possibly pointless blabbering

Typing With Wet Claws: Evening Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for a slightly later than usual Feline Friday. Anty has had a very full day today. She and Mama went to the computer store to pick up the new tablet. There will be pictures of it later. It really does look like a cat-sized computer, and it is pink, like my tongue. I think Anty did get me my own computer. The keys on the keyboard (which is also pink) are very tiny. Small for human hands, but the right size for kitty fingers.  I think this means that she wants me to blog more. I can do that.

Uncle is still getting better. He does not smell all the way healthy yet, but Anty hopes that he will , soon. They gave him some very good pills at the people vet, and she does not have to hold his mouth open to make him take them. When I have to take pills (that is hardly ever now, but when I first got rescued by the shelter people, I had to take a lot of them, because I was born wild) I usually get liquid the humans can squirt in my mouth. Maybe Uncle should try that. As it is now, he is getting a lot of rest. I like to be under the bed and send him love beams.

Anty is still figuring out how to use her tablet (she can call it that, but I know it is really my computer) and is trying hard not to say bad words when she makes a mistake. She has made a few mistakes. There is a user’s manual (also kitty sized, but it is not written in Kitty. It is written in English) but Anty has not read it very closely. Anty prefers to learn by doing, even if that means making mistakes along the way. When she makes a mistake, she knows she should not do that thing again and will try something else. Sometimes, this takes her a while, but she gets where she needs to be in the end. This may take her longer than she thought to get my computer set up, but I am patient. I will wait.

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Anty does not have to wait very long for her tea when she goes to write at the coffee house, which is a good thing. Today, she did have to wait a lot while the computer got started, and then again when Word would not load and then Scrivener would not load. I do not know if Anty said any bad words or not, but I do know that she took out a notebook and wrote with a pen until Scrivener came around. Anty can be very determined like that. I think she deserved her people treat for that.

this is a people treat

this is a people treat

Anty has been so busy this week, that she did not get a chance to share the duck pictures she took on the way to visit Uncle at the people vet. She thinks there will be baby ducks in about three weeks. I do not think ducks fly near our house very much, but I do watch other kinds of birds through the window, so that is all right.

Mallards!

Mallards

There is another duck that lives in our kitchen. He does not fly, though. He helps with the dishes. Okay, he is not a real duck like the mallards but Anty likes rubber ducks, so she had to have him. Please ignore the work he has not yet done in the background.

not a real duck

not a real duck

Next Feline Friday, Anty will be at the NECRWA conference. I will not be going, because I am a kitty, but Anty is excited to be among others of her own kind. I think I will be nice and let her take my computer with her, because it is easier for her to carry than this one. If any readers will be there, let Anty know. She would love to say hello and talk about books.

writer at work

writer at work

Even with the extra things that have happened this week, Anty still likes to spend time in her story world. When the life in the really real world gets crazy, it can be relaxing to go into the story world, where things go (usually) the way Anty wants them to (but not always, because sometimes, characters have minds of their own) even if things are even crazier in there for the story people. Never mind the occasional evil cackle or heartwrenching sob from Anty. She writes romance, so all will be well in the end.

Speaking of writing, Anty reminds me that she still has some to do, so I will wrap this up for now, but now that I have my own computer, I may be blogging more often.

Until next time, I remain, very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

I Have No Idea, or, Roadmaps

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“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.”
– Arthur Ashe

Not ideas, because I am not O  at a loss for any of those. I have index card files, seriously, so I am not going to run out any time soon. Not every idea is going to be written, but each one of them has something in there that I can use in some form. Even if what I glean from that is “never pitch a book idea you pulled out of your :ahem: self after not sleeping for three days straight because the pitch session just took an awkward turn. Not that that ever happened to anybody I know. :cough: But ideas, yes, lots of those.

What I’m talking about here is those days when I have no idea what I’m doing. I hate those. People who know me know that I’m a planner. I like to know what is going to happen, when, not to mention how. I love to-do lists, and the only think I like better than listing tasks is crossing them off. Maybe prioritizing, because that’s actually fun, especially if I get to play with highlighters.

Life, especially the writing life, doesn’t always work that day. Sometimes, the nonwriting life takes a good long look at a writer and says, “Writer, you are now officially my puching bag.” Whompity whompity whomp. Nonwriting life can have a mean left hook. Domestic tornado chains whip through what should be a fairly productive writing day. Sick family members, financial hiccups, domestic duties that require immediate attention, lest the universe implode, and the like are not going to take a break because we’re making good time on the work in progress, or a blog post due.

Which is where today’s ramble comes in. Yesterday had its challenges, and there was no way on earth I was going to give up my time with Her Last First Kiss, so Monday’s post got moved to Tuesday. I probably had some vague notion (or maybe a not so vague one) about what I wanted to cover in this blog post. Something about notebooks, maybe? A Camp NaNo update? How much fun it is to be splashing around in the shallows of a new book, and then, without meaning to, diving down deep and finding ohhhhhh, that’s why that thing was in that scene. I may not have known what I was doing at the time my hero picked up a china dog in a shop (and a scene I didn’t plan), as a gift for the heroine, but he did, and that’s what matters. He knew she would like it, even if I had no earthly idea, bu a few chapters later, when she finally admits a Deep Secret she will only trust to him, it all makes sense.

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We’ve been in our current home for about two and a half years now, Real Life Romance Hero and Housemate and Skye and I , and only recently did I finally get around to employing an arty idea I’d had while apartment hunting. I’ve tried scrapbooking, and it’s really not for me, but I love mixed media art, and anything even remotely notebook-related. About a week or so ago, I took out the map we’d used in finding our home, so that I could memorialize the search with art. I covered the cardboard box that my new computer cord came in with part of that map, and now use it to store pens and a small notebook. Easily portable, unique and personal. It reminds me of the writing desk the hero of Her Last First Kiss counts as his most prized posession. His is wood, not cardboard, far more durable than what I have, and he sure as anything wouldn’t have made it himself (carpentry is not his thing) but the connection, that’s there, and it’s strong. Through all of his travels, my hero counts his writing desk as his true home, and I can relate to that.

Today has been one of those punching bag days. Yesterday was another. This post exists because I don’t like having to push back Wednesday’s post because I haven’t yet done Monday’s post, and because posting is one thing I can control when nonwriting life starts lobbing stuff at me. Sit down at the keyboard and blabber about writing? I can do that. I may not know the exact topic when I set out on the journey, but that’s okay. I know how to write. I’ll get there.

So it is with the art and discipline of writing a book. It’s been a while since I’ve had a hero and heroine talk to me this clearly ( things,perhaps, only other writers will understand) amd I am not going to squander that. Maybe I don’t know where we’re going for a particular session, but I trust them. I trust that I know how to write a book. I’ve done it before. I can do it again. I am doing it now. Sometimes, we need to make the maps while we explore, then follow them later.

Typing With Wet Claws: Special Easter Monday Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for a special Monday edition of Typing With Wet Claws. I am blogging for Anty today because she is taking a mental health day. So far today, she has cleaned throwup twice (only one was mine, but I did try to eat it again. She would not let me.) and poop once (that was mine, but I did not try to eat it) and both Mama and Uncle are at home when they were meant to be at work. Mama is resting now, to get over her tummy bug,  and Uncle got his shift changed, so that pretty  much took care of Anty’s plans to have a productive day of writing at home.

That does not mean that she will not have a productive day, or that she will not write. Anty has a lot of notebooks, and is even now deciding which ones (plural) she will take with her when she heads outfor the day. She does not have a plan at this point, and I must admit her occasional cackles give me some pause (I already have paws. Four of them.) because that is not a sound I her very often, but Uncle convinced her that it will be best for everybody if she heads out for a while. Uncle likes to putter, which is not always compatible with Anty writing in the living room. Her other plan today was to work on organizing the office while listening to Paper Towns, but that would be too noisy, as the office shares a wall with her and Uncle’s bedroom.

Anty calls days like this well-filling days. That means she needs to take in new things so that she will have more to draw from when she writes. I have seen  her try to write when she does not take in enough, and it is not a pretty sight. This day away from the keyboard (well, mostly. I know my Anty.) will be good for everybody. She mentioned something about going to the park to look for ducks, and I did see her putting her camera in her big purse. The computer is probably staying home today, unless she comes back to get it and write at the coffee house, which she might do.

Normally, Anty likes to have a plan for her days. She will make a list of things that need to be done on a given day, usually over breakfast, and pick which one is the most important, then do that one first. Then she picks the next most important, and so on. Sometimes, things get carried over to the next day, but a day without plans does not happen all that often, especially on her own. Today, though, it is necessary, not only for staying away from sick and/or cranky people, but making sure she does not become one of them herself.

Schroedinger's bunny?

Schroedinger’s bunny?

In other news, yesterday was Easter, which means Anty gave Uncle an Easter basket. The foil wrapped chocolate bunny is important. Anty learned that the hard way, after we had to hand off at least four (I could not count higher than that, since I was counting on my paws) naked chocolate bunnies from the freezer to our former downstairs neighbor when we moved. Uncle does not like unwrapped bunnies, and Anty does not care for chocolate that much, but didn’t want to throw away perfectly good food items, so they lived in the freezer. Some of them, for a very long time.

Every basket also has to have a stuffed animal. This year, it was Cadbury Bunny. Very nice of him to come wearing a name tag, and he brought snacks. Anty and Uncle put him on the floor so that I could meet him (they are very good with that) but I am confused. This bunny talks. He makes chicken sounds. He does not move, but he does talk, and I am not sure if he is alive or not. Still figuring that one out, but Anty and Uncle seem to like him a lot, so I will follow their lead.

That ends this special entry. I will see you all on Friday, so until then, I remain very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

See you Friday....

See you Friday….

Typing With Wet Claws: Under the Weather Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday.  This has been a big week, mostly because of two things. The first thing is that Anty got sick, and the second thing is that we got snow.

Anty almost never gets sick, but this time, she did. Part of her feeling bad is the thing she calls a bug (I can understand that. I had fleas a long time ago, and I hated that) and part of it is that because of that bug, she cannot have a lot of the things that are good for humans when they are sick and it is cold out. No tea, no orange juice, no soup, no spicy foods. I am glad I eat cat food. That is much easier to figure out.

The one good thing about Anty being sick (please do not tell her I said this, because she might think I am happy when she is sick, and I am not) is that she is at home all of the time. I like having my favorite humans around, and when Anty is on her glowy box, like she is even on sick days, I can sit near her and feel very safe and content. Today, she is painting her claws. I love the smell of claw paint.

Most of the time, though, she is writing in a notebook or on the glowy box.  On Monday, she watched Sleepy Hollow and recapped it for Heroes and Heartbreakers. It is here and looks lie this:

Yowling humans can be entertaining...
Yesterday, she had her planner and calendar and some Sharpies (which also smell very interesting to a kitty) because it was time to update her Coming Soon page.  She will be participating in 31 Days & 31 Ways to Jumpstart Your Life, in March, writing one of the daily posts.  Her topic will be creativity. She will tell you more about that when it gets closer to March.

On Valentine’s Day (very appropriate for a romance writer,) she will be presenting On Beyond Fanfic, the updated and in person version of her From Fan Fiction to Fantastic Fiction workshop, at Capitol Region Romance Writers. She really loves doing this workshop, and is excited to present it live. I think that may be why she has been watching a lot of DVDs and taking notes this past week.

It may also be because she is grumpy over not being able to get out and have fun in the snow. Snow is her favorite weather, and we got it two times this week. One of those times is today, and it is not done yet.  She says she is going to go out and take pictures (and get pizza and tea) as soon as she is better, but she did get one picture on the day it was supposed to snow a lot and only snowed some. Since I am an indoor kitty, and the windows are up high, I have to take her word on this, but this is what it looked like outside our house. Is that a lot of snow? I would not know, as I have never been out in it.

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That is about it for this week.  As you can imagine, there is a lot for a kitty to do when their human is under the weather, especially in more ways than one. I think I will take a nap by the heater to restore myself, because a kitty’s work is never done.

Until next week, I remain very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

Throwback Thursday: Daddy’s Girl?

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I don’t have a date for this book cover, Dad is no longer with us, so I can’t ask, but Amazon says the book was published in 1962. That’s definitely in the pre-Anna days, when I was not yet a glint in my biological father’s eye.

Since I’m adopted, I don’t share any DNA with my father,  Rudolph J. Carrasco, but one place where we always had a shared interest was art. Dad was always a working artist through my entire life, both in the commercial field (family friends say he did several book covers around the same time he did Party of Dreamers) and his own original art.  As a very small child, I remember seeing him paint over a family portrait of our neighbors (the parents had emigrated from Scotland, which may have been an early contributor to my love of the UK) and not understanding what he was doing, but fast forward a few decades, and we call that mixed media art now. I’ve slapped paint over more than a few pictures myself in my day.

Since the statute of limitations is likely over by now, I can freely confess to sneaking into his studio as a wee sprog and making off with his supplies, always careful to put them back exactly where I found them (paper excepted, and I always remembered where the good stuff was.) I asked him for art instruction. He declined. That may have been for the best, as my taste and his didn’t have a lot of common ground, but, in his later years, he loved when I brought him art magazines while he had hid dialysis treatments, and asked to keep a special issue of Somerset Studio devoted to color theory.  Though we had our differences, some of them large, I’m glad we had art in common.

 

 

Sicko, pt 2

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If I can’t blend in, I may as well be who I am.
–Rainbow Rowell

Two days ago, I ran out of socks. The list of things I want most in life is as follows, in constantly shifting order:

  1. Tea
  2. pizza
  3. orange juice
  4. soup
  5. full use of my entire mouth, including but not limited to :
    • ability to wear lipstick again :pets lipsticks:
    • ability to brush teeth without having to work around large dome-shaped crust on lower iip.
    • expressions of affection to Real Life Romance Hero

Please note that “socks” is not on that list because I dragged myself out to the laundromat this morning and did a load, while listening to recordings from last year’s RWA Nationals. Also free writing while doing both of the above. Even under the weather, multitasking makes me happy.

This post was originally going to be another dip into the archives, with a continuation of my Duluth post, but it’s a big file and would need to be split into two posts, and I’m cranky. See item #1 on the list above. So, instead, I’m going to ramble.

Today’s quote comes from the fabulous Rainbow Rowell, and it fits with my current area of self-directed study. Today’s picture comes from my write-in with SueAnn Porter on Monday.  Since we both compose in longhand, we left the laptops at home and instead brought our notebooks. SueAnn worked with one. I brought three, because my brain was all scattered, unfocused and prone to wandering off without me.

SueAnn suggested that our first writing sprint would be brain dumping, which I sometimes call bloodletting, spewing whatever is in my head onto the page. That went in the black hardcover Picadilly, and I’d planned to use my black Pilot Varsity fountain pen for that exercise, but pen had other ideas, and my first page has a small, interestingly shaped blob of ink in the middle. I ended up using a different pen.

Note the absence of tea and presence of a can of seltzer with a straw sticking out of it.  The cookie, though labeled as “cookies and cream” was actually red velvet (thank you, Jess-the-Barista, for clearing that up; red velvet makes anything better) and ended up coming home with me, because with the writing and the talking, some things have to take a back seat.

The Abbington Park notebook did not get used in this session, as SueAnn suggested I face my hesitation about working on Her Last First Kiss by doing some character work . Maybe, she suggested, I’m balking at this particular jump because the themes strike too close to home. There is some truth to that. Granted, I do not live in the eighteenth century, am not a member of the nobility and Real Life Romance Hero and I have been happily ever aftering for some time now, so my love life is not as tumultuous as my characters’ romantic prospects.

The thing, though, is that, without knowing it, I had seeded this book with some personal issues. Not fitting into one’s family of origin? Yep, know that. Caregiving? Know that, too. This book isn’t about me; it’s about my hero and heroine, and those really are their issues, and it would change the story into something else entirely were I to take those aspects out and give my people other hurdles to overcome.  Well, okay, then. Guess we’re doing this.

Knowing what the roadblocks are doesn’t make them go away, but it does make it possible for me to look at them head on and see how to climb over or dig under them.  It’s not a bad thing. Part of that wandering around in the forest time was spent trying, often too hard, to write things to which I did not have a close personal attachment, and that went down in flames, so going to the other end of the spectrum seems like a logical step to take.

Maybe it’s a good thing SueAnn and I had this talk while my brain took frequent mini-vacations without me, because at the end of most of our sprints, I had pen (blue Pilot Varsity) in hand, scratching across the mottled ivory of the page, spelling out how my hero got from adorable cherub child to grown man with seriously warped self image, and responded with, “Really? Already? Are you sure?” and kept making a few more quick notes. Not a bad outcome, that. We’re going to have to have more write-ins like this, but next time, the cold sore is not invited.

 

Sicko

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For most of the last few days, I have been a lump under the blanket in the recliner. On Thursday night, I felt a suspicious tingle on my bottom lip. I’ve had enough of those to know what that meant: cold sore.

I hate cold sores. They’re painful. They’re  ugly. They sap my energy. They present a lot of complications for a lipstick loving tea drinker who was looking forward to pizza on Friday night. Until the scab drops, it’s goodbye to all of that and hello to ibuprofen and ointment and a brain whose new hobby is flitting off without me. In a word, not fun. Okay, those were two words.

Because I am me, the need to rest took a while to sink in. Friday, I did laundry and then hied myself off to the local CVS because all the ibuprofen in our house had expired last month. Saturday, I decided that I was feeling up to running the weekly errands with Housemate. I found out fairly quickly into that trip that I was not. I take some comfort in knowing I was mildly entertaining, and that I did have the presence of mind to replace toothbrush and two out of three lip products.

The adventure of Saturday errands over, I retreated to my recliner and blankey, played the Sims 4 game time demo until I’d exhausted the time allotted (will probably get the game with the next computer, but it’s a bit much for the current machine, as well as a more cartoony game than I generally like) watched DVDs, napped a lot, and wrote.

Today, I’m venturing out, ahead of the big snowstorm barreling our way, to meet SueAnn Porter for a write-in. I’m going to miss the tea, mightily, and spend my time sucking seltzer or iced tea, if I can make myself order that when it’s eleven degrees out and we will be buried under a blanket of white by nightfall. I have no idea what I’m actually going to be writing today.  Hopefully something Her Last First Kiss related, but if it ends up as freewriting or something else, that’s okay, too. I’m allowed a partial sick day.

Even when I feel like horse poop that’s been crushed by a steamroller, there’s still that part of me that wants to drag out of the energy-free sludge and head off to story world, because that’s my natural environment. So, the HLFK notebook goes into my bag, along with a fountain pen, because writing with those always feels like a special treat, and I’m going to give it a go. Total crash time afterwards, at least until it’s time to recap tonight’s Sleepy Hollow, but tomorrow could be a sick day and a snow day at the same time. Which I will probably spend writing. There could be worse things. Not being able to have hot chocolate while having a sick day and a snow day at the same time may be one of those, but I think I will live. There is something to be said for anticipation.

Typing With Wet Claws: Explaining the Writer Brain Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday.

The humans say the new year is now underway, but it has been for the last week or so, so I think they need to pay better attention to their calendars. Anyway, this week has been cold. Thankfully, I have a built in full length fur coat, and I am an indoor kitty, so I did not have to go outside. My humans did, every day, and they were not always happy about it, but they are happy to come home to a warm apartment, and, of course, to me.

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One good thing about  the weather being this cold and sometimes snowy is that it inspires Anty to hunker down and get some writing done.  This is what her current desktop screen looks like. She picked this picture because it is very similiar to the cover of the calendar on the wall of her office, but will probably change the desktop a few times before she finds something that feels really right. The important thing here was to put the Christmas desktop away until it is Christmas again. She is always a little sad to see her favorite time of the year come to an end, but it is my job to remind her that this means the start of a new year, and Valentine’s Day is coming very soon. Valentine’s day is a very important day for romance writers.

Also important is when Anty has a new post at Heroes and Heartbreakers, and this Monday, she did. She is very glad this was her week to recap Sleepy Hollow, because a lot happened, for three different ships (I am still not sure how ships fit into this kind of show, but they do not tell kitties these things.) Her post is here and looks like this:

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There have been a lot of domestic tornadoes this week, but Anty is not letting that distract her from getting ready for the new book. I can tell she is working hard at this because sometimes, she does not seem to be all there. Writers’ pets, you know what I mean. If you are not a writer’s pet (or a writer’s human) then I will explain.

Sometimes, your writer may get so deep into their book, especially when they are getting ready to make their first draft, that part of their brain will stay there, even when they are doing other things. Even when they are doing important other things, like ordering tea or making human food. Ask them a question that they should be able to answer easily, but all the answer that gets is a confused look, something that sounds like “huh?” and maybe a quick mumble before they start getting antsy (like I do before I have to, um, defend my family against the Green Chair of Evil.) At that point, it is best to accept the inevitable. Your writer has a new book brewing, and they are going to be spending a good deal of their time talking to the people who live in their heads. Anty says it is more a case of making sure the people in her head talk to her. Either way, the people in Anty’s head live several  hundred years in the past, so it makes sense that it takes her some time to get back to the rest of us. As long as she can still open the bag of treats, I am okay with that.

Anty's typical view

Anty’s typical view

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)

Typing With Wet Claws: Happy New Year Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for the first Feline Friday of 2015.

First of all, thank you to all who read my entries. Today’s picture is me, getting ready to blog. I give these posts a lot of thought because I want to do a good job. I am glad that my readers think that I do.

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The big news today is that Anty can confirm she has destinked my notebook.  She is very happy about that. Even Uncle, who has a super sniffer (for humans; cats are still better at smelling than he is. Nothing personal. It is a fact.) cannot smell my contribution. It is good to be off the hook for this one. Anty has learned she really cannot leave any of her notebooks on the floor, so even she has learned something from this experience.

Two things, really. One, not to leave books near my pee spot, no matter how tired she is, and two, how to destink a notebook doused in cat piddle. In case you want to know how, it is easy.

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  1. Put the stinky book in a big Ziploc bag; it must be the kind that zips closed. Ties or flaps will not work, because this must be airtight. Anty says it’s worth going for the brand name on this.
  2. Pour baking soda into the bag. Use a lot. You should be able to see a couple inches of it in the bottom of the bag.
  3. Squeeze all the air out and zip the bag all the way shut.
  4. Keep it shut for about a week.
  5. Every day during that week, shake the bag about twice a day, so the baking soda gets all over the notebook, in between all the pages.
  6. At the end of the week, open the bag. Take the book out and shake it over the trash, to get any excess baking soda out.
  7. Smell the book. Does it still smell like kitty piddle? If it does not, your book is saved. If not, you may want to put it back in the bag and throw it out. Then buy a new book.

Anty also tried this on the notebook that got soaked by her water bottle, and this trick got rid of that smell, too.

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She says that saving two notebooks she thought were lost for sure starts the year off on a good note. I think she is right. Now we will know what to do if this ever happens again. I do not think that it will (at least not the part about my pee place) but at least there is a protocol in place.

Happy 2015

Happy 2015

i think that is it for now, so happy new year to everybody. See you next week.

Until then, I remain very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

Plannering

annabowling 2 Comments

Monday’s entry on Wednesday, that’s not too bad. Last time this year I’ll be off schedule, I promise. Since today is New Year’s Eve, I am fairly certain I can keep that promise. As for the year ahead, well, that’s still an open -and unwritten- book. Actually, a few of them.

2014 was one of the interesting years, and I am not sorry to see it go. 2015 is full of opportunity. I intend to make the best of it. Not making resolutions this year. Goals, yes. Making those, and keeping track of things in notebooks and planners is definitely part of that.

Though 2014 had its surprises, one of the good ones was me falling in love with Paperblanks notebooks, via my 2014 planner. That’s the green one above, reproduced from a 19th century French silk textile design (I would so get the regular notebook in that design, but I’m picky about closures, and the closure on the pocket size makes no sesnse) It’s paired with my 2015 planner, in my new Paperblanks design crush, the silver filigree, aka “The Precious.”

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That’s the entire Precious family to date – planner is in onyx, aka Badass Precious because it’s the tough one. Baby Boy Precious is the blue one, and the first one to come  home; I knew right away that was to be the pocket notebook for the new historical, and started it as such. That is going to get a small adjustment as his sister (yes, some of my notebooks have genders) Baby Girl Precious was my Christmas gift to me. I wasn’t sure what to do with her at first, but getting the whole family together, it became clear; Baby Boy gets hero notes and Baby Girl gets heroine notes. Appropriate, because one of my goals (see, goals, not resolutions) is to know the hero and heroine of this book inside out so I do not flounder and we do not end up blinking at each other halfway through the book and wander off in our separate directions. That is so last year. Last several, actually, but moving right along…

The ultimate goal is to nab the desk sized version of Baby Boy, aka Big Daddy Precious. If there is a Big Mama Precious, she is, of course, welcome. Still needed a desk sized notebook because writing in pocket sized all the time makes my hands cramp, so in the meantime, I am drafting this lovely notebook that was a birthday present from my lovely housemate:

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This book -oh heck, the working title is Her Last First Kiss– is not an inspirational romance (it’s historical) but when the right notebook calls out, I am going to use that notebook. Colors coordinate with Baby Boy (and someday Big Daddy) so the association is easy to make.

But those are notebooks, not planners, even if what they mostly contain right now is plans for the 2015 book. Whatever works, right? Right now, I want to write in these with fountain pens, to which I am fairly certain I can become addicted to in short order. Appropriate for a historical writer, I say. Microns will do if I find myself without a fountain pen, but first choice right now is the Pilot Varsity.

As for calendars, this one will be adorning my office wall for the next twelve months:

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I knew I had to have it as soon as I saw it on the rack at Barnes and Noble, as it fit oh so well with the notebooks below:

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Different manufacturers, but same feel, and my brain says they all smell like baby powder, even though they do not. That would be the images smell like baby powder, not the notebooks.

For those wondering if I ever managed to destink Skye’s notebook, I am letting the baking soda sit for one extra day to be extra extra sure, and then finding out.

aoon, we will know...

aoon, we will know…

What planners/notebooks are starting out your new year?