Something Beautiful

I saw this online somewhere and took a screenshot. Beautiful.

Adieu

We finally decided to cut down two huge camphor trees in the front yard. It wasn't a tough decision; they were both planted too close to the house by the original owners and grew unbelievably huge over the last fifteen years. The root systems were starting to threaten our foundation.

Both trees are about seventy feet tall. If they fell over during a hurricane -- a stronger possibility every year, given their shallow root systems and top heaviness -- they would definitely wipe out most of the house. Also, the copious amount of berries falling from the trees keeps killing the grass, which annoys my guy to no end.

I never like cutting down trees, but these two are actually invasive species in our region. Birds eat the berries and then spread them to other areas. So that along with the danger they present during storm season makes me happy to see them go.

First Quilt

Since Katherine no longer needs to use my sewing room I decided to get started on my first quilt for 2021. I wanted to begin with something easy, so I choose the purple top I pieced on election night last year. I backed it with a plain cream-colored soft muslin and batted it with three leftover scraps from other projects. Since it's slightly larger than my sewing table I pinned it all together on the floor in the front hall:

I'm keeping it simple by using just a dark purple hand quilting thread:

I didn't get much quilting done last night -- my fingers are really stiff after not hand-sewing anything for two and a half months -- but I'm not in a hurry. This one is just for fun.

25% vs. the 75%

"Sometimes it’s hard to be grateful for the basic things in life, like waking up in your own bed, having a roof over your head, and having a choice of what food to eat — but these things shouldn’t be taken for granted. With those things alone, you’re richer than 75% per cent of the world. Really take that in for a moment. Despite your struggle, and by nature of being able to read this article, you are in a better position than 75% of the world." --Alex Heery

I came across this in one of the articles that I've been reading for some character-building research. I'm trying to refine a protagonist who is in desperate straits and must make some very tough decisions. I haven't really related to her yet on an emotional level. Yet it was this quote from the article that reminded me of the time in my life when I was in my early twenties, struggling to get by, and definitely not in the 25%.

I'm not going to depress you with details, but I know only too well what it's like to be young and cash-strapped and too proud to ask for help, and yet to be so desperately in need of it. I felt terribly ashamed. I grew up poor, so I knew how to get by, but it seemed like I would never be able to escape that desperation. It's odd that I didn't remember my own experiences when I was puzzling over how to write this character. Maybe it was so traumatic for me that I tend to block it all out.

Not being able to afford what everyone else took for granted forced me to learn how to economize and do without, but there were a few very bad times when I actually thought I wouldn't make it and I'd end up living under a bridge -- literally. I had no idea what would happen to me. Emotionally speaking it was so much worse than anything I struggle with now, even the physical issues. While my struggles were very different from what my character is experiencing, I think the emotions have to be very similar, so I think I've found some common ground.

Anyway, today I will find a way to show some gratitude for where I am versus where I've been.

What are you grateful for today?

Reading Week

I need to get back to my happy place, and that means do things other than writing. So I have a new challenge for myself this week, and that's to read at least three new books. I'd shoot for a book every day, but I'm starting to write a new novel for work, which requires a lot of focus, and I'm also still working on NA #2. Three seems like a more attainable goal -- and here are the books I'll be reading:

There is no particular reason I chose this trio; they were simply the next three books on my TBR pile. I'll probably read the Anne Gracie novel first, then the Sandra Brown, and finish up with the Galbraith. Because life is short and my patience even more so these days I can't promise to finish the entire book if any one of them happen to be dreadful; there's just so much abuse my brain can take.

I also promise to write up a post on every book I read this week here on the blog with my honest opinions. Wish me luck. :)

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

Lunch Out(side)

To thank my crew for putting up with me locking myself in the office for a week I took them out for lunch on Friday. There's a McAlister's about an hour away from us that has outdoor seating and isn't too busy during the week.

We eat at home basically all the time now, and only get take-out from restaurants occasionally, so I thought it would be a nice treat to go out. Yes, well, you know about the road to hell being littered with good intentions.

Although this place is located in the Villages, which is a huge retirement community, very few people there were social distancing or wearing masks. Some of them glared at us for wearing ours, like we were being offensive. I will never understand these anti-mask dimwits.

Before we sat down I thoroughly cleaned the outside table with the antiseptic wipes I carry in my purse, and we kept our masks on until after we were served. We also used hand sanitizer after the meal and kept practicing our social distancing. It still felt risky because of all the people not wearing masks. I probably won't do this again until we've all been vaccinated, which looks like maybe by the fall? I don't know. But this is why I don't like to eat out anywhere, even the places that are supposed to be safe.

Done!

I finally got the latest novel for work finished, which stuttered a bit toward the end as my creative stress returned. This time I knew what to do that would help me power through it. I unplugged from the online hate-fest, balanced work with some reading or fun writing every night, and did the bulk of my work while my crew was sleeping. Not having those constant interruptions is key to maintaining my focus these days.

My big reward for crossing this finish line is getting to watch the fourth season of The Expanse, which they finally put out on DVD. I bought it as soon as it was available for purchase, but they backordered it. It arrived the day before I finished the book. How's that for the Universe making sure I didn't cheat? Ha.

I have been pretty much locked in the office for the last week, too, so I'm also giving myself some fun time off this weekend. I plan to do some for-me writing on the second NA novel, which is about half finished now. Since Katherine is finished working in the sewing room I'll probably start quilting again, too. I think I'll begin with the purple quilt top I pieced on election night.

Feels good to be done this time. I'm still feeling a bit jumpy about letting the stress of what's happening in the world out there get to me, but now that I've got the right process to pull myself out of it I don't think it will be a big problem like it was last year.

The Next Project

This is the bookcase in the guest bedroom, which like all the others in the house is really packed with books I probably will never get to or won't reread. A lot of these titles are gift books that family, friends and colleagues have given me over the years, too, so it's going to be a difficult struggle. Just taking the pic I tripped over a literary novel that a very famous author signed and sent me out of the blue via my publisher (apparently said author was a big StarDoc fan.)

I love gifts of books, and I'm always honored when someone -- no matter how famous they are -- takes the time to share their work with me. That's where I've been fighting myself with this project. For example, the tripped-over book is a literary novel, and from the description sounds depressing as hell. I doubt I'll ever read it -- but it's signed, and it was a gift. So . . . yeah, probably not going in the donation box.

It's hard to put how I feel into words. All books are treasure to me. Every shelf in this house is filled with jewels. When I see books I unconsciously relax and feel better about being alive. Walking into a library is like stepping into heaven on earth for me. I remember how I felt as a kid, sneaking off to the tiny trailer that was our public library in town and sitting down and reading as much as I wanted. I think reading for me is like what drugs or liquor is for other people, maybe.

I've managed to keep my addiction under control, but I have to stop hanging on to what I don't want, I really do -- and keeping books I have no intention of reading is hoarding behavior. The one thing that makes me feel better is the hope that another reader will have a chance to enjoy these jewels. I keep telling myself that as I work on the shelves: Pass along the jewels. Give someone else a little treasure.

Still Writing (Update)

I had a nice exchange of e-mails with the reader who sent me the twit-fest about me allegedly no longer writing. I politely explained that I had lost my job in traditional publishing and had chosen to go freelance. I didn't give any other details. I also didn't say anything nasty, no matter how much I wanted to. I then directed the reader to the free reads page on PBW, which was news to the reader. They thanked me and encouraged me to consider self-pubbing.

So all's well that ends that way. I'm giving myself a pat on the back for being cordial under duress. :)

Printer Stand

Got nearly all my office supplies stored in the cleaned-out dresser, so now my printer stand looks a lot neater:

The novel notebooks on the left there are headed for storage in the very near future; I just want to put them all in one place for easier retrieval. I have something like 200 of them now altogether, I think, but I've always kept them because they prove how my ideas are always my own, provide all my research sources, document my journey as a writer, etc.

I also cleaned off the inspiration board on the wall of why and started putting up motivational images for the NA series (sadly the stuff I use for my job must stay out of sight):

I decided to take down all the family photos for now because I'm starting to stress out again, and looking at my crew only makes that worse. When I'm feeling sunnier I'll probably do another board with the family.

Escapes

Since I promised Library Thing that I would review Escape Routes ~ for people who feel trapped in life's hells by Johann Christoph Arnold back in 2016, I did try to read it before I tossed the gratis copy in the donate pile. I mostly ended up skimming through the text once I realized it was a Come-to-Jesus fest.

What I probably should have read first was the tag line on the back cover copy: You name the hell . . . there is a way out. That has to be the most breathtakingly idiotic statement I have ever read. I guess we're skipping terminal cancer? Chronic incurable pain? How about diseases that result in a seriously impaired, shortened life? Sorry, but the only way out of those is death.

This book is basically a collection of interviews with people who have endured the worst abuse, physical and mental suffering, and the terminally ill (aka misery porn) interspersed with long passages of preaching by the writer, who assures the reader that he too has had a horrible time of it before he launches into yet another variation of "a deep and devoted relationship with God will get you through anything."

Unless you're an atheist, a non-Christian believer or, like me, a person who simply tries to be decent and good while avoiding all the religious fanatics, in which case I guess you're SOL.

I have nothing against having a healthy and fulfilling relationship with God -- I admire people who can, as long as they're not violating the rights of others who don't share their beliefs -- but the Almighty is not a skeleton key. You hold onto whatever you can however you can and survive your hells, or learn to live in them. Or you don't survive, and you get out of them anyway (one hopes.)

I think since reading Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture, which I think is the most helpful book out there for people who are dealing with life's worst tragedies, I have been able to let go of what really doesn't matter and focused on what does. If you want a great motivational book during dark times, i'd recommend going with Randy instead of Johann.

I'm perplexed by this book for many reasons, but in the end it's the title inaccuracy that tops the head-scratcher list. If God is the one-size-fits-all way out of any hell, then why isn't the title Escape Route?

Dresser Done

To my surprise cleaning out the old dresser in the office only took a couple days. All of the drawers were packed full, but once I went through everything I was able to completely empty out four drawers:

Paper wise, aside from old magazines and e-mails back and forth with editors there was basically just cards, items of sentimental value and contracts. Kept the cards that meant the most to me in one small drawer:

I have a lot of random pictures that migrated into the dresser. Also four old cameras, some of which still work, so I'm saving those to test. I also have a ton of small gift boxes saved for some reason. The top big middle drawer is now filled with things I want to throw away but I'm waiting to try out/find another spot for/put them in a photo album.

Here's a real blast from the past: thirteen-year-old me with my niece Jessie way back in 1974:

The third drawer is business stuff. I also threw a little handmade school award in there; I think it's Katherine's but I have to check.

Now I'm going to move all my office supplies (currently sitting on the printer stand shelves) over to the dresser, and then I'll be done with the office.

Kat's Painting

Katherine finished the painting she was commissioned to do over the holidays:

The detail work is pretty amazing.

I think her client will love it. :)

Stuff

I cleaned off the top of the dresser in my home office, which was badly cluttered with crap I didn't have time to put away. Made the time. :)

I inherited this piece from Katherine when she was in her teens and decided to get a smaller one. I kept it because it's a nice piece of furniture, and it reminds me of her when she was a little girl. It's also my catch-all for things of sentimental value to me, so it's packed with stuff.

Cleaning out the drawers will likely take another week, but if I do I can use them to store office supplies, which is what I always intended to use it for anyway.

Argh

I cleaned out the other three shelves in my home office. These hold my quilting books, my art books, and nearly all the nonfic reference books I still use on occasion for work. I was able to weed out fifty-six books I really don't need anymore (the sheep books are in the donate pile now. That was surprisingly tough to do.) I also found a couple of duplicate writing books:

I used to buy extra copies of these to give to young writers, as I always thought they were the best of the how-tos, so I guess they're leftovers from my PBW days. Anyone want them before I give them to the indy bookseller in town?

Here are the books I purged (I know I don't need to show you, but taking pictures of this project keeps me honest.)

Here's what I kept. Probably still too many, I know, but it's a lot better than it was. So now that the office shelves are done, I'm going to tidy up the rest of the office before I head into the guest room and get started on the big bookcase in there.

Keepers

While spring cleaning I am trying to give myself permission to keep things just because I can't bear to part with them, like my collection of needle-felted journals from Beautiful Place on Etsy:

They're so pretty I've never had to nerve to use them, but maybe someday soon I will. Here's my favorite:

I'm also finding some old projects that I never finished and set aside and promptly forgot. This Venetian mask tote in silk is nearly is done:

I might have to finish it just because I still love it so much. :)

So Speaketh the Universe

Edward and I got take-out from our favorite Chinese place the other night, and ended up with these fortunes:

Yep, that pretty much covers it.

Oh, Hilarious

A reader forwarded this to me:

I'm assuming that has written in the second part should be hasn't written. Evidently I'm mentioned twice in the thread (? is that the right word?). Anyway, the reader thinks I should stop sitting on my ass and start writing books again so I can profit off the, what, two people who miss my writing?

Wait, now I have to laugh again.

Okay, done. So, how to tell the reader that I've written 57 novellas and novels and something like 100 short stories since I left traditional publishing, only I can't reveal the titles or bylines because of the non-disclosure agreements I've signed?

Yeah, too mean. Better to let them think I'm sitting on my ass. Ha.

One Done

I got started on the library spring cleaning with the big bookcase in my home office. This is where I keep the books I've written for work (the blurred out sections of the pic) as well as books I haven't yet read, excess copies of my bylined books, the reference books I most often use, signed editions, paperback collections of my two of my all-time favorite authors, and miscellaneous books that somehow migrated there, too.

I will be the first to admit that the bookcase is still mostly a big mess, but my first task is to weed out the books I'm willing to part with, donate them to get them out of the house, and then reorganize everything I decide to keep.

It's very hard for me to do this. I'd rather give up clothing and shoes than books. But a lot of that comes from having been a poor kid who couldn't afford to buy books. Having them now gives me a sense of security, like everyone else gets from those blankets in childhood. If I didn't watch myself I'd become a book hoarder.

I was able to purge these thirty books while sorting through the shelves, so I think that's a decent start. I have three more shelves to go through in the office, two big bookcases like this one out in the sewing room, and one more in the guest bedroom, plus all the boxes of books I've stored in the closets, which is probably ten to fifteen big bins.

This is going to be the book version of what I did with my fabric stash last year, but it feels good to get going on the project.

Barber in a Box

Since the pandemic began I've been cutting my guy's hair at home, using ancient clippers that I've had for over 25 years (I used to cut the kids' hair when they were little to save money.) So when I saw a nice clipper set for under $50.00 on Maria's blog during the holidays I decided to get that for my guy for Christmas. It was really a present for me, but since I would be using it on him I figured it counted.

This is a 30-piece set with clippers, two different battery-powered trimmers, scissors, two combs, all kinds of clipper attachments and even a cape like you'd have in a barber shop. Included is a nice, sturdy zip-up case in which everything fits for tidy storage.

Here's a pic off the box that shows all the pieces you get:

I finally got to use it the other night, and I was impressed. The clipper's blades are razor sharp and zip right through hair (now I realize how dull the blades are on my old set.) I also liked having the cape and the different combs. The hand scissors are also very nice.

Highly recommend this set if you're barbering at home.

Is It Possible

I wish I could build in real life the ivory tower that I fancy myself in when I'm writing. I would live there now, and maybe even stay for good. I'm sure at moments -- or maybe constantly now, like me -- you all are thinking the same thing.

I wrote a very different post for today, but then I deleted it. I'm not going there. Is it possible to stay away from all the news of what's happening right now? Of course not. But I am not wallowing in it. I check in, read as much as I can stomach (which isn't much) and then unplug. I have books to write.

Tonight I got to the point where I think I need to go back to just checking the weather and seeing when the vaccine will be available in my area. So I think that's what I'm going to do.

Sending you all my good thoughts and love, my pals. Always.

Parting with Books

Last year I think I did very well with my spring cleaning, all things considered. I emptied the room upstairs for Katherine to move into when she came back home. I also reduced my fabric stash by a good 75%, and cleaned out four closets. In the process I donated a lot of books as well, but I still have too many. So my plan this year is to start my spring cleaning by whittling down my personal library. Since I love books, and if I could I'd build a mansion out of them that I could live in (which I know I can't), this is going to be tough.

After twenty-three years in the biz I have too many copies of my own books, so those will be the first to go (and if anyone wants a copy of anything I've written under my byline, just let me know and you'll get first dibs on what I have on hand.) These extras are mostly publisher ARCs or gratis copies of what I wrote in the last fifteen years (they sent me at least 10 ARCs and 35 final edition copies of each title); I've actually gotten rid of most of my earlier works, including all of the StarDoc novels.

My reference library has gotten a bit out of hand, too. Example: I wrote one book with a shepherdess character; I have five books on sheep. I love my sheep books, but will I ever need them again? Probably not. Same thing with Jericho; I have three books on that ancient city, but I only ever wrote one novel about it. I need to stop hoarding these one-time-only reference books.

Then there's a big moral dilemma. I have a lot of autographed fiction, often with personal messages in them, that came to me unsolicited (some as thank-yous for something I did for the author, others from their editors hoping for a quote or a PBW mention back when I was a Times BSLer.) Think hundreds. I hang onto them out of guilt, which is ridiculous because I never asked for them. I don't know what to do with these. Other authors have told me they first tear out the signed page and then donate them, but that seems heartless to me. Also, I simply can't mutilate books that way. I don't want to keep these, but I probably will.

Finally, the fiction collection. Sigh. This is the hardest for me because I have already whittled it down to the keepers, aka the only authors I never tire of rereading. I just won't live long enough to reread all of them, so I'll have to make some hard choices.

How do you cope with parting with your books? Let me know in comments.

Image by Nino Carè from Pixabay

Kitcheny Bliss

With the tsunami of writing still going on and all my other household chores I don't often have time to clean and organize things these days. So it was really nice to find Katherine and Edward cleaning out the fridge for me yesterday.

They took everything out, disposed of anything that was expired, and washed down the interior, and then put everything back very nicely. We're loading up on veggies these days so it was especially nice to see the bins clean:

My contribution: I cleaned out the catch-all box on the door:

Katherine wants to start cooking for herself again so she can eat local produce and only sustainable proteins (mostly foods her dad won't eat and I can't have on my diet.) Today she's making homemade chicken stock:

I love having a clean, well-organized kitchen, so I'm a happy girl. :)

Morning Happiness

To distract you from whatever ails you today, here's the cutest video I've seen in a long time.

Fraziled

This morning while I was hunting around for a synonym for the noun vigil (it sounds a bit too archaic, and watch is overused) I noticed Dictionary.com's word of the day: frazil. I'd never before seen the word, and I really don't like when that happens, so I clicked on the link for the definition, as follows:

The relatively uncommon noun frazil “ice crystals formed in turbulent water, as in swift streams or rough seas,” comes from Canadian French frasil (also frazil, fraisil), an extension of French fraisil “coal cinders, coal dust.” French fraisil is an alteration of Vulgar Latin adjective facilis “pertaining to a torch or firebrand,” a derivative of the Latin noun fax (inflectional stem fac-) “torch, light.” It is unsurprising that frazil first appeared in the Montreal Gazette in the winter of 1888.

From light to fire to ice, what do you know. It's a Robert Frost of a word -- really, you could build a poem out of the meaning and evolution of frazil. I love finding things like this. Made my whole day, really.

Last night I read a bit of a currently popular NA novel I purchased to get another sample of the genre, and felt a very different kind of awe: I could not believe how badly it was written. No, really, imagine the worst, multiply that by a factor of ten, and you'll get close to what the actual reading experience was like for me.

The profanity alone could have set a record; I think the eff word appeared on every single page multiple times. Everyone used it, too; all the characters were basically the same character with the same personality in different bodies. The plot, you ask? No plot. Just lame excuses for stomach-turning sex scenes and badly thought-out violence and absolutely pointless juvenile confrontations, none of which made any logical sense whatsoever given the ages and social positions of the characters. The romance, if you could call it that, was utterly ridiculous. I ended up chuckling through most of that (and trust me, the author was definitely not trying to be funny.)

Although it wasn't about vampires, it had a kind of bizarre Twilight feel to it, too. I think the author watched those movies a little too often and ended up writing another, more twisted version than even that Fifty Shades gal did. Finally I waded my way through all this crap right up to the black moment, at which point I gave up and set the book aside. It's really not nice to snicker at someone's earnest efforts. Also, I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes, which made it impossible to read any more.

I know reader expectations have dropped considerably over the last couple of years, but if this kind of crap is what they expect, they haven't set the bar too low. There simply is no bar.

Image by me while in the Smoky Mountains, circa 2013

Oatmeal Attitude

Good morning. Welcome to my daily bowl of oatmeal, which I have to go and eat as soon as I've finished writing this post. I also have to drink 16 oz. of oatmilk along with it; all of this to help control my cholesterol and give me enough calcium to keep my bones from going snap/crackle/pop.

This is me adulting, as the kids put it. I hate oatmeal. No, really, I hate oatmeal. This hatred is so intense that my holiday gift to myself last year was not consuming it for two weeks. But the new year has arrived, and I have to get back on a healthier diet.

I also have to stop being so sedentary. Edward and I did a one-mile mall walk yesterday, and today (weather permitting) I'm going to do one mile around the neighborhood.* I was doing pretty well with this last year until NaNoWriMo started and I chained myself to the computer for the last weeks of 2020. Also, with no dogs in the house I never go outside anymore. As a result my neck and back are really giving me grief now, so exercise is a must.

I don't think of these things as New Year's resolutions. It's what should be my 24/7 self-maintenance, really. I know how I should be eating. I know I need to get my butt out of this chair. Wanting to hasn't been happening lately. It's like the way writing was last year. It feels hopeless. Only I know it isn't, and I'd like to feel better rather than worse.

So, oatmeal attitude now. Do what I must, and think of it as good rather than awful or hateful or hopeless. I might not like the way it tastes, but it will be good for me.

*Added: Just did that mile with my guy. Nice day to walk, too.

Wishing You

For my friends, also much love, hope and gratitude. You helped get me through the worst times. May we all stay healthy and safe.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay