Typing With Wet Paws: Unauthorized Changes Edition

Tails Up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. It is super cold here in NY today, so the humans are having a hibernation day. I am fine with that, because it means many cuddles, scritches and belly rubs. Aunt Linda made somebody hunt pizza and bring it to us (I, of course, had cat food) and Mama Anna suggested I might think about posting. Since she asked nicely, okay.

I’m not mad. This is just my face.

Okay, maybe I’m a little mad. Cats are notorious for not liking change, and there are changes going on around here. The bed, for one thing. For as long as we have been here, Papa slept closest to the door, Mama Anna on the other part of the bed, and then me on top of or next to her, depending on my mood. Sometimes between the two of them. Since Papa had to go to Rainbow Bridge, this has meant Things Are Different.

I will start with the best part; my big cat bed is now on the people bed. It started out on Papa’s side, but due to structural issues with the bedframe, Mama Anna switched sides. Now she sleeps where Papa did, and my bed is on the side where she used to be. If that weren’t enough, the humans are talking to the dog dad across the hall, aka Maintenance Dude, about getting rid of the old bed, after which there is a new bed to set up, in a different location than the current bed. My big cat bed will be on Mama Anna’s bed when the new bed is here, so I guess that is okay.

In case you missed the last blog Mama Anna posted, Drama King is here, and yes, there is a cat in it. His name is Clawed (that exact spelling) and he is an orange boy, with strong opinions on sharing (he is not a fan.) He is not on the cover, but he is important. I was the sensitivity reader for cat-ness on this one, so I give it four paws up. Good job, Mama Anna and Aunt Melva. Shout out to my play cousins, Murphy and Ollie. They are boy cats, so they helped with the boy cat part.

If you read the book and liked it, consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. That helps the authors a lot (including but not limited to purchasing more cat treats.) A review can be as easy as “I liked it,” or “good book” or “the cat was my favorite part; the next one should have a calico girl and/or tuxedo boys.” All three of us felines are hard at work helping our humans with the next books. Do you like books with pets in them? Let us know in the comments, to keep in mind for future books.

One more thing. Some humans have asked if they have to read Chasing Prince Charming before Drama King, and the answer is no. Of course the authors hope that you will, but if Drama King is your first Love by the Book story, that is okay too.

Okay, that’s it for this week, apart from another picture of me. Cat pictures are always a good thing.

making the weighted blanket weight-ier

How was your week?

This is How You Walk On

February is going to be different this year. February means Valentine’s Day, which, as a romance author and reader, is kind of a big thing. This year, though, I am also a recent widow, (still getting used to saying that) so that gives the day a whole new light. I figure I will take it as it comes, let family and friends love on me, and there is always the option of hot tea, weighted blanket, journal and comfort read.

still life from top of dresser

This thought came to me while I was at the library, donating the first round of books from RLRH’s shelves. It came as one of those weird grief things: starts out mildly surreal, but I can do this, then ‘oh crap, I’m actually doing this.’ After that, there is the whole ‘what am I doing, this is their stuff’ thing and then ‘this is what they wanted’ thing and ‘somebody is going to be super happy to find these books at the library sale,’ even if that is a reseller.

Housemate and I also went through a couple of the boxes RLRH had in storage, things he had not asked after in years, but also things he wanted to keep. Again, whole range of emotions there, and once we got home, I super crashed, with Storm paying very close attention. Housemate suggested some form of visual confirmation that we had sorted through the boxes we did. Excellent suggestion. I am all out of neon labels, but that is easily fixed. Any excuse to visit a stationery related store is a good one.

Hardware stores are more neutral. Tomorrow is, after laundry, hardware store time, for mattress bags and a decent lighting device for the storage unit. That, as well, is moving forward. Writing-wise, indie publishing journey progresses, waiting only on one thing each for Drama King and A Heart Most Errant to make their final preparations for going live. I am taking part in a program called “The Write Stuff,” through Romance Writers of America. That means a small critique group within my genre (historical this time) and monthly meetings online to learn craft and commune with others of my kind. On that front, we tap into the computer side of things.

RLRH left electronics, which need various degrees of attention. I also have a couple of devices that need attention, whether it’s ‘this thing is toast’ or ‘easily fixable’ or some other diagnosis. Wipe, factory reset, sell, donate, recycle. Now, more than ever, keeping track of what I do on what day becomes important, not only because the regular course of things has been completely obliterated, but because I am charting brand new territory. Some of that is returning to places I haven’t been in a while. Taking pictures, for one. The earrings are a Halloween purchase, but are among my favorites for everyday wear. The small perfume bottle is a gift from a friend, and the large one is RLRH’s favorite cologne, which I have appropriated. Vanilla, tobacco, and tonka bean confirm that scent does indeed hold memories.

That is a good enough place to wrap for today. I am a writer. Writers write. Thanks for reading.

as always, Anna

Detour

Hey, all. Anna here. As Storm said earlier, we are on a life detour around here. On Thanksgiving Eve, Real Life Romance Hero fell on the stairs, which resulted in a hospital stay. I won’t go into details here, but the goal is discharge. Days now begin with a hike to the hospital (we are only a few blocks away) and then the day goes as it goes. Hike back home, chill with Housemate and Storm, then wind down for the day.

Here, I will mention that I have anxiety and PTSD in part around loved ones in hospitals, so that adds another level. RLRH is stable, and I am doing what I need to do. Part of that includes getting my planners and journals set p for 2026. Right now, I want to use what I already have. Thankfully, I have a good deal. Focusing on things like planning and writing actually helps a lot, so I am planning (hah, see what I did there?) on setting up a tentative posting schedule here and on Melvaandanna.com.

A couple of days ago, I came home from the hospital, not yet ready for bed. I set up January in a personal sized ring planner, with an undated refill that has lovely pale pink accents throughout. I like my own handwriting, so I don’t need date stickers. I’m pretty well stocked with deco stickers, washi, etc. I like to think of it as a wine cellar for stationery. Please note, I do not drink, so maybe I have the wrong idea of how to use a wine cellar.

My everyday carry (EDC) is different when my destination is the hospital, not knowing how long I will be there. I bring one bound journal, equipped with colored page flags. I call it my maid of all work journal because that is what makes most sense for me. Everything goes in there. Notes on RLRH\s progress, notes on apartment stuff, personal journaling, and writing stuff.

Melva is taking the lead on publishing Drama King in early 2026. We have a tagline now, which I will debut on our site, and I will return to editing Queen of Hearts once things calm down over here. A Heart Most Errant will also be out in 2026, and I am writing on A Heart Most Ardent. A scene between my two leads, newlywed strangers, fell out of my pen in one waiting room session. Writing felt good. Familiar. Useful, even. Not perfect, not firm, but written, and that is the most important thing.

TLDR: RLRH needs some extra care right now, planning is mental health, and 2026 will see new releases in both contemporary and historical romance. I am also making some loose plans for 2026 reading, but that’s another story. Pun intended.

as always, Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: Mama Anna’s Birthday Week Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. October has been a quiet month for the blog, but that’s not because nothing is going on. It’s actually the opposite. Super powers are in full swing, and Mama Anna is not idle. I will say, though, that she is slow on the uptake on one thing.

Her favorite week of the year is what she calls the tucked away week, from December 25 to January 1, aka between Christmas and New Year’s Day. She has only this year acknowledged that there is a second (or rather, first, as October comes before December) tucked away week, and that is between October 24th (her birthday) and October 31 (Halloween.) Start and end with a holiday both times, special foods and customs, seasonal decor, friends and family, you get the drift. Which is quicker than her in this case. That’s okay. Not everybody can be a cat. I am, though, so I lucked out on that one.

Anyway, Mama Anna’s birthday was great. Social media people showed up with good wishes, Aunt Linda took her to lunch and the art store (Mama Anna loves the art store) and Papa got Chinese food for dinner and they got to hang out at home. I gave her cuddles and headbonks and we played red dot, which was super fun. The next day, the party kept going.

This is Cousin Skye, who is a dog, and different from Big Sister Skye, who is a cat (Rainbow Bridge) and her lobster toy from all of us. That is the only picture of said lobster toy, as she loved it to death. Literally. RIP, Lobster. We all knew that going in. Next time, Kong. That’s Uncle Brian with her, who is married to Aunt Mary, who makes the bestest pina colada cake (I have to take the humans’ word for it, because apparently it is Not For Kitties) I stayed home with Papa, because I am not great on my own for whole afternoons. They did go thrifting and I got to inspect the results of that. I approved everything.

Here I am, with a paper bag that passed inspection with flying colors. Very crunchy, smells great. Papa said I did mostly great on our afternoon, playing with him, getting treats and cuddles. I did pace for the last hour-ish, but as soon as I heard Mama Anna come home, I was all better. I have been sticking close to her ever since. She had to help Aunt Linda do something out of the house on Monday, which is too soon for Mama Anna to go out after being out already, but she brought back interesting bags and I got catnip. I forget what happened after the catnip, but my paws are amazing. I have switchblade fingers.

For those wondering if I am going to dress up for Halloween (if your question is do I let Mama Anna put things on me, like hats and capes, the answer is yes) wait no longer. I will be dressing as an ice cream sundae. Dark fudge and chocolate on vanilla, to be exact. It is the traditional dress of my people, the Calico. It is also the same as my everyday look, because it’s just that good.

What are you up to this tucked away week?

Headbonx, Storm

Watercolors and Me: a Love Story

Lately, I have fallen in love with watercolors. I’m not sure how it happened. Maybe it was part of my resolve to use my stash, but however it happened, I’m in and in deep. Do I know a lot about watercolors? No. Am I especially good at them? Also no. At the moment, I am mostly at the stage of figuring out how it all works, swatching paints, making pretty blobs, and watching endless YouTube videos on palettes and brushes and what sorts of pens work with the medium.

Right now, I am mostly planning on adding watercolors to my journal arsenal. There’s something almost meditative in plopping the colors on the paper and mushing them around. I even like when I flood the page too much for a wet on wet and paint goes places I didn’t intend. This reminds me strongly of writing. It’s alchemical, especially since I serendipitously found out that a book I wanted to read was included in my Spotify plan, so now I can listen to voices read me a story full of emotion and angst and hope, splash colors around and then boom, the next lines for a scene I’d been stuck on slipped in under the fence.

Apparently, I have found something that helps me get where I want to go. Therapy Dude will probably have something to say about that. Probably good things. My educated guess is that being in that space where I am new. where I don’t know all the rules, bypasses the perfectionist in me who, like a character in one of Melva’s and my upcoming books would say, you can’t fail if you don’t play. Technically correct, but not good for the long term.

At the moment, I am filling this journal with things like this. Squares, circles, rectangles. Squiggles on some pages, one turned into a worm or snake (could go either way) and then using the result at the base for more journaling in whatever form feels right at the time. Hopefully about the current WIPs, but we will see. In any case, it needs to be that raw and genuine and focused, but not pressured. Unless that’s pressure. In any case (augh, I said that already) the end product probably won’t look very much like it does at this stage, but I most likely will go back through it, several times, getting something new from it each time.

Sometimes a swatch is just a swatch. Sometimes it is a stepping stone to getting back in the groove. Last night, I put together a small watercolor kit, with a travel palette, water brush, mister bottle, and tiny pad of watercolor paper. I can take it anywhere. I don’t know that I plan on making “real” art (but isn’t all art real?) or sharing it at all, but I do know I want to do it more, and the more I paint, the more stories I want to tell. I call that success.

as always, Anna

Funeral for a Friend…and a Baby Shower

This is an odd week. Staring with a funeral, ending with a baby shower. In between is, well, interesting. When I get back, Real Life Romance Hero and I will retrieve Koolio from his winter home (Housemate’s closet) and thus the Age of Air Conditioning, AKA summer, will begin.

I am not the biggest proponent of summer. If I had the option to scarper off somewhere for a second winter instead of summer, I would take it. Yes, I am aware Australia exists. It’s also time to turn over ye ole wardrobe from winter to summer. See you in September, cuddly sweaters and fleecy leggings. Hello, floaty dresses and loose over shirts.

So, the title of this blog post– let’s get to that. seeing how many people loved Michele was lovely, and I am super glad I got to sit with Melva, as the three of us were a formidable trio of one amazing writing group for many years. I’d hoped to get a cyber-version together, but that didn’t pan out. Insert rumination of always thinking there will be more time here. I am feeling that very keenly at the moment, and likely will be for a while.

Whenever we were together, we encouraged each other to keep writing. I have her memorial card (above) in my EDC traveler’s notebook to remind me of that, especially on the hard days, of which this is one. I don’t believe we “get over” losing a loved one. Rather, we heal around it, and, as Therapy Dude suggested, find a place within ourselves where that relationship now lives. With Michele, the answer is easy: stories.

Besides her two published YA historical novels, some nonfiction work, and the fanfics through which she met, Michele also experimented with other works. I am salty about the dual P.O.V. historical fiction with romantic elements that she had been working on most recently. I’m going to miss the chance to hold that book in my hands. That’s not in my control. What I can control is my own writing. This week is a family week. Funeral at the start, and baby shower at the finish.

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

The baby shower is also out of state. It feels as though only yesterday, I was at my nephew’s wedding. Now he’s going to be a dad. It seems like only the day before that, I met him and his parents (his mom is that sister-friend who became instant family) at a historical reenactment, and the father-to-be was in preschool. His parents had to leave early so they could get him to bed because they had to get him to daycare in the morning. Now he’s a firefighter, married, and in the late summer or early fall, I will meet his first kiddo. Time does go quickly.

That’s about enough for one day over here, but I do need to mention that the person sitting behind me at the gathering on Monday saw eleven turtles the day before. I have no context but it seemed important. I would like to see some turtles.

How is your week going?

as always, Anna

Yes, I May

Welp, here we are at the start of another month. It’s the bridge between spring and summer, Since we have several colleges in our area, there is a definite shift in the community when the “kids” go home from the summer. The local small business ice cream stand is open (Haven’t gone yet, but will) and we will soon be summoning Coolio, our portable air conditioner, from his winter home (housemate’s closet.) Clothing-wise, we are on the cusp of dress season. I am loving the big screen on my desktop computer. Being able to see what I am doing is kind of a new thing.

Though I am an ambassador for the extremely talented Eryka Peskin, this is not a post she asked for, but one that I hope she likes. I am currently in her Celebration Circle group, which is, as Eryka would say, amazeballs. I like the challenge of finding things to celebrate, whether on a given topic, or freestyle, and I find that creeping over into other areas of life.

I am not going to lie: starting over as many times as I have (or perceive myself as having done) sucks because nobody wants things like serious illness, homelessness, injuries, deaths in the family, etc. At the same time, it’s awesome, because I am coming at t his, this time, with more experience, more wisdom, and, at times, more spite because that Bad Thing is not going to end me. Not only am I going to do the thing but do it twice and take pictures.

Didn’t mean to post sleeping Storm, but who doesn’t love a kitty picture?

Storm is pretty chill about coming into the new season, which is par for the course. She does have a few things to say about the new desk setup, as her usual sproing lands her on my keyboard. There is still some space for her on the desk, but at the moment, she seems best pleased to watch from the bed. She is getting used to the kitty sling. It’s one of her favorite beds at the moment. We haven’t tried putting her in it yet, but so far, so good.

One of the perks of this kind of experience (mine, not Storm’s) is that I have a wide experience on what doesn’t work for me. Lots of trial and error. Some successes. Some serendipitous discoveries. Some flying into the mist, as the late great Jo Beverley would say. Before I know it, I will be pulling the trigger on my first independent publication. (Though I did write for and publish fanzines beck in the day.) Then after that, Melva and I do the same thing with the second two Love By the Book books. I am writing my first planned historical romance series, on book two of four now, which is definitely a learning experience.

What I am getting at here is this: yes, I may. Yes, I may make mistakes. Yes, I may try something different. Yes, I may start something new. Yes, I may pick up where I left off involuntarily and make it through to the end. Yes, I may put a blog post up a couple of days late. The world will not end. We are all human here.

as always, Anna

A Writer and Her Desks: A Love Story

From time to time, Facebook asks me if I would like to remember certain images. This past week, they suggested this one:

Sleepy Hollow (tv)

This one hit me hard. Not only because I am still, and ever will be, salty over what the powers that be did to the couple pictured above. I will put my fingers in my ears and loudly “la-la-la” until whoever is discussing the season three finale or anything after that. Nope, nope, didn’t happen. Abbie and Crane are happily ever after-ing and I will take no questions.

The other reason is the desk. This desk and I have a history. Literally. It’s older than I am. I have drooled over it since I was two. Before that, I drooled on it. This is a secretary desk, with a writing surface that doubles as a door I can close on the day’s work. while the screen is in the way of most of them, there are cubbyholes. Oh so many cubbyholes. Places for papers and stickers and sticky notes and all sorts of stationery related objects. There are drawers beneath the surface and a cabinet below that. At first, I used the top shelf as a bookshelf, and later moved the monitor up there so I could get at the cubbyholes.

This desk is now in our storage unit, where we put it during that first move. I still miss it. I will bust it out one day. At the same time, I love the desk I put together with my own two hands and a little help from my friends (cue Beatles.) I am grateful I have it now. Ideally, I would have both, in an office big enough for the two of them. The current desk would be for my desktop and the secretary would be for planning and journalling and all things longhand.

Some of the things on it, I have, and some that I also have in storage. The journal on the desktop is by Paperblanks, That particular book is in — you guessed it— storage, but I have other journals in that brand, and my EDC planner, in pocket size. I am not sure which mugs survived the moves, but I have different pen storage options now. My gargoyle pencil cup is once again in service, accompanied by new friends like a Plague Doctor plushie and an ever-growing calico plushie army. I also learned what Delfonics pouches are, and, I would hope, a lot more about writing.

The purpose of my desk is the same; to write books, to blog, and also make pixel art (okay, that’s new) but it feels different. It’s been a while since I felt like Writer Anna, or like Writer Anna had a proper place to do her/my thing. I do, though. It’s weird. I should know a better word for that, but I don’t. At least not right now, which is fine.

Back in the before-before-before times, when we still lived in the Old Country, I remember sitting in a Panera, trying not to cry in public because I had finished A Heart Most Errant, then called Ravenwood. I’d spent all that time with John and Aline, and there they were, happy. Home. Not quite “finished,’ as they will be happily-ever-after-in on page in the rest of the Ravenwood (series) books, my first planned historical series. Now, I am getting them ready to be my first independently published novella. Will I cry when Richard and Cecilia reach their HEA? Probably. Will I also be exited to pivot to Guy and Katherine’s story? Very much so, and the same when it is time for Juliana’s (Cecilia’s daughter) story, with a hero who will most likely be named Maximilian. How did I come up with that name? He told me, and it’s historically plausible. That’s how it works.

It’s also how my relationship with my desks works. We’ve grown together. There will likely be a desk tour in the near future. I have shelves and drawers and fairy lights. I also have a 3-D printed rose gold skull that was originally a yarn bowl (I don’t knit, but Housemate does; it was a gift from her) but is now home to a calico plushie.

What’s on your desk?

as always, Anna

Organizing Your Writing Space and Genre for Better Creativity

Right now, we have a big, heavy box of lumber and metal things waiting on our third floor landing. Monday, there will be a new-to-me desktop computer on my desk. This all means that the bedroom/office is in chaos, but the sort of chaos that leads to more organization. Today, that resulted in me sorting out a big canvas bag with all my everyday journaling stuff in it. Being able to pick up One Thing and move around the apartment (I have a single journal set aside for coffee shop/park journaling) a lot easier, and have set up the necessities for any journaling, plotting or actual writing that make take place in the soft office.

Photo by Viktoria Alipatova on Pexels.com

Going forward, I will be focusing on taking more pictures myself and using them to help tell the stories of life and other things (like actual stories) but stock art is a lifesaver at times like this. I have felt, previously, that there was some “right” way to share and better to err on the side of reticence, but I cancelled my subscription to that. If you’re here, it’s because you’re interested in what I have to say (or are lost, in which case, welcome)

Do I know exactly what I am doing here now that I am a big girl with her own domain? Not even close, so I will do what I do best: splash around in the shallows until I figure out where the good swimming is and then head in that direction, fueled by a meticulous plan. At this point, A Heart Most Ardent is in that magpie stage, gathering shiny bits of this and that. Today I got to the stage of “hmm, these new pages do not fit on the small discs anymore (I am using a discbound system for this) and I now need to migrate things to classic or expander discs. For the most part, I want to use what I already have on hand. More of a shop my stash instead of no-buy, but I got this stuff because I wanted it, so now is the time to put it to use.

That does indeed mean even the good stuff. My book is worth the good stuff. This story is worth the good stuff. This is the first time I have started a planned series (or first and a half, considering that Melva Michaelian and I have done a lot of planning for our Love by the Book series (more on that coming soon to MelvaandAnna.com) of co-written contemporary romances. The actual publication of A Heart Most Errant creeps ever closer. John and Aline, the leads in their book, will be supporting cast going forward, so I’ll want to have their information on hand. Earlier today. I watched a video on YouTube about romantasy and its difference from Romantic Fantasy and Fantasy Romance, which resonates greatly.

This does not mean I am taking on a third subgenre, but it also doesn’t mean I won’t ever. We’ll see. The reason the video resonated was because I have long said the difference between a Romantic Historical and Historical Romance is thus:

Historical Romance: The war is over! I love you!
Romantic Historical: I love you! The war is over!

With that definition, I do fall under Historical Romance, but I do like Romantic Historical. Historical Romance must have a happy ending, while Romantic Historical can. Either way. thinking of following some of the flavor of fantasy worldbuilding for the historical world (just everyday life for them) feels intriguing, so I might nose around in that area.

This is the part where I feel I have blabbered long enough and also have heard about a thing called “dinner” that would be beneficial for all.

as always, Anna

Blabberblog

Blabbery blog for today, because 1) it’s April First, and I am too tired to come up with anything appropriate (plus :gestures at world: Who can top that for insanity?) and 2) the parts of my brain that are not begging for sleep are concentrated on The New Book. Also 3) I will be upgrading to a paid version of this page, which will mean more storage space, my own domain name, so no need to have WordPress in my addy, etc.

Pictures will come later, but I am rather proud of myself for finishing an entire three months of daily schedule pages (acutally six, since the three I just finished were a refill pack.) I am now on the extras from an undated pack, and after that, I can either switch to a different design, or recreate the current design in my own style (probably doing that) either in Canva or right on the page with ruler and stencils. Even odds on which one I will pick.

Seasonal pouch updates. I am a pouch dragon. I like having a notebook for a specific purpose, in a pouch that has all the stuff I will need for it, with it, so that if I need to grab and go elsewhere, boom, there it is, and I don’t have to go looking for the right pen or a sticky note, eraser, etc. If I can decorate it for the season, that’s a plus. I have had my pink medium Delfonics pouch above for a while now, utterly love it, and have a mustard version that lives in my reading nook. The one above lives on my desk. I got a small black one for my everyday carry, and figured I could use black all year round. but (thanks to Housemate) a small pink version should be landing on my stoop sometime today.

Pink for spring/summer, and then black for fall/winter feels right for me. I am now a very happy collector of tac pins and pinback buttons and will hang a lobster claw charm on anything that moves slower than I do. I am a maximalist. I want stuff I love around me, preferably using multiple senses, and somewhere in the personalization, I connect better. Is that going to work for everyone? No. Do I feel bad about it anymore? No. I used to. What was wrong with me that i couldn’t be…not me? Ummm, yeah. Nothing.

The latest iteration of my desk has a small shelf on top of my planner crate, that Michaels terms “Regencycore” (not seeing it, but okay) — Carved roses at the top, flower print on the back “wall” and it flat out makes me happy to look for it. Also to have one place I can reach out and grab washi, index cards, or punches.

Storm says hi, and is aware she owes a blog

Storm has sproinged herself onto my desk, demanding cuddles so that makes for a natural break. Happy April. Hope you are well or soon will be; no fooling about that.

as always, Anna (and Storm)