Holidays on the horizon #ambaking

Image by Silvia from Pixabay

Well, we’ve got less than two weeks until Christmas and all the associated family gatherings. I’m looking forward to seeing my sister and her family, and all my siblings and their kids. I only get to see her twice a year, since they live about an hour on the other side of Madison WI, so a good 5-6 hr drive.

First, though, will be Christmas Eve with my in-laws. No younger kids on that side; the nieces and nephew who do have kids are all outstate: TX, VA, MA. So, it’s the grown-ups and pretty sedate.

One tradition I keep from my childhood is baking Christmas cookies. I used to bake cookies with Mom, and even in college when I came home for break we baked. Cut-out cookies, spritz, gingerbread (actually molasses cookies) cut-outs, peanut butter Ritz cracker sandwiches coated with almond bark, peanut butter Hershey kiss cookies. Not all of them every year, but at least three or four varieties, often more.

That’s one of the things that, even though we really don’t eat a lot of sweets, I’ve found I still “need” to do. Christmas was my mom’s favorite season, and after she passed, the holiday lost a lot of appeal. There were a couple years when I didn’t bake cookies, but I discovered that it was the connection to my mom that I needed more than the actual cookies.

So, that’s on my agenda for the coming week. I’ve got a few varieties I make, and I bring them to our family gatherings (because there’s never enough sweets, right?).

Writing-wise, I’ve got a deadline for a short story that I think I’ve got figured out. Finally. Then another short story on the docket, along with pulling the cover image of my book off my website by the end of the year (I get my rights back for my book, but the publisher owns the cover, I guess). I’m thinking I’ll replace it with an actual photo of the book.

Keep on writing–or better yet, pay attention to the family dynamics at your gatherings. Never know when you’ll be able to use something in a story!

Welcome to fall #amrevising

First, Happy Fall Equinox! Autumn has officially started! It’s been unseasonably hot here (average temps are in the 70s, this past week has been in the 80s). Weird for mid to late September in MN. Then again, it means the garden is still going (well, the weeds anyway). It also means I can’t put away my summer clothes yet. You know, that point where all the shorts and T-shirts get tucked away until next year, and the sweatshirts and jackets come out. And you make sure you can find your snow boots and winter coat and hat and gloves because, as they say, ‘Winter is coming.’

Autumn is my second favorite season of the year. It used to be my first favorite, but then I got older and realized that once all the pretty colored leaves are gone, everything is drab and the next thing to look forward to (?) is winter. Cold, snow, and short days (that is, less daylight every day for those purists out there who insist the days are all still 24 hours no matter what time of year it is–you’re right, but it feels like the days are shorter).

Now spring is my favorite time of year because everything greens up after the long winter. It just feels “fresh.” And flowers. And green. And trees aren’t naked anymore. And the days get longer (see previous paragraph for purists).

Anyway … ah, give me one minute …

*knocks on the wall between the alcove and the outside door*

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

My Muse looks up from the notebook he’s writing in. “What does it look like I’m doing, love?”

“It looks like you’re messing up my system.”

He gives me a crooked grin (damn, is it getting warmer in here?). “What system?”

“The system that says I’m not ready to write that story yet. And that’s the wrong notebook. I’m starting a fresh notebook for that project.”

He adjusts his position in the recliner. “You’ve already started making notes in another notebook–not a fresh notebook.”

“Yeah, because I’ve been getting these ideas … Damn it, I told you I’m not ready to start that one yet.”

He arches a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

I can’t stop my eyeroll. “Yes. I still have to finish revisions on book 2, and get my rural MN mystery old timeline rewritten, and I’ve got a short story to write for the MMW anthology, and …”

“And,” he says as he lowers the footrest and stands, “you have this one.” He hands me the notebook he’s been writing in.

He’s written a character sketch for the male protagonist in that urban fantasy-slash-paranormal cozy mystery he keeps dangling in my head. “What? I don’t even have the main character fleshed out yet.”

“Really, love? You’ve almost finished developing her, or as much of her as you usually do with your main character before you start writing.”

“Have I? How many siblings does she have? Are they brothers or sisters or both? Are her parents still alive? Grandparents? Does she live near family? What about her in-laws? When did she and her best friend meet? In college? High school? Did they grow up together as neighbors? I don’t have any of that yet.”

“Do you do any of that before you start writing?”

“Yes.”

“Always?”

Damn it. “No, not always.” I groan. “Come on, I have to at least finish the rural MN mystery before I start a brand new project.”

He drapes an arm across my shoulders. He smells like rain in an autumn forest, with that spicy hint of fallen leaves. “I want to work on it.” He indicates the notebook. “You’ll get back to the other projects.”

Damn. It’s not like I don’t ever have multiple projects going at once, but I’d really like to finish a couple before kicking this one off. Problem is, if he wants to work on it, that’s what’s going to set up shop in my head until I get it written down.

“Tell you what. You help me get my revisions done on book 2, and the revisions for the rural MN mystery, and the short story I’m supposed to be writing for the anthology, and then I’ll start sketching out some sort of plot for the paranormal cozy or whatever it’ll end up being.”

He stares at me for a moment. “That’s the best I’m going to get, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I have to finish the other projects first. And that’s not even counting the revisions for my police procedural or drafting book 3.”

He sighs. “Fine. But you have to promise me something, love.”

Oh boy. “What?”

“You’ll keep the name I gave you for him.” He indicates the character sketch.

“Can’t promise that. I can promise I’ll try on other names for him, and if the one you gave me works better than any others, I’ll keep it.” Or if that character insists on the name, I’ll keep it, but I’m not telling my Muse that. “It has to come organically, though. You can’t force it.” ‘Cause he will, given the chance.

“Deal. Now, let’s look at those chapter revisions in Book 2.”

Wonder when I should tell him I still have homework to do.

Enjoy your weekend! Happy Writing!

Nap attack!

Contemplating a quiet summer #amrevising #mngarden

Before the pandemic (you all remember that, right? Life before?), in 2019 when my book came out, I remember scrambling to figure out how to “get out there”, basically how to engineer bookstore appearances, book fair registrations, and all that stuff we authors do to make ourselves known to readers. I don’t know how many bookstores or libraries or book fairs I did that year, but I do remember them. Or some of them, anyway. I went to my first reader/writer convention in March 2020.

For a day. Then everything shut down.

And I couldn’t write. For almost 2 years, something put a stranglehold on my creative energy, and though I tried, I could not write. Of course, anything related to in-person stuff was shut down, and virtual, while a great option, just isn’t the same, especially when it comes to talking to random people who might buy your book and become fans.

Now things are back. Last year, really, is when all the things started happening again. And I finally, somewhere late 2021, got my writing going again. I’m this close to a resubmit of Book 2; waiting on talking to a few more beta readers before doing another revision and sending it off to my agent with fingers crossed.

I’m working on a couple other projects, too. The thing I find I’m not doing (or terribly interested in doing at this point) is setting up those in-person things: book fairs, art fairs, bookstore appearances, all the stuff. Mainly because I don’t have a new book yet, but also because after the past couple years, I’m pretty content to be a homebody.

Oh, I know when Book 2 finally comes out I’ll force myself to do all the things again, but I dread it. Okay, I dreaded it the first time, but did it because that’s what you do to garner readers. Same will go for Book 2. And hopefully I’ll have the first book of a new series on the publication journey.

But this summer will be pretty quiet, except for the occasional panel, and maybe a book fair. I do have a signing event in July, along with a panel. Now all those things I’ve been setting aside since spring of 2020 are staring me in the face and begging for attention (you know, like organizing that stuff that came home from the office when they made everyone work from home and cleaning the refrigerator; actually, a lot of that deep cleaning stuff).

And I did get the garden in–now is about the time I need to start going out and stirring up those nasty tiny weeds before they decide to really get going. I didn’t have as much cut-grass mulch as I needed, so I’ll have to rake more the next time we mow what we affectionately call the “back forty.”

And it’s hot. July temps in the upper 80s and it’s only the first week in June. Ugh. We got all of what, one or two weeks of spring … maybe. I miss spring!

Anyway, the struggle to make writing the priority before garden and cleaning and–okay, not work because that’s how I pay the bills 40 hrs a week–is ongoing. Can’t wait for my Writing Sisters reunion in August!

Keep on writing!

Hi Spring–Bye Spring #springMN #amrevising

Well, we had our one week of spring, basically meaning the respite between Winter and Winter-ish in April and Summer-ish (temps in upper-seventies). Sigh. Spring is my favorite season, followed closely by Autumn, mostly because it’s warm enough to ditch the parka but still need a jacket, and the bugs aren’t out in force yet.

Not to mention that Memorial Day Weekend is the symbolic start to the summer vacation season. The ticks are out (and it’s a definite tick-heavy year), the mosquitoes are starting to ramp up their attacks, and the weather people are predicting the season’s first 90 deg day this coming week. Far too early for my taste. Leave the 90s to July, please. I can wait!

This weekend is also the traditional weekend to get the garden in. As any of you who have been following me for a few years know, I have a bad habit of planting a big garden. Needless to say, that garden takes a few days to put in: till the spot, put up the fence (because those damn rabbits!), put chicken wire around the fence (yes, those damn rabbits!), lay out the soaker hoses, then finally plant.

I’m at the finishing up spot of putting the chicken wire around the fence. After the past couple days I keep thinking I wouldn’t have to do all this if we didn’t have all the rabbits. The challenges of living in the country (yes, I know that rabbits can still be a problem in town, but I’m pretty sure we have far more of those rodents (and chipmunks) where we are).

And don’t forget my hubs reminding me to get the plants in (yes, dear, I’m well aware, and one or two days won’t make a difference, and I’ve been doing this for a while so I think I know what the hell I’m doing by now). He did help me put up the fence, which involves pounding in T-posts and dragging pig panels into place, all of which we acquired as part of the place when we bought it thirty-ish years ago. It was a lot of work then, and it still is, except we’re older now, so it feels like even more work.

So this weekend is all about getting the garden in. And again, I have far more tomato plants than I need, but I did buy onion plants this year instead of starting them from seed like I have in the past few years. Last year and the year before I didn’t have the luck I’ve had prior to that when starting onions from seed.

And I’ve gotten requests from a couple family members. My sister-in-law has been asking me to plant pumpkins for her the past few years because I have the room in my garden. No problem. The fun/surprise request? My son and his girlfriend asked me to plant beets! Surprising because my son has always been notoriously picky when it comes to veggies. Last year I didn’t plant beets because we had so many the year before. We gave some to my son and his girlfriend, and she loved them (she hadn’t had them cooked before she had them at our place). I also found out last year my son likes brussels sprouts 😮 They roast them in their air fryer.

Wow. He grew up 🙂

Anyway, that’s on the docket for this weekend, along with still working through the plot for Book 3 and also reviewing/revising my police procedural. The garden stuff (and the full time job stuff) takes a good chunk out of the day, but once the garden is planted, I can get back to my brainstorming walks.

To those in the US: have a Happy and SAFE Memorial Day Weekend!

Musings of Spring (?!) and writing #amrevising

So, last week we had a snowstorm. The past three days we’ve had temps in the 80s–record-setting temps. And guess what the weather wonks are predicting for this weekend. Go ahead, I dare you. Yep, possible snow. And temps in the 40s and 50s. Granted, temps are supposed to be in the 50s at this time of year, but those three days of summer really threw us for a loop.

The outside door to my writing office opens, and a chilly breeze whips around the partial wall protecting the alcove from the full blast. It closes with a snick, and a pair of thuds follow.

Three, two, one …

My Muse appears, his hair plastered to his head, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. He’s wearing charcoal gray lounge pants and a faded black T-shirt with the graphic for AC/DC’s Thunderstruck album stretched across his broad chest. I watch his biceps flex …

“Little chilly, there? Raining out?”

He narrows his eyes.

“Don’t you ever pay attention the weather reports? You could conjour yourself a cup of hot tea, you know.”

“It was in the 80s yesterday.”

I chuckle. “Dude, it’s Minnesota. It ain’t gonna stay warm like that this early in the season. How long have you been my Muse again?”

He disappears around the wall and returns a minute later, pulling a hooded sweatshirt on, this one plain blue and far more boring–and looser–than the T-shirt. “Long enough, love.”

“You stash a sweatshirt in my writing office?”

He pulls a bottle of Schell’s Firebrick lager from the mini-fridge and settles into the other recliner. “It’s Minnesota. You never know when you’ll need it.”

“Smart ass.”

He extends the footrest and leans back in the chair. “I have to congratulate you on getting your revisions for Book 2 done.”

“Why? You didn’t think I would?”

He arches a brow. “I knew you would, love. I just didn’t think–“

“You didn’t think I’d get them done when I said I would. Sheesh.”

“Well, you did have four cats to distract you.”

“Yes, I did, but they didn’t bug me as much as I thought they would.”

He leans his head back and sips his beer. “When are you going to start working on your police procedural again?”

My turn to lean my head back. “I finally got the taxes done, so that’s my next project.”

“What about Book 2?”

“My instructions are to have it beta read … again.” The book has been through two rounds of beta readers already. “I’ve got it out to one reader, and I’ll have another in a day or two.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “You really need to get that procedural done.”

“I’m working on it.” I think he’s got a soft spot for that one because it’s one of the first books he inspired in me. “I’m a third of the way through it. Though by now it’ll take me a few days to figure out where I was and what I was doing with it.” I haven’t looked at that one since I started my third revise and resubmit on Book 2.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it. I think your revisions will do it justice.”

“Thanks.” My critique group also loves it, so that’s something. “Once I’ve got it revised, I’ll work with a writing coach before I send it to my agent.”

My Muse nods. “You should send her Book 2, see what she thinks about your changes since you submitted it as your cornerstone project for your certificate.”

I’ve thought about it. “I’d like to get beta read feedback first, I think.”

“And then?”

“What do you mean, ‘and then’?”

“What are you working on after your police proedural?”

“Not sure.” I might have to flip a coin. “I’ve got the next book in the police procedural series, I need to plot Book 3, and I have that rural Minnesota mystery with the dual timelines. And that doesn’t include the urban fantasy you keep dangling in my brain.”

A grin inches across his face, deepening his dimples. The room heats up. I think it’s the room … “Good. Depends on how long it takes to find a home for Book 2, I suspect.” He bumps up the wattage on his smile.

Yep, the room is definitely getting warmer.

“You do have the second procedural drafted. Tell you what, when we go to the Shire in a month for your writing retreat, let’s work on plotting book 3, but keep that second procedural handy.”

“Provided I can get my revisions for the first one done by then.” Which I will try to do. It’s almost there. Just a few more scene shuffles, and another run through to check continuity.

“Well, then, what are you waiting for, love? Pull out that procedural and let’s get back into it.”

Luckily there’s no way planting the garden early is in the four-week plan, not at the rate the weather is going. The ground is too cold yet, though if temps stay around 60 for the next couple weeks, then inch toward 70, it’s possible I could start planting when I get back from the Shire in mid-May. I’m not going to hold my breath, though.

Hope Spring is being good to you all!

Happy Writing!