goals

Why Did It Have to Be Selkies?

annabowling 2 Comments

When I was but a wee princess, my parents, or some well meaning family friend, gave me a book of folk tales of the British Isles. I. Loved. That. Book. I still have it, though it’s in storage right now, so I can’t refer to it, but, when I needed to pick a project to work on for July’s Camp NaNo, I landed on selkies.

Not literally. They probably wouldn’t like that very much, but, once the idea was there, it put down roots, so okay. At first, it was mermaids. There I was, on retreat with Skye, and I had my Jane Davenport Whimsical Girls book out, turned to a page with two female figures. I surveyed my color choices. The faces looked similar, so maybe two versions of the same woman? Realistic and fantasy, maybe? Human and mermaid? Ooh. What if they were half sisters?

I whipped out the appropriate medium, and let my brain do its own thing while I swooped color across the page. By itself, the story formed. It’s a historical romance, first and foremost, (not between the sisters) with some familial conflict, and it doesn’t feel so much “paranormal” as one side of the family happens to be selkies. I was thinking mermaids at first, but there is the mermaid problem, Namely, how to put this gracefully, have intimate mermaid/human relations. This would be essential, so a quick bit of searching on aforementioned folklore of the British Isles was in order.

Which brings me to the selkie problem. Not the same as the mermaid problem, because selkies seem to have it easier in the human relations department. Shed seal skin, have human form. Sorted. Selkies, in many stories, become involved with humans, reproduce, and sometimes go back to the sea. Whether or not they can take their special friend with them varies, and I’m good with that. Works out rather well for what my story people want to do, and gave me a moment of clarity on why sting named one of his albums Soul Cages.

What, exactly, you might ask, is the selkie problem? For this gal, it’s names. Naming a character is an important part of the process, and, frequently, for me, it’s more a matter of them telling me what their names are. They won’t answer to anything else. I still have an outline draft with a hero who didn’t even know his own name until the very last chapter. (I am definitely going back to that one, someday,.) What the heck does one name a selkie? What do selkies, or, in a more broader scope, mythical/legendary creatures call themselves?

Thankfully, I neglected to officially sign up for July’s Camp NaNo, so I am doing it unofficially, with my goal to figure out this whole story, and what the heck I am doing even thinking about it, because I am not a paranormal writer, and the last time I ventured into that realm, my life fell apart, and I ended up ugly crying during a critique group (that had only positive comments, by the way) in the middle of a coffee house. The ugly crying incident had nothing to do with  me moving to a different state, but it does give me a sense of security that I never have to face that barista again.

This is the part of the process where I start writing down what I know about the story, telling it to myself. Kind of folktale-y, definitely historical romance, flying into the mist sort of thing. At the same time, Melva and I are thisclose to getting Chasing Prince Charming back to the editor who invited us to revise and resubmit, then will turn our attention back to Drama King. On my own, N is not letting me squiggle out of getting back in the saddle for Her Last First Kiss  so there is no lack of things to do. So, why toss another project into the mix? \

Good question. The best answer I have at this moment is “because I can.” Consider it the writing equivalent of physical/occupational therapy. I’m glad I did my May Camp Nano the way I did, and it is still simmering, goal met, so I can figure out exactly how my couple solves their problem. What is it that makes my heroine know what she has to do? I don’t know that yet, but it will come, and likely when I am slipping into a sealskin and taking it out for a spin.

In the meantime, hit me with selkie names. I’ll take anything.

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Typing With Wet Claws: The Heat Is On Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, coming to you from Camp Grandma, for another Feline Friday. Life is still getting back to normal at the For-Now apartment, after Anty returned from retreat. The fact that there are two blogs tis week from me, and none from her may give you an idea of how things are going. Do not worry, though. Anty is busy doing writing things. She and Anty Melva are two scenes and Anty’s okay of the revised final draft of Chasing Prince Charming away from sending it back to the editor human, for another look. Anty plans to return to regular blogging this coming week, heat wave permitting.

Anty does not do very well when it Is very hot, so she will spend as much of that heat wave time as possible, indoors. Good thing for her that indoors is the perfect place to do a lot of writing, especially since Camp NaNo is starting in July, which begins on Sunday. This morning, Anty remembered that she had not signed up for Camp NaNo yet, and is still debating whether she will, but she is setting herself a goal for July, of outlining the whole story idea that he got while on her retreat with me. The whole thing. In July. No wandering off and forgetting about anything. I will keep you all posted.

Since this post is the secon in one week, and it is actually covering two weeks, it will be a little different than the usual post. Please pardon our dust. The fur tumbleweeds are my sheds. They are an occupational hazard of having a Maine Coon around. Shedding: it’s what we do. What anty does (did you like my smooth segue?) is write, and here are the places on the interwebs (besides here) that you can find Anty’s writing  this week:

As always, Anty was at Buried Under Romance for the past two Saturdays. You get one guess where she will be on this coming Saturday. Did you guess Buried Under Romance? If so, you are very smart. The last two weeks were here, and here, Since Anty accidentally deleted the images for those posts, instead, I will give you the image for her upcoming post. What do you think she will be talking about this coming week? Visit BuriedUnderRomance.Com on Saturday morning, after seven, to find out.

 

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Whatever could this mean?

This is the part of the post where I tell you how Anty is doing on her Goodreads challenge. If you would like to follow her on that, click the link above, or come back here each week for continuing updates. Because things have been crazy over here, Anty has not always been able to record everything as soon as she would like to, so that means, sometimes, that things fall through the cracks. Keeping current with her Goodreads challenge is one of those things. That means we are still crunching some numbers here, and we are burning daylight on the time we have for this blog post, so I will hit you with the stats so far (that is a figure of speech. I will not really hit you. That would be mean, especially because I have claws.) and feature two of Anty’s favorite reads from the past two weeks.

As of right now, Anty has read fifty-two out of ninety books. That puts her at fifty-eight percent of the way to her goal, and eight books ahead of schedule. Very good job, Anty. Keep at it. Maybe add some more historical romances to the mix. Maybe some older titles or indie releases. There is a lot out there.

Two of Anty’s favorites for the past two weeks have been:

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The Art of Inheriting Secrets           Barbara O’Neal

 

Even though neither of these two books is a genre romance novel, both have love stories in them, that end happily/optimistically, and one even has a secondary love story that looks tragic, but, by the end, maybe it is not. Miss Barbara’s book has some strong historical elements in its modern day story, which is not surprising, because Miss Barbara also writes historical romance. Anty would be very, very happy if Miss Barbara wrote historical romances connected to this book. That is a hint, Miss Barbara, thankyouplease.

In the meantime, Anty has plenty to read, especially now that Mama taught her how to use Overdrive. I think Mama may have created a monster. I do not mind, though, because that means Anty will have plenty to read, the next time she comes to visit me. Umcle says fall looks good for Forever Apartment time, and we are working towards that. I do not know what all Anty and Uncle and Mama are going to bring to Forever Apartment, when we get it, but I know that it will not be the bed that Mama put together for Anty and Uncle before Anty’s retreat. I am told it looked very nice, and was safe for Anty and Uncle the very first night, but, when Anty came home from retreat, this is what she found:

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No kitties were harmed In any of this, but Uncle was in the bed, by himself, when it stopped being a bed. Uncle says that was not fun. He had some bruises but was otherwise okay. Guess the humans are getting the old bed out of storage, after all, but not during the heat wave.

Heat wave time is for sticking close to fans or air conditioning, and writing stuff. Some people have encouraged Anty to go ahead with the pen and paper related blog, and she is thinking hard about that, but writing books has to come first.

That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,

SkyeByeTemp

 

 

 

 

 

Typing With Wet Claws: Post-Retreat Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for a very special Maine Coon Monday. If you are wondering where I was for Feline Friday this past week, (besides Camp Grandma, of course) I was in time out. I have never been in time out before, so that was a new experience, but more about that later.

Anty and I have had an eventful retreat, and I am here to give the cat’s eye view of what went down. Besides Anty, that is. She pretty much slept the whole first day, which was really the first afternoon, because Mama and Grandma did not leave until after lunch. I did not mind. In fact, I took advantage of Anty’s nap, to sneak in a ninja cuddle. That is when there is a human asleep on the floor (it does not happen very often, because humans generally sleep on furniture, but Anty was really tired)  and I sneak over and lie down so close that we are touching. If they wake, then I get startled and run away, then come back. This time, I did not run away, but Anty only  kind of halfway woke, and gave me head scritches, so I I would say that worked out pretty well. I snuck in a few more ninja cuddles, because I am smart like that.

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Anty’s Plan

This picture shows Anty’s plan for the week. Since Camp Grandma does not have interwebs, Anty could not be distracted by things like Facebook and Netflix and games. As it turned out, that plan worked pretty well. Anty read three whole books over the four days of retreat (not the one pictured, but I will give a full rundown of all books read, on my regular Friday post) and wrote a total of twenty eight regular notebook sized pages. That is to say, not the mini legal pads she had intended to use (but she will use those soon enough; Anty loves mini legal pads. Also the big ones, but they have to be pretty.) She also did not use those particular pens, but she did use all of the ink that had been in four of her previous travel ballpoints, so she really did need new pens. Add in morning pages (always three) and evening pages (not every night, but most of them) and what do you think happened?

What happened was that, when Anty wasn’t even thinking about it, bloop, there was the idea for her next Camp NaNo story. The one from May is still cooking. Anty did a lot of brain dumping, and then, bloop. She’s off and running. Since one of the days of retreat, Anty had lunch with Anty Melva, they got to talk about Chasing Prince Charming, and only have a couple of things to do, before they can send the book back to the editor for another look. They also talked about things they want to do for Drama King, and, when things calm down in their personal lives, about a nonfiction project they think would be fun.

Besides the books with Anty Melva, Anty’s main focus is to get the second draft of Her Last First Kiss ready to roll. I will let Anty tell you about what she plans for the Camp NaNo story, but it is both a nice change of pace, and going back to her roots, so it should be fun. Anty likes to stay busy writing, so writing time is now officially a priority.  Part of that involved setting up the desktop computer when she got back from retreat. Right now, it is not on a desk, but on a TV tray. The CPU is on top of a filing cabinet (Anty is still looking for pretty hanging folders for that cabinet, so if you know where to find some, drop a link in the comment box.) So far, so good. Writing on the desktop is much easier than on the laptop or phone.

The rest of it is really Anty’s to tell, but you are probably wondering why I did not post on Feline Friday (apart from the fact that it was Anty’s travel day.)  Anty says that I am still a very good kitty, and would like to point out that I have never, in my entire life, gone after people food, before I went to camp. During the retreat, I went for people food, twice. The first time, Anty took the sandwich away from me before I could actually put my face on it, but the second time, she left her rice cake with peanut butter on it, where I could get it, and, well, I got it. Anty chased ne away from the dish and reminded me that I am a kitty and am not supposed to eat people food. Grandma’s house, Grandma’s rules, though, right? Anty took the rice cake away, but I kept licking the peanut butter from my mouth. I can see why she likes peanut butter as much as she does.

The other thing that capped my time out was the jailbreak. Anty had slept on the couch, and came to my room to give me breakfast, but – plot twist- I was not in my room. The door was open. I was in the room across the carpeted hall, where I had, um, made some stuff.  Anty put me back in my room, then cleaned up the stuff. Speaking of which, Grandma and I have reached an accord on the stuff place business, which is a relief to everybody. Pun intended.

That is about it for this week, so, until our next, regularly scheduled meeting, I remain very truly yours,

SkyeByeTemp

Typing With Wet Claws: Retreat Preparations Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday, from Camp Grandma. This upcoming week will be an exciting one, because when the Grandma’s away, the kitty will play…with Anty! Mama is taking Grandma to visit with some friends, and so Anty will come and stay with me, while they are gone. We are not quite ready for Forever Apartment, but I have missed having Anty every day, so this is the next best thing. Anty is calling it a “retreat,” because A) she will be away from home, B) Grandma does not have interwebs, so Anty cannot be distracted by things like Facebook and TV Tropes, and  that kind of thing. More on that later.

The rule of Anty letting me blog for her on Fridays, is that I need to talk about Anty’s writing, before I can talk about anything else (though it is usually Anty’s writing, anyway) so I will do that now. As usual, Anty was at Buried Under Romance, this past Saturday, talking about wedding season. In romance novels, that is every season. That post is here, and it looks like this:

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Anty also writes quite a bit about the books she has read, so I will now check in on Anty’s Goodreads Challenge.   .  Anty is doing very well this week. At forty-two books read, out of ninety, sbe is forty-seven percent of the way to her goal, and two books ahead of schedule. This week, she read three books, with one of them historical romance. Keep going, Anty. You are doing grate. Um, great. Here are the books Anty read this week:

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All Of This Is True, by Lygia Kay Penaflor

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Whimsical Girls, by Jane Davenport

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Winter’s Heat, by Denise Domning

Domning Nation will continue during the retreat, as Anty has all of Miss Denise’s books in the Graistan series on her Kindle. Anty is also bringing Miss Jane’s book, and some art supplies, largely from Miss Jane’s line, with her on the retreat. I highly approve of this, as I very much like watching Anty both read and make art. I have heard that other kitties like to help their humans make art, but I prefer to watch. I prefer my fur to remain paint-free. If Anty has movies on her laptop, or if she can bring the portable DVD player, then she can sit on the floor with me, and we can watch movies together. Maybe she will even find a way to download that classic suspense film, Koi In Their Winter Tank. I still do not know where Orange Fishy goes I thought for sure it was behind the computer, but no. This bears multiple re-watchings.

This past Tuesday, Anty and Miss N had their usual weekly breakfast and writing talk together, although it turned into a special day, because Uncle had to go to the people vet yet again, and then that people vet sent him to a smarter people vet, who knows human paws better than regular people vets do. Smarter People Vet told Uncle to come back next week, so they can look even closer at what is making his paws hurt. Anty cannot go with him, because she will be with me, so we will both have to send our love beams remotely. I will show Anty how.

In case any of you are worried that Anty will be too lonely for human company during her retreat, there is no need. She and Anty Melva will spend some time together, so that they can work on the changes needed for Chasing Prince Charming, and get that off to the publisher who wants to look at it again, as soon as possible. Tben, they can get back to working on Drama King, which they both think is marvelous fun. I like it because there is an important character in that book, who is a kitty. Can I have a book boyfriend, even though I am fixed? (#TeamClawed) Uncle is still the love of my life, though. He is my favorite, and I love him the most. Anty says that Uncle will make me a new movie, for this visit, and we can watch it any time I want. I hope she will remember she said that, if I wake her in the middle of the night so we can watch it. Because I will.

Anty tells me not to expect too much on the first day of the retreat, because she is probably going to sleep for most of it. Um, Anty. I am a kitty. I will never criticize anybody for taking a lot of naps. There will be reading along with the sleeping, though I do not know how much of either. We will see when Anty gets here. The main part of the retreat, once Anty has a few feet of water in her well, is for Anty to jump back into writing historical romance again. Sometimes, a writer needs to reconnect with their genre, and that is what Anty is hoping to accomplish with this retreat.

It has been a crazy few months, and camp will probably last until September, but that is when Anty’s  super powers come back, so maybe that is good timing. In the meantime, I plan to get a whole lot of mew-sing done on this retreat, so I can send Anty back to For-Now Apartment, ready to get some historical romance out there.

That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,

SkyeByeTemp

An Unexpected Writing Retreat Appears

annabowling 3 Comments

Funny how things work in the writing life. I will skip over the family life details and get right to the pertinent part. This upcoming week, I get an unexpected writing retreat, as I get to join Skye at Camp Grandma for the better part of next week. One interesting thing about Camp Grandma is that it does not have internet, so I will be mostly off the grid for days at a time. Oddly enough, my first concern was for the pets in my Sims Free Play game, but I will be connecting with at least one friend in the area, for lunch and an internet fix, so cyberpets should be fine, while I focus on the in-person, fuzzy one.

Though time away from Real Life Romance Hero has not been high on my list (especially when there is people vet tie involved) the idea of time spent with my story people, without the  lure of Facebook, Google, and all the rest, is pretty exciting. Not going to lie, the first day will likely be spent taking cat naps near an actual cat, and I am bringing a good supply of books, art supplies, and the charger for my Kindle, because part of this retreat is going to be one heck of a well-filling session. I need it. I have been in the empty, and I have been in whatever it is that lie beneath the empty. Not every day, but there have been some doozies, and the prospect of hanging out with my mews and concentrating on nothing but sending stuff down to the girls in the basement, so they can play with books and movies and sparkly pens and pretty papers and all that, then send some good story stuff back up to me.

Laptop and lap desk are coming, too, as are notebooks and pens, and at least one legal pad. Yes, there will be lists and bujo spreads about what I want to bring on this retreat, because this will not be the only such instance in my lifetime. Retreats won’t always mean Camp Grandma (especially when we are in Forever Apartment, and Skye is with us every day) but the thought of a whole chunk of days, where there is nothing to do but concentrate on story, both the writing and reading of same, that’s too good to keep to a one time deal.

I have never been on a “real” writer’s retreat, as in pay money, go to lovely, picturesque place in the mountains/by the shore/etc, where there are other writers for socialization, brainstorming, and talking about the writing life. Not that I am opposed to that kind of thing, but, as of yet, that has not been possible. On the other hand, the last time I went on this sort of retreat, I apartment/dogsat for musician friends, and, at their kitchen table, two rescue dogs standing by, I wrote what would be the beginnings of Orphans in the Storm.There’s a precedent here, and I like that.

Being an extrovert, the internet is great. A whole world of people, only keystrokes away, 24/7, and special groups for people who like things I like? Godsend. Also distraction. I’ve been thinking about trimming down my Facebook feed, to cut down on extraneous noise. Once again, it’s clean slate, more layers, and I am looking forward to that. I don’t have page count goals (but let’s say more than two) or concrete plans on what scene in what project will get the bulk of my writing focus, but the thing I do know is that there will be something. There will be fiction.

Over the last few months, with the move, and some health challenges for RLRH, and assorted happenings, I have done a lot of free writing in various notebooks, in various places. Laundromats, motel rooms, friends’ apartments, fast food places and coffee shops, waiting rooms (oh so many waiting rooms) and, as much as I am grateful for those times, and all the pages I have filled with the stuff inside my head, fiction is still my first love Especially romance .Especially historical. That has taken a back seat to other concerns, but, when I first knew this retreat was going to happen, my heart skipped.

Yes This. Take in some good stuff. Put some good stuff back out. Play with the kitty. Nap on the sofa. Hang out with a writer friend, when there is no time one of us has to dash off and handle domestic concerns. A few days is a good stretch of time. Respite. Palate cleanse. Catch breath. Gain strength. Regain sea legs, as it were. Try new things, and revisit old loves, to give them new life. Let them give me new life, in return.

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Typing With Wet Claws: Grandma is a Snitch Edition

annabowling 1 Comment

Hello, all. Skye here, bringing you yet another Feline Friday, straight from Camp Grandma. Grandma and I are getting along okay, but she is no Uncle, and there is the small matter of her calling the v-e-t on me ( do not worry, I am okay) so I will be glad when Forever Apartment becomes available. More on that later.

Even though I am at camp, I still have to talk about Anty’s writing before I can talk about anything else. First, as always, Anty was at Buried Under Romance on Saturday, talking about the surprise shut-down of RT Book Reviews magazine and associated ventures. I have heard that the magazine was very nice to lie on, so I am sure many kitties will miss it. That post is here, and it looks like this:

http://www.buriedunderromance.com/2018/05/saturday-discussion-hail-and-farewell-romantic-times.html

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As you can see, remote blogging has a bit of a learning curve, but a good mews never lets a little thing like distance to get in their way. Next week, Anty will come and visit me when she speaks to Charter Oak Romance Writers. Anty and I are both looking forward to that. Uncle has to work, so he cannot come, but Anty will bring me something that smells like him, which is a good consolation prize. I will probably send her back with some shed fur, and maybe a whisker I am done using. A mews has to do what a mews has to do.

One of those things is to cheer Anty on when she is doing the right thing. Besides submitting two pieces to an anthology that asked her to submit, she has also got some good news: she and Anty Melva will be presenting their workshop, Writing Through The Tears, also known as Save The Writer, Save the Book, at CT Fiction Fest in September. For more information, and maybe to guess the workshops Anty hopes most are not opposite hers, visit the conference site here:

http://www.ctfictionfest.org/workshops.html

Anty has returned to her regular schedule of meetings with fellow writer humans, which feels very good, after that whole moving interruption. The interwebs connection here is much better, so Anty got to have her whole conversation with Anty Melva without weak signals or anything. That was exciting, even if Anty did have to carry on her end of the conversation from the edge of the bathtub.

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That is how Anty has to set up the laptop so that Anty Melva can talk to Anty’s face instead of her, umm, shirt, but writers, like their mewses, do what they must.  Also, Sebastian tells me it is very echoey in the For-Now apartment, so going into a different room is probably the best way to go.

Although I am still working out how to link Anty’s Goodreads challenge in this whole remote business, I can let you know that she is currently 41% of the way to her goal, with 37 out of 90 books read. She may have read more, but I will have Sebastian run the numbers later. Her two most recent reads were both historical romance:

Lady in White , by Denise Domning

And

The Prince of Midnight, by Laura Kinsale

I will have Sebastian add the links later, as those are tricky to do here at camp. It looks like DomningNation is a go, because, now, Anty is reading Winter’s Heat, also by Miss Denise, and she has all of the four books that come after it already on hrr Kindle, plus some other books by Miss Denise, so Anty is all set on that front.

This weekend, Anty and Mama hope to get Anty’s desktop out of storage, so nobody has to listen to Anty’s whining about….umm, I mean Anty will have an easier time doing her work. That will also let Anty play her games again. A gaming Anty is a happy Anty, and it might help her to miss me less if she could make a Sim version of me to keep her Simself company. We will see how that goes. This coming week is for Anty bringing herself up to date on her current projects, and that is much easier on a desktop computer.

In case you were wondering about the whole Grandma being a snitch thing, I should mention that Grandma and I have had a difference of opinion as to where I should do my, um, stuff. Grandma was worried that I was not making stuff at all (I totally was) so she called the local vet, who was my old vet, before we moved, and told her I had not made any stuff since I started camp. I am eating and drinking fine (Grandma gets a A+ on water bowl replenishment) so the vet told Grandma that I am not sick, just in a strange place, and want to be sure I am safe. Anty or Mama will probably find my stuff spot right away, and let Grandma know where I want my stuff spot to be. Mama also rold Grandma to talk to her before any vets (the vet could not see me, anyway, without Mama’s permission) and that I am fine. Not exactly happy, but fine.

Uncle is doing much better after his own stay at the people vet, and, apart from me being at camp, things are pretty good. The humans are moving things into For-Now apartment on an as needed basis, which Sebastian says makes for some interesting arrangements as they figure out what is a need-need and what would be nice.

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Of course, getting me home is the biggest need, but, in the meantime, Sebastian is doing a pretty good job of providing a facsimile of a feline presence. That window is his favorite spot. I remain, even at camp, a floor girl .

That is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling

(The kitty, not the book)

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Packing In Reverse

annabowling Leave a comment

Yesterday, I submitted two pieces of writing. Though it hasn’t been that long since my last gig, hitting that “submit” button felt a lot like I was doing so for the very first time. It wasn’t, of course. Four books, a whole lot of blog posts for various sites, both my own and otherwise, and, still, the stomach butterfly ballet was in fine form.

First submission in the new apartment, though, which is certainly something. Tonight, I will have my first Skype meeting from the new apartment, to talk with my contemporary co-writer, and co-presenter of our Save the Writer, Save the Book, Melva Michaelian, about how we’re going to handle the presentation to Charter Oak Romance Writers, and, beyond that, how we want to approach the same workshop at Connecticut Fiction Fest, this fall. We’ll probably touch on Chasing Prince Charming and Drama King, as well, because A) we are us, and B) as with the whole submission thing, coming back after a time away is both exciting, and a little scary.

On Wednesday, I will meet with N, and we will look at what it takes to get to The End. Draft two of Her Last First Kiss for me, and a new draft of a paramormal YA for her. Maybe other projects as well, but we have each declared our focus, and will hold each other to that.

When I first started packing the old office, I put all of the paper I needed for HLFK in one box. This past Saturday, I busted it out of storage and brought it home. Right now, my “desk” is a TV tray, my office chair, a folding chair. I can get the whole stripped down aesthetic, and I even appreciate that I have, on the desk/table front, come full circle, back to writing on a TV tray, in a quiet house, when the rest of the family is out.

Now that we are in the home stretch to the end of our first month here, it’s time to recalibrate and find the new normal. That’s easier said than done, and pretty much the writing version of taking the first step into a new apartment on moving-in day. By itself, the statement a blank slate makes is not a strong one, but it can be intimidating. Where to start is an important consideration, but it’s too easy to become overwhelmed by what goes where.

In this apartment, I don’t have a dedicated office, unless I claim the postage stamp sized “storage” room that also holds the water heater. That’s going to require some changing around of longstanding habits. While I will be rescuing my desktop computer (and printer) from storage  hopefully this week, it will still ( probably) be set up on the TV tray, I am currently doing most computing on my phone. New writing works best in longhand, which has not changed one bit, from one home to the next. The transition from one way of doing things, to a new way of doing things isn’t always smooth.

Right now, the books I have in this apartment are either e-books, or belong to the library. No spinning the chair around, to  brush fingers over old favorites. No RT magazine back issues (or RT, period, alas) to pet, or flip through for inspiration. It kind of feels like moving into a college dorm. It’s temporary, as we are looking dor a pet-friendly forever home, but, while we’re here, we need to focus, not on what has always been, or how things are, or how things are going to be in the fututre. Time to, as with the rest of the moving process, do the thing that is in front of me. Write the blog post.  Go over notes for the Skype chat, and put the HLFK materials in the right order. Read through the manuscripts to date, and make notes on what needs more attention.

Falling in love with the stories again, that part is easy, and it’s also hard. It’s hard because it means acknowledging that there has been time away, and the books and I do need to get reacquainted. This means mornings over endless cups of tea, reading through handwritten pages, taking apart the binder I constructed, because I constructed it in the wrong way, the way it “should” go, instead of the way that works for me.

I may be a while before everything is back on an even keel, but that’s to be expected. This is packing, in reverse. Taking the stuff, both literal and figurative, out of where I’ve stashed it, and see where it belongs now

Typing With Wet Claws: Tales From the Air Mattress Edition

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Hello, all Skye here, coming to you remotely from Camp Grandma, for another Feline Friday.  Please note that the title of this week’s blog is spelled t-a-l-e-s, because those of us who have actual tails, also have actual claws, and claws and air mattresses are not the best of friends. Also, I am at Camp Grandma right now, and the humans and their air mattresses are in the for-now apartment. I like Grandma okay, especially when she feeds me, but I will be very happy when we get Forever Apartment, and we can all be together, all of the time. Anty misses me a lot, and the feeling is mutual.

Tomorrow would normally be the day that Mama would come and visit me at Camp Grandma, and take pictures of me (Anty makes her; last time, Mama even took a movie of me, which went over extremely well with Anty and Uncle) but I will have to wait one more week, because tomorrow is also the day Anty and Mama get the rest of their things out of Mr. D’s house, and, maybe, get some furniture into the For-Now Apartment. Right now, what they have is a couple of air mattresses, one folding chair (for Uncle, more on that later) and Anty’s armrest pillow, that she shoves in a corner, so she can use her laptop, which she busted out of storage this week. She hopes to get her desktop, and her desk, or a reasonable facsimile, out of storage, as well, because she has some writing to do. This brings us kind of on track, to talk about Anty’s actual writing.

Before I get too much farther, I would like to say hello to all  of our new readers. It is very nice to have you here. The way things work, normally, is that Anty will post on Mondays and Wednesdays, and I post on Fridays. Sometimes, life gets interesting, and things are different, but that is the regular plan Speaking of regular, Anty was indeed at Buried Under Romance, this past Saturday, talking about reading in the calm after the storm. That post is here, and it looks like this;

BURreadubgafter

The image in the picture above is the library Anty goes to most, and where she and Mama had to go, to get interwebs, until they got it installed at the For-Now Apartment. That was an adventure, because the human who lived there before them had done a few things differently, and the interwebs people had to send a human out to set everything right. I am just as glad I was at Camp Grandma for that one. Anty now has interwebs at home, and  can focus on getting back to business as usual.

As usual, I should say, as it gets around here, because, last week, Uncle had to go to the people vet, with an owie paw. He did not have to wear the cone of shame, but he did have to stay at the people vet for a few days, and take a lot of pills. I do not envy Anty, having to give them to him. especially when Anty has work to do. This week, Anty will be updating her Coming Soon section of this site, because she has some news. On June second, she will speak at Charter Oak Romance Writers, with the workshop she and Anty Melva created, “Save The Writer, Save the Book.” That is about writing through the tough times of life. Anty and Anty Melva both know a thing or two about that. There will also be more news about Anty and Anty Melva giving their workshop at another conference, as soon as Anty has specific details. She is pretty excited about that.

Sunday is the deadline for Anty to submit to the anthology that invited her, and she is kind of nervous about fitting that in, but the word count is low, and Miss N gave her a good pep talk. Miss N gives very good pep talks. What this anthology wants is a short piece that gives the flavor of Anty’s writing, and might inspire readers to go look for more things Anty has written. Anty is in favor of getting new readers, so she will have something to send off to them soon. It might get in under the wire, but it will get in; she is determined on that front. Okay, on several fronts, but this is, technically, a writing blog.

It is also, technically, a romance writing blog, because that is what Anty writes, and there have been some big doings in the romance genre over the last couple of weeks. Anty does not have much to say about Cockygate, and she is still thinking about her position on the state of the Golden Heart awards, but she does have a lot to say about the end of RT/Romantic Times, which came as a very big shock. Romantic Times (it will always be Romantic Times to Anty) has been a big part of Anty’s romance reading and romance writing life, and she is somewhat salty that it is now a sure thing she will never get a review in that magazine, but she also wants to bust part of her collection of back issues out of storage, and spend some time studying them. It is complicated, to say the least, but I will leave that for her to tell.

Now that the humans are settled, and Anty has at least her laptop on hand, we should be back to regular updates on Anty’s Goodreads challenge, and a deeper look at what she is reading these days, and why. Some of this, I may delegate to my assistant, Sebastian Catbutt Hart-Bowling, who is on the scene (and usually in the window) to keep an eye on the humans and make sure Anty is doing writing things. An author cannot be without a mews, after all, or at least a reasonable facsimile.

SebastianWindow18mei18

Okay, I think that is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain Very Truly Yours,

skyebyenew

 

 

 

Sheeeeee’s Baaaaack

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Or close enough to it. One week and two days ago, we landed in our new apartment, but there is still another move ahead of us. Though the ad that led us to our current apartment said this was a pet friendly location, that was a mistake, so Skye is staying with Housemate’s mother, while we wait for a place that will fit all four of us. We do not expect that to be long, but there is still the question of what to bring into our current abode, and what we want to leave in storage until we are settled-settled, and the adventure continues.

Right now, my desk is my lap desk, my chair is the floor, with an armrest pillow behind me, and a fluffy throw tossed in for good measure. My computer is my phone, desktop to follow, when A) I can find it in the packed to the gills storage unit, and B) I can also find my desk, or a reasonable substitute, in the same unit. What is not under lock and key, however, is the desire, and the need, to write.

Because my life would not be my life without Unexpected! Drama! I am ensconced in my writing corner, waiting for pest control to return and drop off their item, and, at the same time, keeping one eye, and one ear, on a recovering Real Life Romance Hero, sprung from the hospital the day before yesterday, after a four day stay to treat an unfortunate incident. He is responding well and already wants to get back to work. Same with me.

Yesterday, I had my first breakfast with N, since moving out of the old apartment. Most of that time, I spent staring in deer in the headlights mode, due to stress and exhaustion, interpersed with sucking down possibly the largest iced tea I have seen in real life. There was also a bagel involved, but the real meat of the matter was writing, and where we each wanted our focus to be, in this coming season.

We talked of unfinished manuscripts, what makes them that way, and the experience of looking at things we had written in our respective way-back-whens. Sometimes, it’s “hey, this is pretty good.” Sometimes, it’s, “what was I thinking?” Sometimes, it’s “I can do this better/differently now.” Sometimes, there are no words, and the sentiment can be ezpressed only by pulling a sweatshirt hood over one’s head, and puling the drawstring,so that one’s face is comletely consumed by said hood, with possibly only the nose tip even visual to the casual observer.

We talked of how, sometimes, it isn’t possible to go back to a particular project, because we aren’t that person anymore, or we are no longer that writer. We did not speak of projects we mourn, but I have some, and I am sure she has some. I am even surer we are not alone in that, and that adds some substance to the feeling that we are in this together. (Inclusive we, for those keepng track of this sort of thing.)

There are days left, now, until the deadline for an anthology that asked me to submit to them, and, as I told N, at this point, I have no idea what I am going to send. The word count is low — a little more than flash fiction- and the fact that they found me bodes in my favor, so it’s as good a place as any to climb back on the metaphorical horse.

I have been writing, in the interim. Morning pages first thing (or as near to first as I can manage,) Camp NaNo pages, for the win that I needed that badly, and many, many btain dumps in between. A couple of nights ago, I started a bedside brain dump book; evening pages, if you will, as “bed,” right now, is an air mattress. So far, it mostly has notes on my experience of reading two different Laura Kinsale novels at the same time (no complaints) and what this kind of reading does to me (only good thngs) and how I want writing to go in this new phase of life.

I have a new neighborhood to explore, and, in the not too distant future, another one still. I have not been to the park across the way yet, or the corner bodega, but I know two ways to get to the Rite-Aid, and have already got on the wrong bus once, which led me to the right bus, so maybe it was not wrong after all.

While the desk and desktop and related accoutrements may still be in a holding pattern, the essentials are, at last, in place. Something to write with, something to write on, and smeone to write it, aka me. Feels good to be home.

Typing With Wet Claws: Camp Grandma Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for a very special Feline Friday. It is special, because, this week, I am coming to you remotely, from Mama’s Mama’s house. That is because, while the day to move into the new apartment finally came, Uncle learned that the new apartment was not, in fact, pet friendly. That was not news anybody wanted to hear (especially me, because I am the pet) but that does not mean we are apart forever. The humans are looking into some pet-friendly apartments that will be ready very soon, and, in the meantime, I get to stay at Camp Grandma, and carry out my mews duties from there.
So that my humans are not entierly kitty-less while they are in the for-now apartment, I have deputized Sebastian, who is a stuffed kitty. For those who are parsing the semantics, I mean that Sebastian has always been stuffed, not that he was once a real kitty, who stopped being a real kitty, and then got stuffed. That would not work in this situation. The upside of having Sebastian around is that, now, the humans have a kitty they can cuddle, even after we are all together in Forever Apartmen. Spoiler I will still be a lloor girl in Forever Apartment, so Sebastian better get used to being the cuddle kitty.
For-Now Apartment will be getting interwebs in the next few days, which will make Anty very happy, and allow her to resume her regularly scheduled blogging, and allow me (or Sebastian I may let him do the paws on stuff, since my only job at Camp Grandma is to stay on the floor, be fluffy, and eat what Grandma puts in my dishes) to keep you all up to date on where to find Anty’s writing, and on her reading challenges, so those things will be back soon. One of us will also update the coming soon section, because there is news there, as well.
On June second, Anty and Anty Melva will be presenting their “Save the Author, Save the Book” workshop, which is about self care for writers during the interesting surprises of life. Trust me, they know whereof they speak, and it is very easy for each of them to make the other laugh, so, if you are in the area on that day, consider dropping by and joining in on the fun. There will be funny stories and encouragement, and, hopefully, some useful tools.
Now that Camp NaNo is over, I am happy to report that Anty reached her goal of writing fifty pages by hand , and doe not hate writing, her story, or herself. This is progress. Go, Anty. She is letting those pages sit for a while, and deciding if she wants to continue with the same story for the next Camp NaNo session, or use that time for soemthing else. She has some time to figure that all out, and she will probably consult with Miss N, when they resume their Tuesday morning breakfasts this coming week. Because it is pretty much summer, they will move their meeting time to summer hours, one hour later.
Anty has been asked to submit to an upcoming anthology featuring New York writers. The I human who asked Anty to submit, found Anty though this blog, and asked Anty to send in writing, because the other human liked what they read. There is a deadline, so now Anty is woking on what she would like to send them. If they like what they see, and want to include Anty, then I will keep you all posted about the details. If they would rather pass, then Anty will probably ask me to pretend this didn’t happen, and never speak of it again.

This week, Anty plans to get back into the swing of actual writing. Most of the furniture will come into the For-Now Apartment this coming Saturday (that is, next week, not tomorrow) and, then, Anty will set up her desk, and see what kind of routine she can fit into the new daily schedule. On Tuesday, she and Miss N will review Her Last Fist Kss (partdon the lack of italics) and get Anty back on track to a completed second draft..
That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,
Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling (the kitty, not the book)