Skye O’Malley

Typing With Wet Claws: Cat On a Hot Tin Everything Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. While Feline Fridays are, obviously, my normal days to blog, it almost feels like filling in for Anty, because this has been a very hot week. Anty does not do heat very well, so this means she has had to scale back some, which she does not like at all. Yesterday was very, very hot, so she took a flop day and concentrated on staying cool. I feel somewhat guilty about not offering her my flop space next to the big wooden thing outside my mama’s bedroom, but only a little, because that space is kitty sized. and Anty is bigger than that. Besides, I know how important it is for her to know that I am cool, so, really, my staying in my flop space was for the best.

Since the deal is that I have to talk about Anty’s writing first, her most recent Buried Under Romance post is here, and it looks like this:

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How far do you dig for your next great read?

Anty is very much looking forward to tomorrow, when she gets to go to her CRRWA meeting. There, she gets to be among others of her kind (by which I mean romance writers) and she will learn some new tricks for making her books even better. Miss K.A. (Mitchell) will talk about putting one’s characters to work. She will put Anty and the other humans to work, too, which Anty likes very much. Anty is also looking forward to seeing Miss N and Anty Sue Ann and her other friends. They will be happy to see her too, and hopefully not only because she brings snacks, but I am sure that is part of it. I am always happy when she feeds me, so I assume that would carry over to others. Anty talks with some of her writer friends on the glowy box pretty much every day, but it is different, being with other writers in person. Anty likes that best of all, especially when they talk about their stories and characters.

While some writers work best when they do not talk about their work, that is not how it goes for Anty. She needs to talk to process her thoughts. When Anty was a people kitten, the worst punishment (or most effective discipline, depending on whom one asks) her mama could give would be that Anty was not allowed to talk to her for a certain number of minutes. For a talker like Anty, that was excruciating, and she did learn that doing the things that earned her the periods of not-talking were usually not worth it.

That carries over to writing, too. Anty tried, for a while, to not-talk about her stories and characters, but what happened was that they did not feel real to her, and it was like moving paper dolls around a cardboard box stage. Anty tried not-talking after talking too much got one of her books (it was the time travel) all jumbled with too many other voices in her head, and she could not get through all those other voices to hear the characters anymore. Some of the too-many voices echoed very, very loudly, and she put the story on the back burner until those voices got quiet. They are not all quiet yet, so it needs to wait a little longer. If talking too much is bad, and not-talking at all is bad, then it means that there is some place in the middle that hits the right note.

For Anty, that means talking to only a few people, and trusting herself to know how much to share, and with whom. That is why, here, she will talk about Hero and Heroine, or Guy and Girl. Their names are still private at this stage. It is the same way that she cannot put her Pinterest boards or Spotify playlists for current projects where others can see them. Those need to stay private until the book is done, and Anty does not have to guard against the wrong things getting inside. She likes to keep her own vision clear. That is one of the reasons she does not especially like fantasy casting her stories. Her story people have their own faces already, and other people trying to tell her that her character looks like some other human vexes her. I do not know if these people do the same things with kitty characters, because Anty does not have any prominent kitty characters in either of her current projects. Hmph. Maybe the next one. If Anty ever writes a Viking story, then she  can have Norwegian Forest Cats. Those are the ancestors of Maine Coon Cats, which is what I am. So, if she needed a kitty model for the cover of that book, she would not have to look very far. Maybe that would make the writing process easier. I am a good mews and want to look out for my Anty’s peace of mind.

 

That is about it for this week, as it is very close to my lunchtime, so I need to stare at Anty (or Uncle, because he does not go out to hunt until later, but probably Anty) until she knows what time it is. I will report on what she learned from the workshop next week Unti then, I remain very truly yours,

 

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Until next week…

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

Typing With Wet Claws: Cat Days of Summer Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Anty is feeling a little under the weather right now (she does not do summer very well; that is why my blog entry is late today, but she will be fine with a little rest and a lot of water) so I may have more wiggle room for artistic expression here than I usually do. I still have to talk about her writing first, though, so let us get that done first.

Anty’s latest Saturday Discussion post at Buried Under Romance is about delayed gratification, so I thought about putting it at the end of today’s entry instead, but Anty reminded me which one of us can reach the treat shelf in the pantry, so it is in the regular place, which is here, and it looks like this:

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When you have a special book, can *you* wait for it?

This has been an interesting week around here. I am all done with my antibiotics, and, from the way I run when Anty rustles my treat bag, the humans are really sure the site of my butt explosion does not hurt me anymore. I did not need the cone of shame even once during my recuperation. Anty suggested that maybe she could put the cone of shame on a stuffed animal, because I was not going to need it but Uncle did not want her to do that. I have to side with Uncle on this issue. Well, really, on every issue. Uncle is my favorite; everybody knows that. Uncle also got a new people vet (the regular kind, not the emergency kind) this week, and he likes them very much. Anty and Mama did not have to fight very hard to get him into the carrier, and he takes his own pills. I admire his fortitude. That takes courage. Also opposable thumbs, which probably have something to do with said pill taking. Anty does have power to make executive decisions, though, so I am still not sure where the cone of shame is going to end up; as long as it is not on me, I do not really care.

Anyway, it has been an interesting  week for Anty’s writing, as well. She has had better production weeks, but that is okay. These things tend to balance out, and, for every day that is less than she would have liked, there is another day where it will go much more quickly. The important thing is to keep moving forward. On both projects, Her Last First Kiss, and the Beach Ball, Anty (and, in the case of the Beach Ball, Anty Melva) has reached milestones. Anty likes milestones. Those are markers of how far she has come, and remind her that she can make it to the next one, because she’s already made it this far. Anty does not normally count words while writing a draft, because that is too distracting, but she does have an outline, and seeing how far she is into the outline makes her happy. Maybe she can find or create some kind of chart so she can track  her progress that way. Anty loves organizing things, so I think she might like being able to see at a glance how much progress she is making, her way.

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When Anty’s story people hit a milestone, that means that they cannot go back to the way they had been before they hit that milestone, because they are different now, a sort of different that cannot be undone. At the very end, because these are romance novels, that is the biggest milestone; the humans have promised to be with each other forever, and they will never be all alone again. Before that, it is more of a matter of tracking the humans’ changes from who they thought they were (sometimes, who other humans told them they had to be) into who they really were all along.

Anty finds that kind of thing very interesting. A once-upon-a-time friend once said that all of Anty’s stories are about moving on after a loss, and that is true, because they (at least the ones that I have seen) are, and they are also about the humans finding out that they do not have to have somebody else tell them who they are; they can figure that out for themselves. That does not mean that all of Anty’s stories are the same, because they are not. Every human has their own individual challenges along the way, and when it is two unique humans, fighting their own battles, who find each other, well, that it what Anty finds the most interesting of all. Even during the cat days of summer. I know most people call them the dog days, but the only dog I know is Bailey, and he does the same thing I do; lie around and drink water, same as Anty wants to do on hot days. Also work on her stories. Some things never change.

Anty has also rallied enough to want the computer back, so that is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

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Until next week…

 

 

Typing With Wet Claws: Heart of a Storyteller, Hand of a Smurf Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Anty wanted me to get this post up early in the morning, but that is not what happened, for a couple of reasons. First, it is sometimes hard for Anty to get to sleep when it is hot and muggy (I do not have that problem, thankfully. I can sleep anytime.) Then, when she finally did (after helping Mama to give me my pill, which I do not like) she crashed, hard. Then she remembered she had a lot of things to do, the first of which was dealing with my stuff. All I will say is that I hit the trifecta today. It is a good thing Anty has puppy pads and Febreeze. Also, Anty had to do laundry, and, because it was late, it was while a lot of people were there, instead of no people, which makes for a different experience, and crabbier Anty. Anyway, if you are wondering why this is showing up in the afternoon instead of the morning, that is why.

Because part of our deal is that I have to talk about Anty’s writing first, I will do that now. She has been busy. First, her Buried Under Romance post on the struggle of getting into a book that isn’t quite working is here, and it looks like this:

 

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Anty loves when readers leave comments. She will even answer them.

 

Anty also wrote a review of a book she found very interesting, If I Fall, by Lauren Oliver. That book got Anty thinking about voice, emotion, and characterization, a lot. Her review is here and it looks like this:

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Yes, Anty is pondering how this could work in historical romance.

For actual fiction writing, this has been a good week, too, summerbrain not withstanding. On Tuesday, when Anty met with Miss N, Anty had the hands of a smurf, because she is still learning how to refill fountain pens. Also because she had a blueberry bagel, but, mostly, it was the ink. Not only did she get ink on her hands while filling her pen, but when she took off the cap, she shot a stream of inky blue water all the way across the table, because she had not gotten all of the water out when she rinsed the nib. I did not see that, because that was at Panera and I was at home, but there is a picture, so I will share that with you here:

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Heart of a storyteller, hand of a smurf.

Anty finds that writing in longhand is her very best way to get the ideas out of her head and into readable form. She is also very thankful that first drafts are supposed to be rough, because this one is. That is okay. She is laying down the foundation, and she can go back and make it pretty later (even though she likes to do the actual writing on pretty paper; you cannot see it much in this picture, but her paper is very pretty. The design is mostly on the borders, and her writing is in the middle.) Right now is when she follows her characters around and writes down what they do. This is not the time to be concerned about whether the language is entirely period specific, so it is okay if she has a character respond with “FML” after something very, very, very inconvenient happens. That is exactly what she did, actually; she can go back after the draft is done and translate that to its eighteenth century equivalent. She can also go back and figure out how Heroine’s very young half-sibling would address her in a letter, especially since English is not the half-sibling’s first language. That would be Russian, for those who were wondering.

Yesterday, Anty did remember her notes, and they amounted to a lot more than she thought that she did. She did not want to have to stop working on the book to take care of other things, but I have a very persuasive “feed me” face. Please refer to today’s picture, in case you have any doubts about that. There were other things she had to do, as well, including reading, because story in means story out, but I think it was mostly my “feed me” face, even though she was at the coffee house and I was at  home. My “feed me” face is that strong, trust me on this. Even so, Anty still has Hero and Heroine hanging around her brain, talking to her whether or not it is writing time. That is when she knows she has hit her stride and is on the right track.

Since Anty is making her “I need the computer” face at me, that should probably be about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

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Until next week…

 

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

Typing With Wet Claws: Autumn is Coming Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for my regular Feline Friday post. I would like to send out a big thank you to everybody who checked in to see how I have been doing since my big vet adventure last week. As you can see, I am not wearing the cone of shame, and my, um, stuff, has all been regular for the whole week. My humans have been shooting bad-tasting liquid into my mouth twice a day. They tell me it keeps infection away, which I do not fully understand, but they do feed me immediately after that, and I do understand food.

Since I am feeling much better now, Anty says I have to go back to talking about her writing first. This week, she is a little embarrassed (and by a little, I meant that she went down into the  neck of  her t-shirt like a turtle when she realized this and made a sound I am not sure I have heard before) that she did not post anywhere about her Buried Under Romance discussion post. She was excited about this topic, too, but then my butt exploded, which was pretty distracting for everybody, so I think she is allowed an oops on this one. In case you missed it, and you probably did, because she did not post anywhere, (but people who commented, you made Anty’s day) the discussion on treasures of the used bookstores is here and it looks like this:

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Apologies for the black part at the bottom. The crop tool is difficult to use when you have paws instead of hands.

 

This week, Anty has been hard at work on her turn with the Beach Ball. Anty Melva showed Anty the scene she had written, which made Anty take another look at her own scene, and want to change some things about it. Anty loves working with Anty Melva, so she does not mind, and then new scene will probably be better than the one she had originally written. It could have picked better timing, though, because Anty is feeling a little sluggish herself, something she gets when she is stressed and does not get enough sleep. She knows what to do when that happens, so there will be no cone of shame for her, either.

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Shoes like this are important in the Beach Ball’s story, so this picture may become a visual cue for when Anty talks about it. She is not sure about that yet. We will see.

 

As much as Anty likes playing with the Beach Ball, she is very eager to get back to Her Last First Kiss, which is going to require cracking open the old laptop, because that is the one with Scrivener on it, and Anty wants to preserve disk space on the new laptop. She is actually kind of paranoid about it, and cleans up extraneous files daily. By “kind of,” I mean “really, really, really.” She says she may crack in her resolve here and put Scrivener back on the new laptop, because the old one takes its time doing things, and she wants to keep the ball rolling.

Either way, Anty gets itchy when she spends too much time away from that story. One of the most important things she has learned on this long and winding road back to the active writing life, is that, the longer she is away from a project, the more challenging the road back will be. There have been times when the road has been so long and convoluted that she got so hopelessly lost that she might as well have ended up on the wrong continent. Her worst-worst nightmare in the really real world is to be stuck, alone, someplace from which she cannot get back on her own. The last few years have felt like that sometimes, and she is not willing to let that happen again. So, this time, she’s going to take steps to make sure that does not happen. Some of those steps, she is figuring out as she goes. This may be one of them.

I have faith in her, though, because I know a secret. Okay, it is not really a secret. Autumn is coming. That is the time of year when Anty gets her super powers back. As you may be able to tell in my picture, there is a floof on my neck. “Floof” is our family’s word for the bunches of fur I shed at one time. I always start around my neck, and when I start making neck floofs, that means I am going for the Big Shed. This time of year, it will mean shedding my sleek summer coat (well, as sleek as Maine Coons get; we are pretty fluffy all year round) and growing in my nice, warm winter coat. That will make me super fluffy.

Autumn also makes Anty super happy, because it is her favorite season (but when it is winter, she will say that is her favorite season. I think they take turns) not only because I start getting fluffier, the leaves turn pretty colors and fall on the ground, and there is pumpkin flavored everything (Anty loves pumpkin flavored everything) but because that is usually when Anty hits her stride and becomes more productive. Earlier this week, Anty spent an entire day piecing together everything she and Anty Melva have written on the Beach Ball, to see how far along they are.

Although Anty does not like to count words when she is drafting, Anty Melva wanted to know how far they were, so she found out. She was super impressed. They have already written a bunch and are well on their way. They wrote more than Anty thought they had; a lot more, actually. Now it is her job to finish this scene and send it to Anty Melva, so that they can be even further along. She knows what her next scene, after Anty Melva’s next scene, is going to be, so she can work on that one, too.

Her next scene for Her Last First Kiss is one of her favorites so far, so she is very eager to get deeper into that and add more layers. Since the vet said that the other part of my butt is not looking explodable, I think it is safe to say I am not putting any obstacles in the way of that scene for this coming week. which means that is pretty much it for this week. Until next week, I remain, very truly yours,

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Until next week…

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

Typing With Wet Claws: Special Exploding Catbutt Edition

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Hello, all, Skye here, for a special Monday edition of Typing With Wet Claws, because this weekend was all about me. What was supposed to happen was that Mama was going to get in the people carrier and go spend the weekend with Grandma, while Anty was going to stay home and get current on her reading. Uncle is the only one who did what he had planned, and went to work, which was a good thing, because this weekend was expensive. The fancy vet term for what happened to me is “ruptured anal gland,” but we will call it what it is: my butt exploded. I am fine now, which is why I am able to tell you about it, and Anty says I do not even have to talk about her writing first this time. This post may contain descriptions of gross things that come out of kitties, so if you are squeamish, know that I am fine, and will see you Friday.

For those who are still reading,  here is what really happened. Mama had noticed I was more interested in my own butt than usual for a day or two, but I am a tough girl and did not let anybody know I was not feeling my very best. Then, on Saturday morning, a couple of hours before Mama was supposed to get in the people carrier, I made my usual puddle in my usual place. Anty told me what a good girl I was, like she usually does (because I usually am) and then she noticed a glop of something else next to it. She put pads down on my puddle (they are called puppy pads, but they work on kitty puddles, perfectly fine) and then got a tissue to pick up the glop. At first, she thought it was throwup, but she hadn’t heard me throw up, so it could not be that. She examined the tissue, and thought it looked like blood. She showed it to Mama, who thought it looked like blood, too.

That was when Mama picked me up and Anty looked at my butt. Yes, the blood was coming from me, even though I did not act like I was in pain. (I told you, I am a tough girl.) That was when they knew there would be a big change in plans. Mama called some vets, to see if who could look at me that same day, and she found one, who is now my regular vet, because everybody liked her. I acted like my normal self all morning. I followed Uncle around, asked for food, flopped in my sunbeam, and even tried to get some of the blood off by myself. The humans were not entirely sure I should be doing that, so Anty kept an eye on me while Mama made sure Uncle got to work. Then Mama came home and she and Anty put me in the cat carrier, which then went in the people carrier (humans call this a “car.”) Anty held my carrier in her lap the whole time and talked softly to me, because I like soft voices. That kind of helped, but I still knew where we were going.

When we got to the vet’s waiting room, there were a lot of other pets. There was a chocolate Lab puppy (they did not have a tail, but they did have a waggly butt anyway) and a huge brindle and white pit bull who did have a tail; it was waggly, too. His papa told Anty and Mama that he loves coming here, until they go in the back. I think that is a smart pit bull. There was also a curly orange dog, who wanted to be friends with the pit bull. I was very interested in what they were doing, but I stayed in my carrier.

Until, of course, we got in the back. The vet tech took me out of my carrier and put me on a soft blankey so I would not be cold on the table. She also told me how pretty I am. She is very smart. She asked Mama and Anty if I was there because of my bloody butt, and Anty said she thought I might have had a ruptured anal gland. The vet tech checked and said that is exactly what happened. Then the vet came, to double check and to decide what I needed. I got a shot and some pills (they are liquid; Mama and Anty have to team up to get me to take them) and the vet told them how to put warm compresses on my butt to make it feel better. I am a tough girl, so I do not always tell them. The compresses will also tell them how the site is doing; I might have blown all the gunk at once, and now only need to heal. One of the pills is in case I do have any pain, and the other is an antibiotic. The pain pill makes me a little sleepy, so I get extra naps, which I do not mind.

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Me at the vet. Can you tell the blankey has a dog bone design?

The vet also gave me a cone of shame, in case I started going at my butt again, like I did before. So far, I have not. Mama says we already paid for the cone, but it does not look like I am going to need it. I do not know what they are going to do with it if I don’t. Maybe I can be a kitty martini for Halloween. The top picture is from when the vet tech showed Anty how to put the cone on me. Now she knows. This concerns me. Anty did distract me while we waited for the vet tech to come back, though, by playing me relaxing music on her phone, and showing me a movie she made, about ducks swimming. I was very interested in that movie, until I realized the ducks were doing the same thing over and over. Anty should make longer duck movies, next time. I am not into short films.

Anty says it is time to wrap things up, because I am perfectly fine, and she needs the computer. She is right. I am eating and socializing and asking for attention, and am even a good girl for my pills and butt compresses. Mama says I have an expensive butt, but everybody agrees that I am worth it. Until next time, I remain, very truly yours

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See you Friday….

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

Typing With Wet Claws: Factory Reset Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. It is still very hot and muggy out, so I am coming to you today from my super cool and comfy flop space in the dining room. I do not know why they call it the dining room, because that is not where my dish is. My dish is in Mama’s room, and I am such a good girl that, last year, when it was hot, and Uncle tried to feed me in the living room, I would not do it. I looked at him, all sad and confused, and showed him where my food goes. Because he is smart, he moved it to the right place and then I could eat. So, I do not know why the humans call this the dining room, but it is where I flop when I want to stay cool, but the humans walk through my hallway too much.

Anyway, Anty’s rule is that I have to talk about her writing first, so her most recent Buried Under Romance post is  here, and it looks like this:

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The parts in the black lines will only look like that if you are on Anty’s computer right now. Which you should not be. Use your own, please and thank you.

 

This past week, Anty talked about the different kinds of romance novels with American settings. She only now remembers that Janet Dailey wrote a series with books set in all fifty states, but that is not very useful when she wrote the discussion post last week. That is okay, though, because this has been a week with a lot of things to distract her. First, she twisted her ankle early on Monday morning, while she was getting dressed and Uncle was asleep. Since I am a kitty, and have a built-in fur coat, I do not fully understand the whole getting dressed thing, but it did remind Anty why she prefers dresses to pants. She has never hurt herself while putting on a dress. She did not get hurt very badly, only a little, and still made her meeting with Miss N. She is walking fine now, which is a good thing, because this has been a week where Anty has to do a lot of things.

Maybe the biggest thing was the time her computer exploded. Or imploded. Not literally, in either case, but there Anty was, talking to Miss H, when her screen began to flicker wildly and then go completely black. Anty may or may not have said some bad words when that happened. I am not allowed to say, in either case, so that I may retain some semblance of paws-ible deniability. Anyway, Anty got her computer to work again, and then, when she was about to post Monday’s blog on Tuesday, (the ankle thing took up a good chunk of Monday) it would not post. She checked the memory, since it had been in the red for quite some time and there it was, the dreaded zero. No room left at all.

After several tries of deleting programs to make enough room to do a system refresh, Anty called in Uncle to help. Uncle knows the signs of an impending Anty meltdown, and took over. He told her the only thing they could do was make the computer the same as it was when she first took it out of the box, and she said that was fine. Maybe it was the heat that contributed to her not freaking out about that, but she had learned to keep all her files on a jump drive, so she was pretty calm about the whole deal, and went off to read The Walking Dead graphic novel while Uncle did what had to be done. That is her comfort read; a book with pictures of zombies. I do not always understand Anty’s choices in these matters, but it works, and it worked this time.

The last two days, Anty has met her writing goals, although she does not have Word or Scrivener installed on her laptop at present. She has been using Word Pad and Google Docs, and that seems to work fine for where she is right now. She has been working on both Her Last First Kiss and the Beach Ball, and had a Skype conference with Anty Melva, to plan out the next few Beach Ball exchanges. That is pretty smooth for a week that started out with injury and computer meltdowns, complicated by weather that can best be described as “giant crock pot.” Anty is still not sure what is up with all of that, but she will probably figure it out soon. At the very least, she has managed to get some reading time in, and that is a very big help. I like to help her by sitting directly under her foot rest, so that she can’t put it down, and thus must remain in her comfy chair, with book, notebook or laptop. One of the many duties of a mews, even if my flop spaces are cooler.

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

i1035 FW1.1

Until next week…

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

Typing With Wet Claws: Too Darned Hot Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Even though I am the one with the built-in fur coat, Anty  is the one most affected by the heat. Uncle had a rough day, too, yesterday, and even Mama has been feeling sluggish, and she is usually the hardiest in this weather. Before I am allowed to talk about anything else, I have to talk about Anty’s writing first, so we will do that now.

Anty’s most recent Buried Under Romance post is here, and it looks like this:

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Do you like to go fast or slow?

Summertime has never been Anty’s favorite time of year, because it is very hot and bright, and she is sensitive to both of those things. That means that, for most of the summertime, staying inside, in front of the box fan, during the day is the smart thing to do. Thankfully, since Anty is a writer, this actually works in her favor. Well, apart from the whole lack of energy thing. Do not worry, though; when autumn comes, Anty will get her superpowers back. She is not willing to wait for a couple more months to get to the top of her game, and so she has to make a couple of adjustments here.

Since Anty is a morning person, getting up super early helps. It is still cool in the morning, and  her brain is all fresh from sleep. The house is quiet, too, so it is the perfect time for her to write her morning pages. She is excited to start a new morning pages book, and has settled on the Papaya! Art spiral bound book for her next round of morning pages. If you have missed that post, (it is here) that book looks like this:

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She still does not know what pens she will use for that, but that is okay. She will know what to use when the time comes, and admits that she will probably have to do an ink test, even though she doesn’t want to make any mistakes on a book this special. Come to think of it, she feels the same way about the books she is writing, but there, too, she is learning to make adjustments.

Miss H, one of Anty’s writer friends, reminds Anty that nobody ever has to see a scene if Anty really thinks it is, um…stuff, (Miss H did not say “stuff.” I am using it as a euphemism for what she really said.) but Anty does have to write it. Anty is very tempted to say bad words to Miss H when Miss H says this, but she settles for saying the same thing right back to Miss H when it is Miss H’s turn. That is the important thing. It is okay to write the scene while scared of writing that scene. Getting even the roughest version out of the brain and onto the page or screen is what is important here. There will be time to make it pretty later, but nothing can be done if there is nothing on the page. Anty finds that it can be difficult to get over perfectionism, but it is also necessary. Sometimes, that is the biggest part of the battle, and once there is something, anything, on the page, then the rest comes easily.

This week, Anty has been working on both Her Last First Kiss, and the Beach Ball, although not as quickly as she might like. As I mentioned above, it has been very hot, and there has been a lot of humidity. I usually find a doorway with good air flow (the bathroom hallway is the best, because there are no windows, the floor is linoleum (or would that be lion-oleum, because it is comfy for kitties?) and, if I am in the right spot, I can catch breezes from the living room fan, Anty and Uncle’s bedroom fan, and stay in direct line of sight of the pantry door, which is where the humans keep my food and treats.

Even though Anty is most dominant, she is too big to flop in a doorway, and so she has to take other measures. Her comfy chair is in front of the living room fan, and the master bedroom door can close, keeping all the cool air inside. Her office even  has a ceiling fan, so that gives her another place she can work comfortably, even when it is not a good idea for her to go outside even the short distance to the coffee house. Even so, there are some days when it is flat out (and I am flat, even though I am inside) too disgusting to brain.

Anty is learning that, when it is difficult to put out, then it is time to take in. Because her body loses water, salt and potassium when the weather is hot, then she needs to put those things back into it by what she eats and drinks. The same way, since she puts out story when she writes, she needs to take story in between writing sessions. Reading is the best way, in her genre and out of it, to both stay grounded in why she loves what she loves and to inject some new energy into what she’s already doing.

 

Sometimes, the shift happens when Anty is not even looking for it. Today, while doing laundry (she went very early, so she could be there and back before it got too hot) Anty read a chunk of one of the books she got from the library earlier this week, and, when it came time to read the next chapter, she took out her mini notebook from her pen pouch to make a couple of quick notes. Yeah, Anty, those pages are more than a couple of notes, but that is exactly the point. Keeping one’s well filled means there will be enough to draw from when the time comes.

Anty says that time has come now  (also for my lunch, so there’s that) so that is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

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Until next week…

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling

 

 

 

 

Typing With Wet Claws: Happy Cat-nada Day Edition

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Hello all, Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Because this is a holiday, I am allowed to wish all who celebrate a happy Canada Day. We are not Canadian, but we live far enough north in New York, that some of the street signs tell us how to get to Montreal.  At the bodega across the street, we can buy Canada Dry ginger ale (well, a lot of other places, too) and once, we got all dressed potato chips there, which are popular in Canada. Anty probably knows more about the Degrassi franchise than an American of her, um, vintage, should, especially the original cast version. She also likes reading books by Canadian authors like Mary Balogh, Virginia Henley, Marsha Canham, and the late Jo Beverley. Maybe she needs to do some remedial reading of said authors, in celebration. Maybe while eating poutine, because some local restaurants have that on the menu. We have some Canadian neighbours (note Canadian spelling, please) we could invite to join us:

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I think some of these birdies are bigger than me.

 

Holiday wishes conveyed, Anty’s latest post on Buried Under Romance is all about the covers on romance novels. This can be a very heated topic, especially as trends in cover art, and the mediums in which said trends are executed, are constantly changing. What kinds of covers do you like or not like to see? Anty would love to know. Her post is here, and it looks like this:

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What does your ideal romance cover look like?

Even though Anty is not Canadian, she is celebrating vicariously today. It is always nice to be happy for one’s neighbors, so there is that. Besides being close enough to the border for some things to dribble down, Anty has a writer friend she talks to through the glowy box, who is Canadian, and she would like for her friend to have a nice day. Hero and Heroine have a Canadian connection, too, which means that Anty has to learn new things about what Canada was like in the time Her Last First Kiss takes place.

One thing she already knows ties in with her rabid Anglophilia, and her own connection to the Revolutionary era. The part of New York where Anty spent her people kittenhood had a lot of British sympathizers still living there when the war was over. As you can imagine, that was not the best place for them to be, so going someplace else was in their best interests. Many of them made the trip north, and began new lives in Canada. That is something some of Hero’s relatives do, in Her Last First Kiss, and something Anty has always found very interesting. She has visited a museum that has (probably a replica of) a document that announced the date all British subjects/sympathizers needed to be gone from that town (since the British army did burn down the whole town at one point during the war, I can see where there might be some bad blood going on there.)  That was one of those moments that sent a jolt of electricity through her writerblood. Anty says it was like touching history, to read that. She can only imagine what it must have been like to actually see the notice nailed up  in person, and know that the people the notice addressed would mean her and her family. Maybe that will be in a story someday.

Anty actually has been to Canada, once, when she was a tiny people kitten. Anty’s mama’s anty (and several other relatives) lived in Dunkirk, NY, and Anty’s parents took her there for a visit. Since they were close enough to the Canadian border, they took a day trip to bring Anty to the Canadian side of Niagra Falls. One of Anty’s mama’s relatives thought it would be funny to tell Anty (remember, she was a very tiny people kitten when this happened) that visitor to Niagra Falls had to go over it in a barrel. Suffice it to say that Anty was not entirely on board with this idea, but her parents got her into the carrier anyway. She had never been to a different country before, so crossing the border was a new experience.

Seeing Niagra Falls in person was also a new experience. Anty loves waterfalls anyway, and her mama’s relative was wrong; the vast majority of people stand on land and look, although some get to go in a boat (Anty’s family did not; they stayed on land.) Getting Anty back in the carrier to go back to Anty’s mama’s anty’s house was another matter, because A) being in a different country is very, very interesting for a very tiny people kitten who has never done that before, and B) giant waterfalls. Giant waterfalls are also very, very interesting to a very tiny people kitten. Anty’s papa had to bribe her with a toy canoe made of real bark, and a doll dressed like an indigenous Canadian girl. Anty is not sure to which people group that doll’s character belonged, but it was probably Algonkian or Iroquois. Since it was already a very long trip to see Anty’s mama’s anty, they did not get to visit Niagra Falls again, but that does not mean the story is over.

Anty and Uncle would like to visit Anty’s friend from the glowy box someday. Anty’s friend does not actually live inside the glowy box. She lives in Montreal, which is a big city, with many interesting things Anty and Uncle might like to see. I, of course, would stay home, because I am a kitty.

Now, it is time for Anty to work on her books, so that is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

 

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Until next week…

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

 

Typing With Wet Claws: Officially Summertime Edition

annabowling 2 Comments

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Now that it is officially summertime, this is going to have an effect on the way Anty does a few things. It does not affect the fact that I have to talk about her writing first, before I am allowed to talk about anything else, so I will tell you about the current Buried Under Romance discussion post.

This past week, Anty discovered a new-to-her author (who is not very new, because she has over fifty books out and more on the way.) It looks like Anty has some reading to do. Have you ever discovered an author with a very big backlist? How did you handle tackling that? Start at the beginning and go through in order, or jump in wherever you felt like it? Maybe you even found some other way. Drop by Buried Under Romance and let Anty know. She is nosy about things like this. That post is here and it looks like this:

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This past week saw the onset of the summer season, which is not Anty’s favorite. Anty is not covered in fur like I am (because she is a people) so she does not have that to shield her from the sun, which can be very, very bright. It can also get very, very hot, and Anty, because she had heatstroke when she was a very young grownup, needs to be careful in hot weather. That means staying inside as much as possible when it is bright and/or hot outside,  stay hydrated, and get more rest if she needs it.  When she does go outside during the daytime, then she needs to wear a hat and protective clothing (long sleeves, or a shawl covering arms and shoulders, long skirt or dress) because her skin is sensitive to chemicals used in many sunblocks. She even once got a rash from newborn sunscreen. All of this makes me very glad that I have fur and am an indoor kitty. I like my sunbeams, but I do not think I would like being outside all the time. I was, before I was rescued, and it was not that great, but I am digressing.

Anty finds that the arrival of summertime means that she needs to make a few changes to the way she goes about this whole writing thing. For one thing, she has started going to bed earlier so that she can get up earlier. Anty is a morning person anyway, no matter the season, and mornings are the coolest part of the day, since the house is still comfortable from the nice, cool night. Anty’s brain is sharper in the mornings (she crashes shortly after lunch, then gets a second wind) so she likes to start with her morning pages (she still does not know what book she wants to be her next morning pages book, so stay tuned for developments on that front) and then get into the business of the day.

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Anty has found, through writing her morning pages, that writing about what she is going to write, before she writes it, makes the actual writing a lot easier, because she does not have to decide what she will be writing while she is actually writing it. If that does not make  a lot of sense to you, do not worry. Anty had to think about that while explaining that to me, too. What it all comes down to is that Anty is a talker. While the best-best thing is to talk about the story to another writer friend, preferably one in the same genre, writing about writing is like talking on paper, so it is a big help. Anty thinks the butterfly cover on the notebook in the picture above is symbolic of all the changeyness going on these days. She does not know what she will write in that notebook, but she does know she will be writing in it with sepia ink. Once she fixes that pen cartridge, that is.

 

 

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That brings us to the actual writing.  Summertime has not always been a great time for that,  thanks to the whole heat and sun thing, but, this year, Anty  has found a few ways to get around that. Writing by hand in her nice, shady office is a good start, and remembering to keep her creative well filled by making time to read, take in other stimuli, and, most importantly, play with me. It is an ongoing process, and Anty has learned -or, she would say, she is learning- not to rush. Of course things are going to be different now than when she first got into this game, because she is different, and the market is different as well. Maybe, this year, instead of grumbling about  how long it is until September (autumn is her favorite season,) the key is to appreciate this stage of the journey for where and what it is, and know that, if she stays on the right track, she will get there. That leaves room for some summer fun along the way, which, for Anty, usually involves books and friends who love books. Also ice cream. There is also playing with me, but I am an all season kitty, so maybe I do not need to mention that, because it is obvious.

It should also be obvious that that is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,

i1035 FW1.1

Until next week…

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

Typing With Wet Claws: Winds of Change Edition

annabowling 2 Comments

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Today feels like summer, after a week of mostly very cool weather. Right now, Anty and I are next to an open window, with a box fan, which makes it nice and cool. It also ruffles my fur. Anty is easily amused, but I have a sunbeam, so I do not mind.

This week, at Buried Under Romance, Anty talked about the perils and pitfalls of reading and writing independently published romances. Do you read books like that, or write them? Anty is very interested to find out. That post is here and it looks like this:

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Anty will have a whole new post up tomorrow, about what it is like to discover new reading adventures, so be sure to stop by Buried Under Romance and join the conversation. Anty is nosy and likes to know what other people are reading, especially since she has been making it a point to do a lot more reading of her own, these days. Even though there are still the same number of hours in every day, (do not think Anty has not looked into ways of getting around that, including but not limited to spending less time asleep) she recognizes that the way she manages those hours goes a long way to making them as effective as possible. While it is true that, to have a novel writing career, there must be completed novels (have you ever been in a store that does not have products to sell? Would those stores stay in business? Probably not, but. then again, I am a kitty, so do not go by me here.) it is also true that trying to draw water from an empty well is about as smart as trying to handle a full day on little to no sleep.

This means that Anty has to slam the breaks on some habits that do not serve her purpose, and pick up others that do. One of those habits is reading. Anty remembers a time when she almost always had her nose in a book if she was not actually writing. Anty also remembers that this was before there was Internet, and time spent doing one thing is time spent not doing another. Combine this with the look the people vet gave Anty when she told him how many hours per day she looks at a computer screen, and Anty knows what she has to do here. Story in, story out, she always says, and it is true. If a human wants their car to run, they have to put gas into it, and it is the same with writers. if Anty wants to create stories, she has to take them in as well, not only for entertainment, but to see what others are doing in her field, as well as outside of it. (When I say “field,” I mean genre. Anty does not have a field like farmers have fields.)

It is also important to take in new stimuli. Anty calls this the magpie stage, and she says that it is for the beginning of a project, but it is really for all the time. One of her Spotify lists is for miscellaneous songs that she likes, but has not assigned to any one particular story. Listening to the songs on that list tells her brain it is time to do new things, and, in time, songs will sort themselves, either into other lists, or groupings within this one.  Some songs take a long time to decide where they belong, and that is okay. Anty has time.

Today, Anty spent some time, after she wrote her morning pages, looking through her notebook crates (she has two of them here in the apartment) because, in about two weeks, she will be all done with her current morning pages book. That means it is time to decide on a new one. So far, she has three possible candidates, but do not quote her on that. She prefers when her morning pages books have alternating two page spreads, but only a few -really about two, maybe three- of the books she has on hand actually do. Which means that she either needs to pick one of those (even if the spreads are kind of funny and some have grids instead of lines and some have no lines at all, only designs) or alter a book with spreads that are all the same. Whichever way Anty goes with this, it will be a new adventure, since every notebook has its own personality.

It feels appropriate to be moving to a new morning pages book when things are changey overall, and she has accepted that moving toward the finished draft of Her Last First Kiss is going to happen at its own pace, even if she wishes it were faster. That is okay. The first time doing anything always takes the longest, because that is when the human is learning how to do it. For Anty, it is re-learning. Similar, but not the same, with enough of a difference to ensure there are still interesting discoveries to be made. That is actually a place where Anty feels fairly comfortable, ready to hit her stride.

Speaking of which, she is making those ruffly noises with her papers, which tell me that had better be about it for this week. Until next time, I remain, very truly yours,

i1035 FW1.1

Until next week…

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