they fall out of her head) to dialogue and narration but then again she knows how Aunt Anna works and still wants to write books with her anyway, so there’s that.

That stuff is now in Aunt Melva’s hands, so Aunt Anna is now turning her hand to writing a faux Wikipedia article for a different fictional movie, and getting ready to do the same thing with Her Last First Kiss, but there won’t be any movie stuff in there, because there were no movies in 1784. Probably no YouTube mouse videos, either. It was the dark ages.

Speaking of mice, Aunt Anna and Aunt Linda got me some! Uncle Rheuben stayed behind to give me pets while the other humans went for groceries, and they found themselves in the cat toy section. Ever since my red dot died, I have taken to going to the corner near the door and giving big kitty eyes, to indicate that I really need a new red dot. Well, the store didn’t have any (the nerve!) but they did have a package of three catnip mice. Aunt Anna figured they’d see how I liked them, so she threw me one as soon as she got back, and I LOVE IT. I call them all “Prey.” When I bring Prey to a human, the human is to throw Prey, which I will then chase and CATCH, and then I have no idea what comes next, but a nap comes after that, and the whole thing starts over again.

Before I fur-get (hah, see what I did there?) Aunt Anna was at Buried Under Romance this past Saturday, with a topic that comes to a lot of readers’ minds this time of year (or so I have heard. Again, I’m two.) and that’s weddings. Are they really needed in cotemporary romance? If that is a topic that interests you, read about it here, and pull up a chair in the comments to chime in with your opinion. Aunt Anna already talks to herself enough. Trust me on this one. Part two will be about historical romance, and probably will go up Saturday but might be Sunday because she just got done being sick and is running a little behind.

Okay, I think that’s it for now. No Goodreads update, because mostly Aunt Anna read a little bit of stuff and fell asleep and then her loans expired, so she is starting new books now. Maybe I will start telling you when she starts reading a book and then what happened to it. First, though, this Prey isn’t going to chase itself.

Headbonks!

Meat Loaf, Muscle Memory, and Writing Romance (Also Sims)

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Most importantly, the Meat Loaf of which I speak is the singer, not the food. I did get to meet Meat for about five seconds, at an autograph signing. I blurted out that he broke my creative block. He immediately lit up like a Golden Retriever at hearing “who’s a good boy?” and asked which song, and how, and what genre did I write, which was when his handler gently apologized to both of us and said he had to move the line along. That stuck with me, though, and cemented my love of the Loaf. Which brings me to last night.

I was not listening to Meat Loaf last night. I was listening to a Sims 4 Let’s Play video, which is probably my current favorite viewing material. Even so, I had no intention of writing-writing (cue amused chuckles) as I listened, and managed custom content, and fiddled with my Sims journal, shown here in the charge of my co-worker:

That thing is packed full of altered index cards, because a) they are sturdier, and b) with my vision, dot grid only works if it’s about an inch from my face, and crooked writing is a big no. Every card is a Sim, their aspirations, goals, traits, spouses, children, and ultimately, when they move to the “graveyard” section, causes of death. No overthinking on this stuff, because it’s a game. So, there I am, thinking that I’m going to have to cut down and punch more cards, because we’re moving into the next generation, and then I’m grabbing one of those discarded dot grid pages, to make notes for the cards I’m going to want to make for the Sims 2 and 5 versions of what I’m doing.

Still no Meat Loaf. There was, though, at some point, a frantic pat through the dark (ah, the joys of motel writing when Real Life Romance Hero is asleep) for my writing-writing notebook. After that, a lot of ink came out of the pen in my hand, as notes on a long-overdue scene from Drama King filled the formerly empty pages. Pages. Plural. When I am done with this post, I will transcribe and send the scene off to my long-suffering contemporary writing partner, Melva.

Still not listening to Meat Loaf while I wrote that, but as soon as I set down notebook and pen to try and get some sleep (my brain throws slumberless parties on a regular basis) the first notes of this song trickled into my subconscious:

this song is relevant to my interstes

One thing that has stuck with me was a tidbit from an interview, where Meat talked about his songwriter, Jim Steinman. He said that what audiences need to remember is that everything Jim writes is part of a universe in his head, that is basically an epic vampire opera. I believe some of it was produced as an opera, in Germany. Possibly in German, which does not sound out of the realm of possibility.

What does this all have to do with muscle memory or romance writing? Actually, a lot. In the midst of custom content and screenshots and Let’s Plays and other things that are still creative but not focused on producing pages, my brain gets to free-float and do its story stuff wihout me getting in its way. Ad the facilitator of a long-ago writer’s group often said, once we put pen or pencil to paper, we were not allowed to stop it moving. The process would beget the product.

With things like this, my brain goes “storystorystorystorystory” and “atttttmosssspheeeeeeereeeee” until I am darned near besotted with it. When that happens, oh look, how did all that writing get on the page? I better get more paper. Not just for one book, because while I was furiously scratching out dialogue for Drama King, Bern and Ruby, from Her Last First Kiss were at the edge of my vision, tapping their feet, and next to them, Cornelis and Lydia from Plunder. All of them with lists grievances….uh, adjustments I need to make so that they look the say they do on the page as they do in my head. Not only physically, but you get the drift.

One of my Sims notes is to set aside time (after writing) to learn Reshade (lighting editor…ish?) and fine tuning presets I didn’t even know could be fine-tuned but make all the difference from bright and cartoony (which is fun, too, when I have the taste for it) to…my people. It is like that with reading and writing, too, as recent conversations with bookish friends have confirmed. Keep at it, when it’s possible. Put the pen on the paper. Keep it there. Sooner or later the muscle memory will kick in, and therein likes the tale. Literally.

Anna

Intravenous Baby Steps

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Writing during a pandemic is something most of us do not have a lot of experience in doing. Keeping a productive writing schedule during a pendemic, when between permanent addresses, with one’s entire family in close quarters, with a high energy cat, making frequent 200 mile jaunts across state lines, dealing with spotty interwebs, two depressions and an anxiety, insomnia, a spouse whose job doesn’t exist during lockdown, is, well…something. Can’t make this stuff up, and frankly, I wouldn’t want to, even though making stuff up is kind of the whole point of this fiction writing thing.


On the one hand, I can defintely relate to feeling behind pretty much everything, as there are days when writing is just…no. On the other hand, I am already more than sixty percent of the way to my goal of ninety books on my Goodreads challenge, I am getting my bearings on Buried Under Romance, and the micro size Happy Notes I set up as my Sims journal for my current gameplay is getting, for lack of a better word, chonky.

I have gone hardcore into this play style, having downloaded a save file of the base game neighborhood of Simsd 2 reinterpreted for Sims 3, with a rotational play system, free will on high, story progression (aka Sims I am not controlling doing their own thing) and an ever growing cache of custom content. Plus mods. Oh the mods. Basically, it’s writing, only with pixels. Also a dystopian lighting mod, but that’s another story.

I am writing this post with a full “house” -aka hubster and bff home, cat reminding me that we did promise to get her a new red dot. I am in my pajamas, still, because insomnia turned into “may as well turn on the computer,” which turned into “eh, boot Sims,” which turned into “listen to Journeys of Romance podcast while playing,” which turned into catching the love of writing, which led to opening this Word Pad document while doing all of the above, and here we are.


Breakfast/lunch is a bag of microwave popcorn, positioned to the left of the keyboard, beverage of choice positioned to the right, notebook on top of the CPU, under the monitor, color coded getl pens at hand, to catch the its of story and “real” writing that trickle in as I do all of the rest. There are a bunch of notes for the Drama King scenes I owe my co-writer and I am going to have to do some reconstructing on Her Last First Kiss, but, with these intravenous baby steps, one thing at a time, it feels…doable.

Typing With Wet Paws: Almost Out of April Edition

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Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Lots of mews duty for me this week, as Aunt Anna had a couple rounds with the anxiety monster, but I think things are under control now. That’s a good thing, because that means she can take care of some overdue stuff, like writing things and keeping new content up on Buried Under Romance.

Last week, the internet wasn’t working so great, but things should be better now. Aunt Anna is glad for that. She is a little salty about the Will and Grace finale, but gives it a grade of incomplete. If it’s pass/fail, pass, which is better than fail. She also hit her loan limit for library e-books, so there is going to be a bunch of reading ahead. She has now read fifty-four out of ninety books, putting her at sixt6y percent of the way to her goal.

She is well aware that a bunch of the books in her currently reading sidebar have been there for a while. Some are even from before me. At least one is. part of her says she should really get on that, but another part says that putting should in her pleasure reading takes the pleasure right out of it. I am not sure which is right. I’m only two, so I don’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing (or a lot of things, really.) What do you think?

Aunt Anna thanks everyone for their patience with the Buried Under Romance stuff. She hasn’t forgotten or gone away. It’s this whole life thing, but romance novels are a happy place. What ones are you reading? Aunt Anna is mostly reading e-books now, as we are still in for-now lodgings. I can tell you one thing: when we do move into our new apartment, I am going to have a lot of book scenting to do. Her tablet and Kindle cases already smell like me, so we are all set there.

Anyway, I am being a good girl, if you don’t count 4AM Parkour sessions and systemstically knocking things off Aunt Anna’s nightstand (and only her nightstand. Uncle Rheuben doesn’t have much smackable on his, nor does Aunt Linda. I also like sleeping right above or next to Aunt Anna’s head. That’s not at all creepy, right? I want to make sure she is okay.

The big family news around here is that Chez Grandmere has sold, so it is time for Aunt Anna and Aunt Linda (Uncle Rheuben will stay here with me) to go out in that direction and load the stuff we are keeping onto a truck and drive it back to NY, where they will put it in a storage unit. From there, once lockdown is lifted, Aunt Linda will take one box of Grandma stuff every time she visits and let Grandma decide where it all goes. I am very happy to report that when it was time to put labels on things, Aunt Anna put Storm labels on my favorite chair and headboard. Well, every chair is the cat’s chair. You know what I mean, but this is the one where I hid in the boxspring. It’s special.

Let’s see, what else? Aunt Anna and Aunt Melva are putting together a real official draft of Drama King to date, with Aunt Anna searching her files for scenes that go in particular places. When they wrote Chasing Prince Charming, Aunt Anna numbered all the scenes. She is probably going back to that because it made this kind of thing a whole lot easier. She’s still working on finding the writing routine that works for the current arrangements, as in no door to close, and can’t go to a coffee shop to write. She’s smart, though, so she’ll figure it out. Trial and error, a good pair of earbuds, and some creative scheduling should do the trick.

I think I’ll wrap it here, and see if I can give one of the humans the big eyes so they will play red dot with me. I love red dot. I will catch him. I will.

Headbonks!