The Myriad Inspirations of a Snowbound Magpie

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Monday’s post on Wednesday means it already comes with a story behind it. Throw in a snowstorm, some happy mail, The Oven That Would Not Cook, and a bunny trail into the world of tabletop gaming, and here we are.

Monday afternoon, Housemate and I headed to the big storage unit, to retrieve some desired office supplies, aka my favorite fineliners and my washi tape collection, version 1.0. Housemate had her own interest in this, as, over the weekend, I lured her over to the dark side of becoming a planner person. Of course this means she needs washi. The trip was a washout, though, as the boxes I needed weren’t immediately accessible, so this is going to be a job for an uncommitted Saturday morning. Library trip that was meant to make up for the storage unit fail, was similarly unsuccessful, but there was a good sized box of happy mail waiting for me, when I got home.

C, a friend I met through an online group for stationery aficionados, is from Louisiana and sent me a box of Mardi Gras, to help survive the polar vortex. That is quality friendship, right there. Housemate and Real Life Romance Hero are helping me pick out items to include in a box of Upstate New York, to send her in return. This box brought a lot of memories, all of them good. I have never been to New Orleans, or experienced Mardi Gras, (apart from something we will call The Mardi Gras Coin Incident, wherein a certain retail management team may have wanted to rethink their kids’ program for this particular holiday) in the really real world, but, back in the days of the first fandom I ever dove into, well, a few key characters certainly did.

Among the beads and the coins, and the mask and fleur de lis ornaments (you know what they say, being given three items on a certain theme means one collects them now. Guess this means I now collect masks and fleur de lis, and I am okay with that) and special Cajun flavored potato chips (they were delicious) was this fine fellow.

say hello to my little friend

His name is Iko (full name Iko Iko, naturally) and, while my original plan was for him to reside on my desk, RLRH had other ideas. Iko now resides in our room. This does not surprise me, and it does give a measure of job security, not only to Sebastian, but to Bo Bison, who lives on top of the printer, and the as yet unnamed Christmas bear who is sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the keyboard shelf, not imposing on anyone.

This is also the week where I finally carved out time (thanks, insomnia) to watch The Swimmer, which I have been wanting to see ever since a friend mentioned it, months ago. It was surreal and gorgeous and tragic and I want to dissect it. Last night was also when I could no longer resist H’s persuasion (aka relentless spamming of lore and links, not at all a complaint) and fell down a rabbit hole. That rabbit hole, aka the Critical Role webseries, in which a group of professional voice actors improv their way through a tabletop roleplaying game, may or may not be swallowing me whole, even though I have not yet seen my first full episode. Yet. I have, however, scoured the web for blush pink dice that still have some badassery about them, and whether there might be any places for a curious beginner to suss out things in person. I may or may not have bookmarked a few sites to learn more about the character creation process, because that is germane to the work we writers do on a daily basis, so I’d still be working, right?

This has also been the week when my grumbling about how my daily agenda traveler’s notebook insert will only last me one more month, and I will need to purchase another (but where?) unless I want to use the format of the one I currently have as a template and make my own, because that is totally allowable, and there are no gatekeepers on this sort of thing. Worst case scenario all I do is save myself a few pennies, by using what I have on hand. Best case, well, there’s no ceiling, now, is there?

All of this, combined with my pre-bed devourings of historical romance, once again, leads to one inevitable conclusion. I am, once again, in the magpie stage, grabbing shiny things to toss into my hoard, while moving along with getting Chasing Prince Charming through the next round of edits, second drafting Her Last First Kiss, and first drafting Drama King. This is not the time I would have picked for the magpie stage to hit, but, then again, that’s not how it works. I don’t get to pick. Maybe others do, but, if I had the chance to pick that option, I’d have to turn it down. I like the surprise of “oh, it’s happening,” that pops in at random intervals.

This time, I have learned. Last night, while Skyping with H, and pulling the trigger on my first Critical Role episode, I hit pause. I had to grab a notebook and mechanical pencil, because we magpies need a safe space to stash our shinines. (Accidental alliteration thrown in for no extra fee) Other things tumbled in, the laundry room reading session where I ignored a Kindle full of TBRs, to reread one of my own old documents, the latest feedback on the current HLFK chapter, and the signpoints up ahead that Melva and I need to hit for Drama King where it needs to be, when those two crazy kids finally figure out that they’re perfect for each other.

Sometimes, it does feel like juggling a lot of chainsaws at one time, but this kind of thing is an occupational hazard. What unexpected sources of inspiration are seeking you out this week?


Typing With Stuffed Paws: About Last Week Edition

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Greetings, Foolish mortals. Sebastian Thunderpaws Hart-Bowling, coming at you with all the stuff from the week that was. Week and a half in this case, because sick days and snow days can do a number on the ol’ blogging schedule. Thankfully, Writer Chick is mostly recovered, and the snow is pretty much just sitting there, so things are on their way back to normal, or as normal as things get around here.

Speaking of which, let’s dive right in. As per usual, Writer Chick was at Buried Under Romance this past weekend, with a timely topic. What exactly does she mean when she says these books are sick? Click the link in the caption, or right here, if you want to find out.

These Books Are Sick

Hopping over to Writer Chick’s Goodreads challenge, which is off to a fine start. As of today, Writer Chick has read eleven out of ninety-five books for the year, which puts her at twelve percent of her way to her goal, and we are not even out of January yet. This puts Writer Chick already five books ahead of schedule. Has she started off the year the way she means to go on? Stick around and find out.

This brings us to the writing portion of this blog, and Writer Chick has been doing pretty well for herself, sick days and snow days notwithstanding. Yesterday was a rain day, which is second only to snow, and a Skype session with Other Writer Chick. This is where they crunched some numbers, and found out that they are now 33% of the way through their first draft of Drama King. This, again, means it is time to crank up the stakes, which, for these two, involves a lot of evil cackling, and, for Writer Chick, making a lot of freeform notes while they brainstorm. Writer Chick and Other Writer Chick are now waiting for the second round of edits to land on their desks. They plan to tackle that as soon as it does, and do that right. Writer Chick actually loves this part of the process, and Other Writer Chick is very glad that Writer Chick does.

Yesterday, Writer Chick sent off the fifth chapter of Her Last First Kiss to Other Writer Chick, whose comments make Writer Chick eager to keep going forward. Writer Chick is rather appalled at the sheer number of missing, extraneous, or misplaced commas, but good catch on Other Writer Chick finding them. This is one of the perils and pitfalls of having a critique partner who has a PhD in English. It is kind of like having a human grammar check, which is not a bad thing to have around, at all. Other Writer Chick has also said some super encouraging things about voice and detail, and those things make Writer Chick very, very happy.

Currently, Writer Chick is reading yet another installment of Fruits Basket. At this point, I am concerned about what’s going to happen once she is done with this series, because there are about twelve collectors’ editions, and she is now on volume number nine. This means she is in the home stretch, where things are getting super emotional. That is exactly how Writer Chick likes things, so that’s a check in the plus column. The question is, what is she going to read when she is done with these books? Please, for my sake, if you have highly angsty romance, with HEA ending, leave it in the comments. Writer Chick squeezes really hard when she is in the throes of a book hangover. That’s the downside of reading a series Writer Chick likes that much, but the upside, and the interesting side, is that, even though these books are set in pretty much modern day (maybe a decade or two back) Japan, and people do tend to turn into animals now and again (yes, there is someone who turns into a handsome orange boy, and he is one of the main guys, so that is a very big plus, if you ask me) but, as Writer Chick said, at length, to H, in one of their chats, these books have a lot of the flavor of Writer Chick’s favoritest historical romances. Writer Chick may explain that later.

This Kindle is full of Elizabeth Hoyt

What i can tell you is that she dove directly into a lot of Elizabeth Hoyt historicals, all set in the Georgian era, which may be part of what is fueling the fire for working on Her Last First Kiss. Right now, Writer Chick is on the hunt for Ms. Hoyt’s newest, Not the Duke’s Darling, which is the start of a new series, reading the last book in the Maiden Lane series, and has the first book in yet another series, in audio, for listening while she is doing other things. Is that a lot of books? Yes. Is that a sufficient amount of books? No.

It is, however, a sufficient amount of blogging for today. The sunbeam is moving, and I must follow. See you next time.

Peace out,


Wednesday Live (Writing)

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This morning, N and I sat across our usual Panera table from each other, no conversation, apart from notifications that one of us is getting up to refill beverage, or make room for more beverage. The rest of the time, we had fingers on the keyboards of our AlphaSmart Neos, making with the tippity tap. N counted the words she added to her document during this session, and came up with a pretty good number. Do not ask me what it was, but it was good. I did not count, only kept moving forward, with occasional breaks to stretch, and would have happily kept going, had not Mr. N arrived to whisk N away and drop me home.

At some point, I will connect Neo and desktop, and make some sense out of what I typed into the new file, ove multiple cups of tea. I hadn’t gone into this session with a game plan, which is unlike me, but, when N discovered that she’d brought the wrong file with her, and announced she would start a new one, I told her I would do the same, in solidarity.

For both of us, this was the telling ourselves the story phase, where we are shoveling sand into the metaphorical sandboxes and we will craft it into dragons, castles, or whatever, later on, when it’s time to add water and shells and all that good stuff. At first, I thought I’d draft this blog entry during our live writing session, but that’s not what ended up happening. As writing sessions often start, I began this one by brain dumping into the file, (aka blorching) and trusting that, in time, I would make something resembling actual fiction at some point. Which is what happened. For this particular session, it ended up being me reaching into my long-term memory, because the actual notes I wanted to go with were stored in a chat log I did not have access to at the time (partly because I was not on the internet. This is one of the benefits of the  AlphaSmart, and why I will be using it more often, in the future.)

I think I did okay on this one, and N reports that she is also satisfied with her own results. We’ll be doing this again in the future. N also asked me to blog about procrastination, and, ironically, I will be doing that later because this morning’s acting as if I knew what I was doing turned into –surprise, surprise- me actually knowing what I was doing, I am now in the groove, and want to hold onto that. Call it priming the pump, warmups, authorial appetizers, whatever, all I know is that , today, it worked.

Today’s picture is the bottom shelf of my bookshelf-turned desk. I did take a regular deskscape, but don’t think I’ve shared the bottom shelf, at least since it found its current iteration. Tallest to shortest, we have my Her Last First Kiss binder, (in need of complete overhaul, but that’s another story, pun intended) desk planner, Dylusions traveler’s notebook (for daily agenda,) big pen case, small pen case, silverware organizer that is now a pen organizer, because it is too big for our kitchen drawers. The binder found its place this morning, on my way out the door, to meet N, because the way it was floating around my corner of our common room was driving me crazy, and it needed a home already.

Having the items I need, at arm’s reach, in order, and easily accessible, makes the business of writing a lot smoother, and a lot more fun. When I came home, I put the AlphaSmart (it lives in its bag) in its appointed place, so what I wrote there can have some time to mellow, and I can concentrate on what’s next on my list. Today, it’s this entry, and then I have a scene to edit for Drama King. After that, I have Melva’s notes on the latest chapter of Her Last First Kiss. Having someone to be accountable to for this project helps keep me focused, and I like being able to give a positive answer for how things are going for Bern and Ruby (hint: not smooth sailing for them at this point, but I am having a blast.)

Okay, that’s the magic seven hundred (self imposed minimum blog word count) so time to pop this entry on the blog, grab some lunch, and then off to play with my imaginary friends. What are you up to, this fine midweek?


Digging Out

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Here we are, once again at Monday. The cold is mostly gone (mostly,) and there is a whole lot of snow outside. The temperature is in the butt cold range, and Real Life Romance Hero is home today, as his place of employment would rather their people not freeze, so this is not as solitary as I would have expected for the day when job one is to figure out how I am going to dig out from basically a week spent away from “real” writing work.

This, of course, begs the question, what is real writing work? Snow is my favorite weather, which is a plus for someone living in NY, during winter. Everything crisp and clean and sparkly, is one of my favorite sights. Because I live in a city, this also means that clean and white and sparkly does not last very long. There are piles of greyish brown ice, puddles of yellow from local canines, odd bits of twigs and shed evergreen needles, trash, and probably a few things that we would all prefer not to itemize. It is kind of like that with writing.

Having a cold like the one that moved in with our family means that butt in chair and fingers on keyboard is not always going to happen, but there is no law against bringing pen and paper to bed. Which is, no surprise, something I do anyway, and, sometimes, all that pen and paper do is sit there while I sleep. They also sit there while I don’t-sleep, because I have hit a thread of insomnia.

Insomnia and colds have a few things in common, namely that the person is in bed, but not having a lot of fun, but they are both well served by a pair of earbuds and audiobooks. Even though the books available at the click of a button (Overdrive) are a sliver of what’s available in the wider world, having a selection of books available in an instant, where I can crawl into my blanket fort and have somebody read me a story, is good for both body and soul.

In the best of all possible worlds, there would be a sort of air lock between sick days, or snow days, or sick days followed by snow days, and regular writing days/return to everyday life after several days of being out of the norm. All of that stuff I’d wanted to do over the sick week, was still there when I got up this morning, and, at first glance, it did look like big chunks of gray and brown ice, with all the traditional accoutrements.

There’s the part of the process that is standing in the middle of the mess, hands on hips, aghast at how much accumulated in my functional absence. Then there’s the “how do I do this stuff again?” portion of our day. Obviously, I can do this, because I was in the middle of doing it when the cold dragged me under, and the snow snowed me under. That snow, though, is still sparkly and pretty and fun to play in, even though there are big icebergs in the middle of the parking lot, so it’s enough to get my boots and mittens on, and tread outside.

Since there is a parking area outside our building, instead of going straight to the sidewalk, none of the actual tenants (aka me) actually have to shovel. This means my back is safe (from that.) I know, I know, I am rambling, and need to get back to the writing things. That, as things would turn out, is exactly what I am doing, rambling down these bunny trails. This is the time to slap everything on the page and/or screen and then see what sticks, afterwards.

A lot of that is messy, but, if I keep at it long enough, the order begins to appear. Today, I swept the crusty tissues and books to be put away “later,” from the coffee table near my desk, and arranged the desk organizer thingies, acquired before the storm, and let my brain free float. Part of that was expressly so that I could follow up on YouTube videos I’d watched, on sick days, about better use of Instagram, aka, the social media platform that appeals to me most, at present. Does using a white board to reflect light, and taking the picture in front of natural light, get rid of the yellow tint that has plagued my pictures for a while now? Could be.


How are you digging out of the weekend?

Köld Front

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Whenever Monday’s blog shows up on Wednesday, we know there is a story behind it. Saturday, I felt fine. Had a great time at Capitol Region Romance Writers. Fabulous presentation by Jeanette Grey, a pen swap, some planner chatter (no, this is not a post about planners) with like-minded souls, fun ride there and back, with N and Mr. N, lovely tea at home with Housemate, and quality time with Real Life Romance Hero.

Then I woke, around 1AM on Sunday, both nostrils doing their best Niagara Falls impressions. Not what I would have chosen, especially since I had two volunteer commitments, back to back, for Sunday. For anybody who had to deal with the spacey chick, my deepest apologies. Monday, I spent mostly sleeping, or staring at the ceiling, making a sound vaguely like a foghorn, subsisting on a diet of cherry cough drops and ginger ale. I made myself three cups of tea on Monday, and, each time, I fell asleep before I could drink said tea, waking up when it was disgustingly, un-drinkably cold.

Part of my brain urged me to seize the day. Sick in bed? Yes! The time has come! Netflix all day! Read all the books! Make art! I did none of those things. I lay there in a nest of blankets and tissues, alternating between fever and chills. Thankfully, Nurse Real Life Romance Hero was on the job, and he was a rock star. Even Sebastian pulled extra pillow duty. I made an attempt, yesterday, to rally, which can best be exemplified by mentioning that there is a small notebook of black paper, with gilded edges, around here somewhere, and I have no idea where. We live in a one bedroom apartment. There are not that many places it could be. but misplacing specialty paper is a pretty good sign it’s time to go back to bed. I slept next to a new pack of markers for two days, then did not sleep at all for two nights in a row.

Which brings us to today. I’m still not one hundred percent (that will come) but my brain circles back to Saturday’s CR-RWA meeting. The topic was goal setting for the disappointed writer, which is extremely relative to my interests. Also, I hated having to put off this week’s session with N (we had live writing scheduled!) so I was for sure not wanting to miss my Skype talk with Melva, which means I need to get my behind in gear, and cram a week’s worth of work into one day. Okay, maybe a few days’ worth and move a couple of other things into next week.

What I’ve got right now is this blog, because darned if I am going to miss a second blog this week, then I need to send the latest version of chapter four of Her Last First Kiss to Melva, then look over her latest Drama King scene, and make comments. I also have a scene for Drama King, that I had a ton of fun first-drafting, that needs some smoothing out/second drafting, and I cannot wait to get to any of the above. There is, however, the not so small matter of a cold that has taken on a life of its own. Well, his own.

We call him Köld. The umlat is important. He sounds Swedish, and looks like he plays in a death metal band. He’s a gregarious sort, making the rounds from Patient Zero (aka Real Life Romance Hero) to Housemate, and, then, when I thought I would escape this Köld front, but, alas, no. Köld will, in time, wander off to meet new friends, instead of plopping himself in my computer chair to play MMOs for entire weekends at a time. I would assume he’s playing something like Skyrim. He seems the type. When he does wander off, I will reclaim my throne, and get back to the business of romance writing.

I may even miss him when he’s gone. Not going to lie, having a handsome private nurse/personal chef, at my beck and call, is pretty awesome. He says he has to work tomorrow, so I will be in charge of my own meals. I would grumble (his roast beef melt is amazing) but I’m looking forward to Skyping with Melva, getting up to date on all things with The Wild Rose Press, and Chasing Prince Charming. There will be laundry to do, as Köld uses a lot of towels (also t-shirts and pajamas) but that means reading time, which means I get to make up for some of what I lost by sleeping next to a box of markers.

Who else has experienced a Köld front this winter? What’s your favorite sick day indulgence? Let me know in the comments: I am taking suggestions.

Typing With Stuffed Paws: Marathon Weekend Edition

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Greetings, Foolish Mortals. Sebastian Thunderpaws Hart-Bowling coming at you with all the stuff on the week that was. 2019 is in full swing, and Writer Chick is meeting it head-on, because all of her mucking about with various notebooks seems to be paying off, but more on that later. For now, it’s time to dive into the compulsories and getting those out of the way.

May the reading odds be ever in your favor…

First, as always, Writer Chick was at Buried Under Romance, on this past Saturday. This time, she’s all about the reading games many people play at this time of year. The link in the caption above will take you there, or, if you’re lazy like me, this works, too.

Currently reading

The library wanted their copy of Heartless, by Mary Balogh, back, so Writer Chick is now re-reading that book on her Kindle (which, by the way, she needs to charge, so, Writer Chick, do the right thing.) She is now on Fruits Basket collectors’ edition number five, and needs to send volumes three through five, back to H, so H can send her the next batch. Writer Chick is also planning to put an extra book in her package to H, that being a book that she thinks H will like. Right now, she is thinking maybe Wideacre, by Phillipa Gregory.

Writer Chick is charging into 2019 with her Goodreads challenge, going into the second week with four books read, out of ninety-five, which puts her two books ahead of schedule. The Fruits Basket collections are big, but they read quickly, so this is plumping her reading tracker in the page count department, as well. This brings her to four percent of the annual goal. Going into the new year, already two books ahead, is probably a smart move, because the marathon weekend is upon us, and reading for marathon weekends gets iffy.

Tomorrow is Writer Chick’s Capitol Region Romance Writers meeting. On Sunday, she is volunteering twice, Since Writer Chick is an extrovert, this triple infusion of PEOPLEis a very, very good thing, and she will be full of energy to tackle the writing week ahead. She will also have some free space in her stationery storage, because she is doing a small cull of pens, notebooks, etc, that would be happier in new homes. I can’t promise she won’t come home with new stuff, if anybody else has the same idea.

It’s focus time

Another part of the reason Writer Chick is focusing well these days is that she has started a writing-only planner, with no other sutff allowed. More on that in the first Monday in February. There is also a bigger writing notebook, that is broken into sections, so Writer Chick can do a brain dump of what she’s going to write, before she writes it. After that, it’s a matter of following the map, plus she got to play with paper and pen, so that’s a plus. She also now keeps a written record of what she has blogged about, and when, which includes posts by yours truly.

No word count trackers as of yet, but, so far, setting task goals is turning out to work super well. The first round of edits on Chasing Prince Charming are on their way back to Editor Chick, and reading Other Writer Chick’s comments on the second chapter of Her Last First Kiss, is Writer Chick’s reward for helping me with this post. Though, let’s be real, quality time wiht me is reward enough, amirite?

Suffice it to say that the historical romance vibe is back, due to a few factors:

  1. Chasing Princ Charing.  Even though this is contemporary romance, it’s set in the world of historical romance, with a hero who is madly in love with the genre. Writer Chick also gets to write with Other Writer Chick, so this is double fun.
  2. Her Last First Kiss. This book is once again in motion. Talking about it builds momentum, which means Writer Chick wants to spend more time with it, so getting through draft two is actually fun.
  3. Proper reading and viewing diet. See the currently reading section above. Even though Fruits Basket is not historical, H assures Writer Chick that it is, at its heart, romance, and there are plenty of romances in it, so Writer Chick is well fed, there. Ditto on the romantic elements in Time and Agin, H assures her, and the old New York setting does not hurt one bit, either. Then there’s Heartless, which is most assuredly historical romance, in the Georgian era, and by Mary Balogh, who always delivers the emotional goods.
  4. Art. Since Writer Chick received some super fun art gifts for Christmas, she is making it a point to do more art herself, and show that art to other people. This will mostly be taking place on Instagram, so follow her there, if you want to see that kind of thing. Also tell her you want to see more pictures of a handsome orange badbutt fella.

That’s about it for this week. Writer Chick wants to get to those HLFK comments, so time for me to find a sunbeam. See you next week.

Peacce out.

Ingredients For Idea Soup

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The Christmas tree is not down yet, but it’s on the list. I have lost track of the amount of tea I have drunk today, and I am probably (definitely) not done with that, yet. I have my Irish fisherman blanket over my lap, and there is a fresh jar candle burning on the dining room table. Wassail Wishes, bout at deep discount, as the first candles of spring have arrived, to push my beloved winter scents into the clearance section. I am not ready for that, but, on the other hand, discounted candles. Life is full of tradeoffs.

Outside my window, the world looks like this:

waiting on promised precipitation…


I met with N this morning, our first time since before the holidays. Mr. N and I teased her with our love of the cold, gloomy weather (N is not a fan) while she declared her preference for sun. This is a familiar dance, and a lovely one. N and I brought each other up to date, on matters domestic, and writing-related, over bagel and tea for me, breakfast sandwich and coffee for her.

I showed her my new planner, the one that is writing-only, and new stuffings for both Big and Li’l Pink, mostly untouched, as I am waiting to see what I want to put in each of them. She showed me her multiple pages of computer printouts, described her desk-bound planner that lives at home, and we both took notes.

Then we talked shop. N asked how my stories are going, and I have to admit I like hearing her use that plural. It’s been a good writing/editing week. The connection to Her Last First Kiss is back in full force, which delights me, and makes time spent in Bern and Ruby’s world reshape itself, where a quick pop into a chapter to tweak this or that turns into a couple of hours, that pass in the span of what seems like minutes.

As always, N asked if I know what’s next, for historicals. As usual, I told her I don’t know yet. Right now, I am second drafting HLFK, and Melva and I are on the first round of edits for Chasing Prince Charming, at the same time we bring Drama King ever closer to the fifty percent mark. I’m not thinking about next historicals right now, at least until this current historical is at the end of draft number two.

Right now, as I told N, I am reading. I am gathering ingredients for idea soup. Ever since H gifted me the first two volumes of the Fruits Basket collectors’ editions, I have been tearing through those doorstopper sized collections at a dizzying rate. No spoilers, other than to say that this is not a tale for gentle readers, as the angst level is high, with curses and family loyalty, and secrets, and unlikely friendship, and forbidden love, and a lot of the things that I love to find in historical romance. That comes to mind frequently while I’m reading this, that “this would be amazing in a historical romance” flag that goes up, often when I least expect it.

That’s fitting, as I did not expect to be this invested in a manga. Maybe there are others I would like, also. Comments section is open for suggestions. H assured me that Our Herione gets her HEA, with one of two potential love interests (she refuses to tell me which one, and I have declined to speculate.) Other pairings, well, there are still lots of books ahead of me, so jury is still out on most of them, but I have cried, I have sighed, I have felt as though I’ve been punched in the gut, and I’ve gritted my teeth and hung on to slender, shimmering strands of hope. I do have a list, in progress, of historical romances that this series brings to mind, and will share that here, later.

I am also devouring YouTube videos at a surprising rate, and, last night, when the sandman confirmed that he would, indeed, not be visiting me at all, I crept from the bedroom and rescued my would-have-been-bujo that took an unexpected bath, and has now been promoted to art journal. With that and a fineliner, I crept back to bed, and diligently copied down the art supplies listed in these two videos by YouTuber/artist, Jordan Clark. I am in love with her aesthetic, magical and calm and a rather strong contrast to the heavy hitting of Fruits Basket, but, at the same time, it ticks a very similar reaction in my storybrain. No, I cannot explain it, but I am steering into the skid.

My Kindle currently holds Heartless, by Mary Balogh, the first in her Georgian duo, which I had read when it first came out, years ago. From my very first Mary Balogh (I don’t remember which Balogh was my first, but I wish that I did) I knew that I could count on her to hit me right in the feels, and this book is no exception. I don’t know what historical romance I will read next, when I am done with this one, but I know that it will be there when I need it.

That’s what I’m doing, while not writing or editing. Taking in inspiration, old friends, new friends, old friends, come again, all milling about, combining, no doubt, to make something new when they think I”m not looking. I am also grouping pink things together, as with my basket of sticky notes in today’s deskscape. Blush pink is best, but any shade is welcome. I am taking pictures, and making plans, and it all goes to fuel the whole writing of books thing, so I think I’ll stick with it.

What about you, dear readers? What are you into this month? Let me know in the comments section, especially if you have links to fascinating things.

Storytime: Growing Pains (not the tv show)

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Storytime. We have some growing pains going on around here, and I do not mean the TV show. On Friday night, Housemate and I went to Chain Craft Store for our weekly jaunt. I had a list in tow, because I am me, and the big item on that list was a personal size six-ring binder. Housemate, at the clearance section, asked me if the binder in her hand was something I could use. I took a look. It was this one:

Webster’s Pages, personal size ring binder


Not only the binder, but the entire kit, minus a few items, which probably explained why there was a Webster’s Pages binder, hanging out in clearance. No price on it, so I was leaning toward leaving it where it was, but Housemate wanted to take it up to the register and find out. Information never hurts, right? Okay, fine. We get to the register, and the cashier summons a manager. Manager gives binder a cursory look, and says she’ll let it go for one dollar. One. Dollar. That is obviously a sign. I do not have a name for this binder yet, but I did carry it around the house for a couple of days, to get to know it, and am now setting it up as my writing tracker, no household tasks allowed.

The as-yet unnamed binder joins Big and Li’l Pink, both traveler’s notebooks, from Webster’s Pages, and their jobs break down pretty much like this:


Big Pink: thinking on paper
Li’l Pink: lists and information
White Planner: writing/reading related only


:deep breath: Okay. All of that said, planner talk will now be confined to the first Monday of the month. It’s going in the schedule. Additional planner/bujo blog is in the planning stages. Until then, I will put my pen and paper pictures and ramblings thereabout, on my Instagram. I want to keep this blog focused on writing. I’m still deciding whether I want to have specific topics for Mondays and Wednesdays, but , as with the writing planner, I’m going to carry that question around for a while, and the answer will come when I need it.


As much as I love pens and paper, and I do really, really love them, this is my place to talk about writing, and, using the analogy of interests/passions being children, the baby really does need their own room, instead of bunking with the elder sibling. Siblings, really, as I am also working on the website for the books Melva and I write together. This is both a lot of work and a lot of fun. The more writing I do, these days, the more writing I want to do, and it’s the same with engaging on social media. I partly blame my YouTube binging for getting my bloggy idea hamsters all excited and running on their wheels, sometimes faster than I can write down things I want to do with them.

2018 was, in a lot of ways, a dumpster fire. 2019 looks to be better. Early days yet, but I”ll take it. This is the year of “yes, and,” after all. It’s easy to say “stop stressing.” even to myself, but anxiety and depression, and well, stress, often have other ideas about that. Sometimes, those can get in the way of the love of writing, or the ability to do it. That’s why I am making self care more of a priority in 2019, including making sure that I spend time doing the things I love. At the top of that list is romance. I have been wildly in love with the romance genre since I was eleven years old and stole my first historical romance from my mother’s nightstand. Coughty-cough years after that incident, the girl who loved reading books grew up into the woman who writes them. Reads them still, because story in, story out, is easy math.

This is all to say that there will be a few changes to this blog, and site, in the near future, all, I hope, for the best. I am talking with the fabulous Kathleen Underwood, who created the cover for my Orphans in the Storm, to help with graphics, and I could not be more excited. Kathleen perfectly captured the exact image I’d had in my mind, and brings me back, every time I see it, to that exact moment in Jonnet’s story. It reminds me of the power of fiction, and how much I love creating it. Planning is part of that, but the raw beauty of creating the story deserves a focus of its own.

What growing pains are you working through, this year?




Typing With Stuffed Paws: Planner Chaos, Writing Peace Edition

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Greetings, foolish mortals. Sebastian Thunderpaws Hart-Bowling, coming at you with all the stuff for the start of 2019. Well, where Writer Chick is concerned, that is. I can tell you, right off the bat, that part of that is going to involve a trip to the office supply store, because Writer Chick started off today’s session with placing the document holder thing that she uses to hold papers to transcribe, next to the desktop, instead of on top of it. Occupational hazard, around here, but, as a cat, I am proud of her. Knocking things off a flat surface…. ::dabs eyes: I’m getting a little misty here.

But enough about that. Writer Chick has been pretty hyped about starting the new year off on the right foot. Part of that was all about getting the right planning system in place. That is a story for her to tell, because it did not turn out the way she expected that it ight, but it did, in the end, get her to the right place. More on that after we take care of this week’s compulsories.

Well, do you?

As usual, Writer Chick was at Buried Under Romance, this past Saturday, and surprises nobody when she talked about making a reading plan for the coming year. Well, that’s not actually true. She did surprise herself. If you’d like to read more about that, hop on over here and find out what went down. The caption under the above picture works, too.

Starting the year off, right

Writer Chick is stepping up her reading game for 2019, and her new Goodreads challenge goal is set at ninety-five, which is five more than last year. She’s already one book down, which, seeing as how we are only four days into the new year, is not a bad start. Her friend, H, is already mailing her the third volume of Fruits Basket -only to borrow; H made that very clear- so Writer Chick will be pouncing on that the second it arrives at Stately Bowling Manor. Time and Again, which fits into the historical fiction with romantic elements (and also paranormal/fantasy, as there is time travel) is also on loan from H, who has a pretty good bead on the kinds of stories Writer Chick might not find for herself, but would love. This has inspired Writer Chick to look for books she can press upon H, in return. I will keep you abreast on how that goes.

Okay, now we get to the planner chaos and writing peace part of our post, today. There is a traditional Dutch proverb Writer Chick has long liked, that says “Man plans, God laughs.” That is kind of what happened here. Yesterday, Writer Chick took her newly moved-into Dylusions traveler’s notebook into the wide world, and…she did not like it. Well, she di, but as an art journal, not an everyday carry, so back to Big Pink, albeit with new inserts, it is. Li’l Pink as well, for easy toting. Then there is the writing tracker she threw together out of stuff she had hanging around.

Writer Chick loves that thing. Loves it. The only problem there, is that the binder, which she also loves, is literally falling apart. She tried holding it together with washi tape, which worked about as well as you can imagine, so that is another reason to go to the office supply store. It is also part of her assignment from Graphics Chick, and the whole making sure everything looks like it comes from the same person deal.

Because the binder Writer Chick is using for the writing tracker is falling apart in her hands, we can safely say that basically none of her plans about planning panned out as she intended. The writing, however? Well, that’s a different story. Pun intended. Writer Chick met all of her writing goals for the first week of 2019. She is back at work on Her Last First Kiss. Other Writer Chick said Writer Chick needs to stop making her cry (chapter one is heavy stuff.) This delighted Writer Chick, who said she cannot make that promise. Other Writer Chick hasn’t even met the hero yet.

The first third of edits on Chasing Prince Charming‘s first edit round have gone smoothly, and Writer Chick and Other Writer Chick expect to have everything turned in on time, if not before. Then the wait comes for round two. While they’re doing that, Drama King sails into its second quarter of draft one. Keeping track of who’s doing what, and when it needs to be done, so far, is working smoothly, and being accountable for specific tasks on solo works also seems to be in the plus column. Not a bad start, all things considered. Now, if Writer Chick can only get the printer to talk to the desktop, that would be incredibly useful.

Tomorrow, Writer Chick will meet with Graphics Chick, to toss around some ideas. She may also give connecting the printer another whack, or she may just whack the printer. There is a reason Writer Chick gravitates toward pen and paper, and, really, that’s best for all involved. Trust me on that one.

Peace out,

Becoming Persephone

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Happy New Year, everybody. 2018 is finally in the dust, and 2019 is ready to show us what it’s got. Hopefully good things. Though we are past the first of January, and the ornament harvest (family term for putting the Christmas décor to bed for the year) is slated for Twelfth Night (okay, the morning after Twelfth Night, so Thirteenth Morning? Is that a thing? I think it should be a thing, and have something like pancakes to soften the blow) my count of Christmas romances read, and Christmas movies watched remains the same as it was before December 25th. Zero. Oh well. I’ll get them next year.

My friend, H, gave me the first two volumes of Fruits Basket, collector’s editions. This was my first time reading manga, but a lot of the dynamics of my favorite historical romances lie within those pages, so I am well and truly into this story for the long haul. The rest of my Christmas/tucked away week reading went to The Summer Wives, by Beatriz Williams, and my feelings on this book, as with most by this author, can best be summed up with guh. Emotionally evisceration via fiction is a real thing, and, here, it is very, very, much welcome. So, that’s been my holiday 2018 reading.

As for 2018 holiday viewing, it was YouTube. All day, every day, or so it seemed. Most of my viewing fell into one of two camps; Book Tube, or stattionery/bullet journaling. In short, branding was huge on my mind, this season, especially as 2019 brings new adventures ahead. Melva and I are in the process of building our brand for our collaborative work, which of course makes me give what I’ve been doing with my own brand, a second look.

Both of these interests brought me to the same question: what sort of thing do I keep coming back to, again and again? I don’t recall where I read it first, probably on Facebook, but the text of the graphic was “Why choose between a girly and a dark aesthetic? If Persephone can be the goddess of springtime and queen of the underworld at the same time, so can you.” Yes. That. What that person said.

There were two things I noticed as I watched seemingly endless videos on the two subjects, looking for places I could twine them together. The first was that there are, to my knowledge, zero Book Tube channels about epic historical romance. Searching for historical romance on You Tube brings up a lot of fun vlogs about the current world of historiccal romance, which warms my historical romance loving heart. Deep inside that fire, though, there’ is a cranky flame (we might call it spotting a niche to be filled) that crackles with a desire to talk about some of the greats that came before, some of whom are still delivering the goods. So, there’s that.

The second thing I noticed was that I kept searching for stationery/bujo vloggers who had a certain aesthetic. No surprise, colors in the dusty rose/rose gold/ballet pink/blush family, combined with neutrals figure highly in this aesthetic. Once again, There Were Questions. What kinds of stories do I love the very, very most? Not merely what I like, but what leaves me wrung out like a wet washcloth, and happy about it? What sweeps me into its world and has me chomping at the bit to make some of that, myself?

In both cases, my next thought wasn’t “ugh, that looks hard” or “I don’t know if I can do that,” but “eh, give me a couple of pens and some paper, and I will figure it out.” That, I think, is part of taking myself seriously as a writer, and a creative being. That’s a journey that takes place one step at a time. Do I have an exact map to how this will mean gauranteed success every single time? Pffft, no. What I do know, though, is that, since i started my YouTube binge, I have been more focused on planning the actual work of writing, and have been consistentlyhitting my goals.

It’s an ongoing process. Yesterday, I opened the file for Her Last First Kiss, gave the first chapter a light spiff, and sent it in Melva’s general direction. Doing that had a similar feeling as setting up my new bujo system. Little different, but good different, still with the same feeling, even “me-er,” and …yeah. Let’s see where this takes us.


What new paths are you following in 2019?