Off-Center, Now With Fairy Lights

Photo by lilartsy on Pexels.com

Yesterday was an organization and planning day. Normally, I like to do this while it’s the weekend, preferably Sunday, but that didn’t work out, so yesterday is good enough.sk moved somewhat on its own to its current position off-center of where it used to be, now bumping against the corner of my rustic crate bookcase. It’s a lot better to have a bookcase to look at while I work , rather than a blank wall (why did I ever think that was a good idea?) The white Chirstmas lights, aka fairy lights, though, those are intentional.

I’m not sure what it is about white fairy lights, but I love them. For Christmas trees, I like colored lights, either blinking or chasing, but white lights have a certain classy factor to them, and combined with the rustic wood of the bookcase, I am definitely feeling this. Also might end up putting some of the books from my post-birthday haul there, so I can get a glimpse of where I’d like to see my name in the very near future. Or present, for a copy of Chasing Prince Charming. Because I do that, too.

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See? My name. Also Melva’s.

I had snapped a shot of the current setup with the lights and all, but Amazon Photos is not cooperating, so here is Michael, one of my current Sims, who was on the screen when I took the photo

picture taken ingame, lots of ccfd, ReShade, etc

We’ll work on that later. The above screenshot is from my current Sims save, one where I wiped allll the premades and their houses, replaced with my own and painstakingly built my own world. Yes, that sounds a lot like writing. But with visuals. Plus I have to have my Sims living in houses built from real floorplans Yes, always. Except for apartments, which I can’t change, which is annoying, but fine.

I have been doing intense searches for custom content, checking decorating trends past and present, relying on color theory as only an artist’s kid can, and it has now spilled over into my actual life. Which is actually kind of fun, and conducive to writing with more comfort.

When I decorate a Sim’s environment, it matters what I choose for their “clutter” or decor, because it’s part of their story. As mine is part of mine. I do want to do an un-bagging of my birthday haul, so when I do that, I will have to do some rearranging of the bookshelves, which do not currently have actual books on them, as mine have been in storage. Probably rearrange the lights as well, and more than likely add to them, because I have met me, and those things are in stores everywhere. Also they are probably good for Real Life Romance Hero’s craving for more light in these dark months. (I, on the other hand, loooove the early nights. They are the best and fill me with joy.) More pictures coming then, which will give me more to talk aobut than mindless blabbering, but some of you are into that kind of thing, so this is your lucky day.

As it is mine, as now that I have a blog post down, I can go play Sims.

How’s your week going?

NaNot, Mislaid Plan(ners) and Other Stories

Once again, I am not doing National Novel Writing Month, though I am peeking through the cracks in the fence. Maybe next year? Maybe so. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know the last couple years have been quite the trip. Several of them, as a matter of fact, so that staying home now is actually kind of exciting, because I have a home to stay in, which I figured would have some sort of effect on my productivity.

If we are talking about blogging, I am doing okay. If we are talking about journaling, I am absolutely crushing it. We’ll talk more about that later. If we’re talking about writing romance fiction, that’s where it gets a little murkerier, and yes, I did put that distancing phrase in there on purpose. Melva and I completed one contemporary romance novel, which we now need to do some surgery upon before we can give it another shot with our current publisher. That’s not a bad thing. We are currently working on another one, and starting a new contemporary series after that. We are working our way to a new sort of schedule as both of us have had changes in our day to day routines, but we are getting into the swing of it, and it’s good.

only the tip of my big bag of books iceberg

For historical romance, that’s where I feel the most guilty, meaning that I’m not where I thought I was going to be at this point. I mean, it’s in sight, and I am getting my way back there. I am now in a two person critique group with a local writer friend, who is newer to the game. We write different subgenres, but both under the romance or romantic elements umbrella. I do read the genre that she writes in, though she is new to historical romance, and I am very interested to see what I can learn about historical romance from seeing it through fresh eyes. So it’s steps in the right direction. Historical romance is also a very common topic on my weekly three hour chats with my friend, Mary, who gifted me a huge bag of classic historicals on her recent visit. I also owe a letter to another writer friend, which is all moving in the direction of getting back to talking about my work, which, for me, is definitely a thing. #extrovertlife

The writing planner I had set up for the last six months of this year is sitting in its cover, glaring at me. Not to say that the planner isn’t working. What it means is that that method is not working for me, and I need to find the one that does. Which means trial and error and blabbering about it here, because, metaphorically, I have a microphone and you all have to listen to everything I say. (The Wedding Singer is a work of genius; fight me.) In short, all part of the process. As we near the end of the year, the planner possibilities are endless, and I will find the right one at the right time. For now, it’s going to be more a matter of blundering into the forest with oven mitts on my hands, and recording what actually worked for me. That tends to be how I work. Stumble my way halfway in, survey, and make a plan. I am bound and determined that A Heart Most Errant is not going to have a birthday of sitting in my documents file, edits unaddressed. Nope, nope, nope. February is not that far away, which means I need to get on it.

How does yoeur week look?

Typing With Wet Paws: Nipped Edition

Storm’s up, Tail Troopers. Wait. That’s not right. It sounds kind of right. Close to right? Almost right. Right words, wrong order, yeah? Ever since Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian brought me some special mousies, things sometimes get kind of…wavy. Not that I mind. I mean, look at my paw.

Did you know I have switchblade fingers? Well, I do.

Have you ever really looked at a paw? Paws are amazing. I can put my claws in, put them out, pull them in again. Any. Time. I. Want. How great is that? Also, I have four of them. Plus one tail. No switchblades in my tail, though, but it goes up when I am happy. New toys always make me happy. Especially when they are special toys, if you know what I mean. I mean catnip. I love that stuff.

All the humans did fun things on the weekend, like having dinner where Papa works. While he was working, even, so they got to see him do his job. He is super duper good at it, but a lot of people know that already, like Mama Anna. Nice to have it confirmed, though. There was the time when the chef accidentally tried to kill Mama Anna, though. I say accidentally, because they probably did not know that Mama Anna is allergic to mushrooms, and there were mushrooms in the soup when it didn’t say that on the menu. She is okay, though. She had the soup put in a to go container, ate other food, and took it home for Papa.

Keeping Mama Anna’s seat warm.

I, purr-sonally, did not get to go to Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian’s hotel, which I am told was very nice, with a big couch, so there was room for me, and pets were allowed, so I hung with my special mousies that evening. The humans did all agree, though, that the next visit has to be soon, and at Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian’s house, and that I have to come along, because separation anxiety. This means that A) I will get two car rides (there and back) and B) Mama Anna will need to harness train me, so that when I get out of my adventure cave after the car ride, she can keep eyes on me at all times in a new environment.. I should probably also mention that While Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian have my Cousin Andy (who is a young grownup, and will be getting married to my Cousin-to-Be Leah, and moving to his own house next year; dibs on his room when we visit after that) but also my Cousin Aiden, who is a Golden Retriever. That is a kind of dog, who will not be getting married and thus will stay licing in that house. I am not sure if he knows a lot of cats (probably not) so only one of us will be free range at any given time, and I will be on the lead when it’s me.

In related news, Cousin Andy asked Aunt Anna if she would be a character reference for an important job he wants to do, and she said yes. That means that she had to talk to an important person on the phone and answer questions about whether she thinks Cousin Andy is a good human (spoiler alert: he is) and can do important job (Spoiler alert: he can.) She said yes and yes, so that is on the record now. She of course countered this very adult responsibility by playing video games, so the balance is restored.

Also restored is her love of reading historical romance, since Aunt Mary did in fact give her a honking big bag of classic historical romances (she will talk about that on Buried Under Romance, later.) Some of those were books she had once owned and wanted to get again (score!) while others were books she had always wanted to read, but never got the chance (also score) and a couple were even brand new to her, even though they had been written and/or published before she was even a grownup herself.

Mama Anna also read one entire book this week, but it was from the library, not that bag, and it was not even fiction. It was Idiot, by Laura Clery, who is actually very smart and very funny. It is a memoir, which means it is about her life up to the time she wrote it. There is another one coming in spring, and Mama Anna already wants to read that one, too. She will read other books before then, though.

Did you know that my special mousies have knots in the end of their tails? They are super good for biting and throwing so I can pounce. Yeah. That’s fun, Think I’m going to go do that soon, or maybe nap in that sunbeam.

Headbonks!

Typing With Wet Paws: Company’s Coming Edition

Tails Up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. This is a super special weekend coming, because Mama Anna gets to see Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian IN PERSON, and I get to meet them for the very first time. They have a dog at home (who will probably be staying home, but I can still smell him on them and will “meet” him that way. If I mark them (which I will) the he can learn all about me that way. It’s secret code we fur people have. Works pretty well.) Anyway, Mama Ann is doing a lot to get ready for this visit, which is actually pretty fun for her.

Part of that is getting presents ready. Even though one of the reasons is for Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian to help celebrate Mama Anna’s birthday, they are also covering other holidays that they were not able to see each other, due to the global situation, and then an early Christmas. This means there are probably going to be bags and boxes for me to play with, which is always good.

Aunt Anna says nobody is going to catch her unawares on this whole visit thing, and I don’t blame her. This is kind of big, having company. She has always loved company, ever since she was a people kitten. Can you spot the baby extrovert here? Hint: that would be Mama Anna. Also me. I love friends, and I kind of know Aunt Mary from the weekly glowy box sessions. It will be fun to see if I recognize her. I bet that I will. I am predicting headbonks (from me) – my way of saying “property of Storm.”

One thing that Mama Anna is getting excited about is that Aunt Mary is going to bring a big bag (dibs on the bag!) of the kinds of books Mama Anna loves the very best: those big epic historical romances of um…a lot of cats ago. Mama Anna thinks that will go a long way to fixing her reader’s block. Also, she is looking forward to taking pictures of all the pretty covers and sharing those here. It’s also kind of coming full circle, because Mama Anna’s first exposure to historical romance novels would be many cats ago, when Mama Anna’s Aunt Lucy (I guess that makes her my Great Aunt Lucy) would visit Mama Anna’s Mama (Grandma Erma; I have to wait until Rainbow Bridge to meet here, and that is a very very long time away) and bring…you guessed it, a big bag of big, epic historical romances.

Mama Anna’s job was to take those bags of books to the laundry room and put them on a special shelf. She wasn’t allowed to read them yet (she would overstep that boundary soon) because she was too young, but she always looked at the covers and read the back blurbs and made up her own stories to go with those elements. Now she is getting back to writing them. Point is, aunts bearing bags of historical romance novels have a relly good track record around these parts.

What’s on tap for your weekend?

Headbonks!

Storm

Typing With Wet Paws: Birthday Prep Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers. I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Zoom by edition this week because A) it is Aunt Linda’s vacation and Mama Anna is required for vacation shenanigans. We are now one week and only a few days away from one of the most important days of the year: Mama Anna’s birthday.

photo by Mama Anna

Mama Anna really, really, really loves birthdays. They don’t have to be hers, but it doesn’t hurt if it is. This time, it is. That is going to be big fun, I am sure. Hopefully with some boxes I can play with once Mama Anna gets the inside stuff out of them, so I can be the inside stuff. Next week, we are going to have company, as Aunt Mary, whom we see in the glowy box during every Wednesday chat, is coming to visit with Uncle Brian, to celebrate Mama Anna’s birthday, their friendiversary, and early Christmas all at once. I love meeting new friends. Mama Anna thinks I will probably recognize Aunt Mary, and she is probably right.

Purr-sonally, I think that Mama Anna can best celebrate by getting the adventure cave and taking me with her literally everywhere like she did for my first year with these guys, but she tells me that’s not how it works. We will see about that.

This week was kind of crazy because everybody was home for most of it, and Mama Anna works best when she has a door she can close and go about her business. Chats with creative friends helps, too. Mama Anna has been doing a bunch of journaling work, which she may talk about later. Because that is happening around her birthday, it involves a lot of stationery things, both already owned and new, and I am fully prepared to sit on all of them. Which of course means i am going to be very very busy. Better get to it.

Headbonks!

Storm

A Good Place To Be

Today is a lovely, chill, and grey Monday in October, which is to say exactly my kind of day. This may also be why it is almost three pm when I sit down to write this post. I spent all of the time prior alternating between setting up my planners and turbo napping. I am not exactly done with the plan-ification because I acquired a new planner this weekend, an early birthday gift from the friend who gave me my first Happy Planner, thus creating the monster that is now me.

The new planner is a “skinny” planner, same length but half the width of the classic version, which is here:

photo: Anna Carrasco Bowling

I haven’t taken any pictures of the new planner yet, (not this design, but this size) because A) I am still deciding how I want to use it, and B) I’m not decorating it until I figure out its purpose. The friend who gave it to me doesn’t use a planner, but uses this sort of planner as a notebook. I do know it’s the same theme as my catchall planner (the one above is my writing planner) and the coordinating sticker book. My friend says she likes that size for toting around in her purse, so I might try that. It also fits perfectly in the zip folio that would be bulky in my purse, but never felt right with anything else. I have also done squat all for months with the dot grid notebook (though it has delicious thick, smooth paper; I think I’m not a dot grid person) I put in there a few um, months ago.

I hate having partially used notebooks lingering in my possession, but they also aren’t exactly salable or re-giftable, so I am still figuring out what to do with that sort of thing. Maybe scrap paper? IDK.

There’s something about birthdays and planners and trackers and calendars and journals and that sort of thing. Combine that with an online workshop on resilience I am taking right now, which is highly relevant to my interests, of coming back into myself. I very much like knowing why somebody else likes something they like, and inviting me to experience it too, well, that’s special. It also still doesn’t bring me any closer to knowing what I want to use this new planner for, but eh, that’s kind of how I operate anyway. Jump in, splash around, and then sort it out in some sort of organic fashion.

That’s a heartening thought as I look at the writing week ahead, especially since it’s Housemate’s staycation. We do have some fun stuff planned, and some time set aside where she is doing her thing and I am doing mine, aka actually writing.

Ever since I started having weekly video chats with one of my besties, I have felt ever so much Anna-er. Ditto with the fledgling critique partnership I have with a local writer friend, also via video. Bonus points for said writer friend also being a big ol’ extrovert. I even have some pen and paper letters in the works, which is something I have always found both a necessity and a delight. It also means I get to dive neck deep into pretty stationery, pens, stickers, ephemera, et al. It’s a good place to be.

How is the start of your week looking?

If The Ears are on, I’m Working

It’s funny, the things we remember sometimes. This morning, when I set aside time to fully plan out my week (I hear the voice of an aunt in my head: “I don’t mind clutter, but I can’t stand chaos.” I may well be turning into my aunts, which is fine, because they were all awesome.) my brain informed me that the first time I knew (American) football was a fall sport was on my first day of maybe second or third grade, when a fall themed bulletin board included football imagery.

Photo by Jean-Daniel Francoeur on Pexels.com

The reason my brain thought I might like to know this was probably because I had laid down some autumn leaves scrapbook paper, because having an image on the page anchors my attention, making the actual planning a lot easier. Insomnia has been raging this past week, meaning that I do have some ground to recover, and planning is the way I figure out how that happens. Planning is also great for focusing on something that is creative but not storytelling creative, which gives that part of my brain some room to do its own thing without me in the way.

There’s also the fact that I can see my week laid out, mark the family days (two per week) that I will have a full house (not the tv show) so those are very unlikely to have writing time unless I leave the house. This is one reason I look forward to having a dedicated office, with a door I can close, in our next apartment, but we will be here for a while. Not at all complaining about that. I will make do with cat ear headphones. If the ears are on, leave me alone. This actually works because if eyes are on me, then I know I have to actually produce something.

For those who may be wondering, this post has nothing at all to do with football. I neither watch nor play, so it doesn’t affect me in any way I can relate. Why did it show up on my mental feed, then? I am not sure. Maybe because I am training myself to get back into writer mode, after being in survivor mode for so long. There is executive dysfunction, which is basically “I need to do the thing. I want to do the thing. I know how to do the thing. I have the stuff I need to do the thing. It is right over there. I should do the thing,” and then….not doing the thing. Gets annoying after a while, by which I mean immediately, and every time.

The only way through this kind of executive dysfunction with writing is to actually do the writing. Which means writing bad pages. Knowing that I am writing bad pages. Write bad pages until I write good pages. Lather, rinse, repeat. Feels like I have been doing that a lot lately. Probably boring and/or annoying people, because geez, get on with it, woman. Not always that easy, but there is indeed a path through. Insert the maxim about not comparing someone else’s chapter thirty to one’s own chapter five. Even if chapter five seems really long. It happens.

The point of al of this? Eh. An item off my list. Seeing things on a list, especially a visually appealing list, makes the Big Scary Task look and feel a lot more palatable. So. It’s here. So am I. I call that a win. Planner open at the ready, now off to Google Docs and some time with my imaginary friends.

How does your week look?

Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: Second Adopotiversary Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. This is a very special month, because it has a bunch of super fun stuff in it. Most importantly, though, this week sees my second adoptiversary, meaning I have completed two whole years of living with these guys. Before that, I was with my first mom, who did an amazing job of raising me as a happy, healthy kitty. I know she still loves me, and I still love her. She can see my pictures on Instagram, so she knows I am safe and happy.

pictures like this brighten anybody’s day

While that year long camping trip we went on to celebrate my adoption had its highlights, this week also means we start our second year of living in this apartment, and apartment living is definitely better. Even if the property manager, Mr. Kurt, did outsource pest control. Okay maybe it was the owner of the buildings, but still, am I a joke to them? Look at these teeth. Look at these claws. They don’t call them murder mittens for nothing. If there were a mouse in the house, I would have found it and brought it to Aunt Anna, whom I will now be calling Mama Anna (my first mom will be Mama D) because I love bringing her presents. Then again, the other apartments in our building don’t have cats, just dogs, so that could be part of it.

Anyway, since this is such a special week, Mama Anna said that I can talk about whatever I want. I don’t see how that is much different from every other week, because hey, I am a cat. That’s kind of how it works. For those of you who are wondering if I am calling the other humans anything different, Uncle Rheuben is now Papa and Aunt Linda is still Aunt Linda. I am not allowed outside, so I cant get them anything I would normally get. I don’t know what to do with stairs, anyway, and I can’t open doors that close all the way, so I do what I can.

I have to give the pest control human some props, because he did Psspsspss me. Of course I ignored him and went under the bed. He comes into my house and questions how I do my job? No thank you. He did recognize me as an Organic Pest Control Expert. I should give him some sort of professional courtesy. Though Aunt Linda now has to get a plastic container to put my dry food into. They sell that kind of thing where she works, which means it’s happening. If you think I am already thinking about ways I can open the lid, you are right. I like a challenge.

Mama Anna is occupying herself pretty well this week. She could do better on the reading front (mainly because if she does it on her tablet at night, in bed, I can sit on her shoulder and read along) but the writing is going well, and she is doing a stationery makeover/inventory/overhaul, which will include a…gasp…cull. I love this because that means there is more stationery laid out for me to lie on, especially when that is the particular thing she most especially needs. Speaking of which….

Headbonks!

Storm

The Importance of Stationery Nesting

Note: That is “stationery” nesting, as in nesting with stationery, not creating a nest that remains in one place, though that is probably a good idea, especially if young are involved.

Somewhere in our three room apartment, I have three, maybe four packs of my favorite discbound graph paper. There are not a lot of places this stuff could hide, but after a day of seriously whipping my writing area into shape (including but not limited to planner related things) I cannot find even one pack. This probably means that I put it where I thought it would be a logical place when I was tired or overwhelmed and a very poor judge of such matters.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Since I am the only one who touches my planner/journal supplies and indeed the only one who goes into my writing area, the list of possible culprits is extremely small. Basically, me, aka I can only blame myself for this development. :looks at self reprovingly: I have no doubt that I will find them in the process of “putting like with like,” as my mother used to phrase it. I hated that term when I was a kid, but as we often find out when we have to start doing my own adulting, Mom was on to something. She would probably be dumbfounded that organizing and planning is one of my passions. Seriously, I have been used as a pole in a scale designed to measure how much someone likes planners/stationery, “on a scale of ‘hate it,’ to ‘Anna,’ how much do you like planning/stationery?” Probably on more than one occasion, but I witnessed the one,

As a dear once upon a time writing group facilitator once said, “the process begets the product,” and I have found that she was also right. In her case, that meant keeping the pen on the paper for the entire span of our writing sprints, but in this case, it means that I remembered where I put an important item I needed while repurposing a languishing notebook into something I actually will use, and rotating out seasonal things that do not jibe with this season. It meant that while I was making the bed, I wondered what would happen if I pre-cut the printable stickers I love, using my slicer, rather than cutting them out one at a time, fussy cutting with small scissors.

I have repurposed my Big Pink traveler’s notebook to focus on some mindful creativity exercises, as a composer I admire terms them. That means doing some hard work regarding what makes me tick as a creator. My pink A5 six ring binder is similarly now for keeping lists of my favorite authors, tropes, settings, etc. This will serve as a handy “hey, you like this stuff; maybe put some of that in there” reference for when I need such a reminder. Please note that is “when,” not “if,” because it will definitely happen. I have known myself for quite a while now, and I may have noticed a few patterns.

I am very happy to be at this stage because it means I am getting ready to Do Business with the writing stuff, and that feels frankly amazing after the last few years. Not that anybody waved a magic wand, but more a series of progressions and setbacks and a lot of little things that all lined up to get me to this place. I have even been thinking about NaNo. If I do go through with it, I will be a rebel (no surprise) but even if I don’t sign up officially, I love the idea of testing how much I can do this time around.

How are you nesting this season?

Scattered Monday Thoughts (but the writing is going well)

Heh. This is the funny kind of thing that happens when the writing is going well and one actually takes the time to do the week’s planning all at once. By “funny” I mean “completely forgets that this is Monday and “write blog” was right there on the top of the list. I was doing well on the rest of it, though, so a quick blabbery post and I will be back at it.

Photo by Ravi Kant on Pexels.com

The “it,” of course, being the writing of actual fiction, which is going in an actually-not-awful direction. This sort of thing does seem to be easier since I have been putting some time and attention to some specific-for-writers journaling thingamaboodles, which I will probably talk more about later. The weather is cool and rainy today. I am wearing real shirts and sweatshirt, but pajama bottoms, and am settled at my desk, after a morning spread out in the soft office (aka on the bed) with planner stuff and some of the YouTube stuff I’ve been meaning to listen to while I do it, feline companion comfortably settled within petting range.

I have the house to myself today. Well, technically, for about twenty to sixty more minutes as of this writing, which is when one or more family members will return. It is true what they say about home being the place that, when you have to go there, they have to let you in. I’m not too bothered by this because A) I love everybody who lives with me, and B) we already have dinner covered, meaning I do not have to cook. I will probably still be the one doing dishes, though, but I don’t mind that. Especially since we have a new set of lovely, grown-up dishes, meaning the stuff we hauled around with us for a year can go into storage and only come out for potlucks and picnics and that sort of thing.

Writing feels good today. Stopping when family arrives also feels good, because I’ve put in a decent day’s work. That feels well, good would be too bland of a word, so I will say me-ish instead. I do feel as though I am getting closer to myself, which is a rather nice sort of feeling to have, especially when my purpose here is to draw on that me-ness to make up stories and blog posts and other related ventures.

That’s probably enough free form babbling for today, especially because I want to get the rest of a scene transcribed before the evening (or prevening, as Sheldon Cooper would call it) settles in and attention turns to family members and filling the creative well. As of late, that has involved a lot of music (surprisingly heavy on the Glee covers, and no, I do not know why) and my new old faithful, listening to somebody summarize horror movies or games that I have no intention of seeing/playing, while playing a very normal suburban version of Sims 4.

trust me, in the background, a mellifluous voice is describing something horrible.

How is your week going so far?