Tues. Oct. 25, 2022: Life as a Kaleidoscope

image courtesy of Dmitri Posudin via pixabay.com

Tuesday, October 25, 2022

New Moon

Neptune, Chiron, Jupiter, Uranus Retrograde

Saturn DIRECT as of Sunday

Rainy/Sunny/Confusing

Saturn went direct on Sunday, taking a lot of the life lessons pressure off. Now, we have to implement what we learned on this Saturn Retrograde so we don’t have the same lessons smacked at us next time it comes around, next year.

Enjoy the lull this week, because Mars goes retrograde  on the 30^th, and stays there until January 12^th. Mars is already in Gemini until March of 2023, causing stress and difficulties. Going retrograde, through all the holidays, means huge additional stresses. It makes it likely people will be more easily argumentative than usual over the holidays, so try to pull up extra patience and compassion. I talk about that in more detail over on the GDR site, with a post on “Breath Under Duress.”

My plan is to have as quiet a holiday season as possible, with very little socializing (especially since there’s a pandemic going on).

Now, down to our usual Tuesday morning natter, to catch up over the weekend.

Don’t forget: The Process Muse launches tomorrow on Substack. It’s free, and you can sign up here.

Friday morning, I hit the ground running; blogging, making devilled eggs, taking out the garbage, doing the last-minute counter wiping and stainless-steel appliance cleaning.

Our friend showed up and we had a good catch up on all that’s new for both of us. Feasted on the devilled eggs, the black bean soup, the lemon mousse. She had to head back to CT after lunch.

We cleaned up and settled in on the couch to rest. When I checked my email, I found some sad news. An old family friend died last week, in Switzerland. We didn’t even know she was ill. I’d been planning to go and visit the next time I went overseas (which will probably be in 2024).

I had nothing left in the tank, so I gave myself the afternoon off. I finished reading THE SECRET SISTERHOOD, about literary friendships, which was good. I read Joy Harjo’s memoir, POET WARRIOR, which was very well done and uniquely structured.

Charlotte, who’d hidden when my friend was there, because she was afraid she would be given away, was Velcro Kitty all afternoon and evening. And woke me every two hours all night, for reassurances.

Up early on Saturday. Did some work on the outline for THE TREES WHISPERED MURDER. I’m a little worried, because it’s heavy on character and atmosphere, and light on plot. Also, there are so many period details I’ll have to add in when I do the revision. But I at least have a good idea on the first third, and escalating the stakes for Rita, my heroine. This book will definitely be a case of draft fast, revise slowly. I like THE TREES WHISPERED DEATH better as a title, which, it turns out, was my original title, so I’ve changed it back to that.

Turned around a script.

I filled out a writer-in-residence application that comes with a nice stipend. However, because of that, I’m sure they will go with a much bigger name. But if I don’t try, I have zero shot, so I tried.

Went out and got the paint I needed for the bookcases, and a dropcloth. I painted one bookcase completely and started the second one, but ran low on both paint and time.

Read a book by someone whom I met in passing back in my NYC days. It was one of those people I was advised I “should” know, although we were in different arenas. Anyway, I recently came across one of her books in the library (a memoir) and decided to read it. The writing is good. But I don’t like the person I met in those pages. The privilege and the whining are way too much.

Charlotte woke me at 3:30 on Sunday morning, which was not the start to the day for which I’d hoped. But I made apple muffins. I upped the allspice from ¼ teaspoon to ½ teaspoon, and it was a good choice.

Got a nice chunk of work done on the outline for THE TREES WHISPERED DEATH.

Filled out the ballots for the election. Of course I voted Blue all the way down. I’m not an idiot. Or a supporter of fascism.

Got more paint and finished the second bookcase. Not that I know where to put it yet. The first one fit perfectly on top of the other red bookcases in the kitchen, so I cleaned and rearranged all those shelves, and it looks good.

I kept feeling I “should” work all day (on work-work, not house and home stuff). I also felt the flickers of burnout and decided to rest, so I could focus this week and next week, which will be challenging.

I read Alyssa Maxwell’s MURDER AT BEACON ROCK, which was well done and satisfying and sad, all at once. I really like the series. At one point, I fantasized about writing a series set in Gilded Age Newport, but she’s written a better series than I would have, and I no longer need to write one!

There are flutters that Yegads Muskrat is going ahead to buy Twitter and people are fretting about where to go. Tribel Social Network has been urging people to go on it, but I don’t like their policies/terms of service. I think I’ll stick with CounterSocial. If people want to find me, they will. I still can’t get on Ello, which is annoying, since I built so much on there. I’d hate to leave Twitter, but if I have to, I have to.

This is why one needs a website, not just social media.

Had trouble sleeping on Sunday into Monday, which made Monday a late start. But I got some work done on the outline for THE TREES WHISPERED DEATH.

My priority was turning around the edits for my Llewellyn editor. Eek! Thank goodness for her kindness and patience, because some of the stuff she caught there was a big mess. I sent it in early, in case she needs me to do more work. But she said they’re fine, and she assured me she loves the piece (even with the messes we cleaned up).

I did revisions on “My Side of the Bed” and “Paranormal Paraphrasing” and got them submitted, in spite of the computer repeatedly crashing. I managed to get out six script submissions.

Irritated that the regional ML for Nano only wants to interact on Facebook and Discord. When I do Nano, I want to be able to go to the Nano site and get the information I need, not travel to other sites. I go to the Nano site FOR NANO. I’m irritated. I’ll stick to my Enchanted Wordsmiths group and to hell with the region crap. They’re doing stuff in person and you know they won’t implement any COVID protocols. Pass.

More scripts came up in my queue, so I have enough to read at least through tomorrow, and then, hopefully, I’ll get a couple of Thursday and Friday.

Turned around 3 scripts. Started writing a weird new little, short play. Heard that an odd little play I really love, which I wrote and submitted for a specific call, was not chosen as one of the 5 plays they can use for their event. The company wrote a really kind letter about it, but it makes me sad. I’m fond of the piece, and will have to find another spot for it, which won’t be easy, because it’s so specific.

Stepped in for a colleague who had an emergency and couldn’t do a Zoom talk with a group of young playwrights. It was a lot of fun. They had terrific ideas and great questions. It meant I missed the Artist Working Group, but I knew if they held the WG in the evenings, I’d run into conflicts. If they keep it in the evenings permanently, then I’ll withdraw.

Set the alarm for 5 this morning, and woke up just before the alarm went off, waking from a dream that I slept until 9 and missed the alarm. I was very confused when the alarm went off.

Hauled a fuckton of laundry into the car and over to the laundromat. Three large, industrial-sized machines were going, between the clothes (I’ve been lax about going every week), the curtains, and the other fabric-y stuff that’s been turned over for the season.

Sat in the car working on the multi-colored draft of CAST IRON MURDER. The original plan was that it would be ready for submission this past summer, but that didn’t happen. A longer wait time to work on revisions before I start querying was the right choice for this book. The story and characters are strong, but there’s a lot of sloppy writing (which happens, during Nano).

Cleaning up the sloppy writing makes it an even stronger book. But, again, although it’s an amateur sleuth, it’s not a cozy. The book deals with racism, COVID, and the sex lives of the characters.

Didn’t get enough done on the outline for THE TREES WHISPERED DEATH before I had to leave for the laundromat, so that’s been pushed off until tomorrow. I have to type up what I have, so far, so that it’s ready to go. I have a strong opening. I have good backstory to integrate. I’ve drawn maps of who lives where, et al, which in a community such as this one, is necessary for the plot. I know who the murderer is and why that individual committed the murder(s). I have some of the clues and the red herrings, and raising the stakes for my protag. I don’t yet have the climactic sequence, but I’ll get there.

I probably need to walk around the Spruces a bit more, on a nice day, and let it percolate. I do know where the first body drop happens. My friends and I poked around that spot near the river when they came to visit a few weeks back.

I have a feeling I’ll have a lot of placeholders in this draft, since I need to go in and layer period detail. I want to go to the library/historical society and read a batch of newspapers from the months in which this book takes place, and then also do some research on the racial and ethnic relations in the area at the time. I’d hoped to get it done before Nano started, but it will have to be a winter project, and part of the revisions, which will, no doubt, make the revisions more extensive.

There’s a post for The Process Muse in all that! (Don’t forget, it drops tomorrow).

I hope to catch a pocket between rain showers to do a library run, drop off my ballots at City Hall, get some stamps at the post office. There was something else I was supposed to do, but darned if I can remember it.

Episode 27 of Legerdemain drops today. I hope you enjoy it. If you haven’t started reading the serial yet, it starts here.

Have a good one!

Tues. Aug. 9. 2022: Grief Intrudes

image courtesy of Tumisu via pixabay.com

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Waxing Moon

Pluto, Saturn, Neptune, Chiron, Jupiter Retrograde

Hot and humid

Friday feels so far away, I’m not even sure what I did. Fixed SETTING UP YOUR SUBMISSION SYSTEM, and it released. Polished my presentation. Uploaded DEVELOPING THE SERIES for the final proof.

It was so damn hot, that’s all I could do.

I was up early Saturday morning, to go to the Farmers’ Market before my class. It was so hot and humid that I nearly passed out. I got to the air-conditioned grocery store and it took me awhile to cool down enough so that I could think enough to shop.

Home, hauled everything up the stairs, put it away, and had to lie down.

I joined the Zoom for the conference’s keynote speech (with my video off), and it was good. Showered and dressed for my own class. Went over the class materials.

I had the worst possible slot for me (and for everyone else) – 2:45 – 4:45 on a hot Saturday afternoon. But I dug down and found the energy. The participants were enthusiastic and jumped into the exercises and had good questions, so it was a good class.

I was wiped out afterwards, though. Made tacos for dinner. That’s become a go-to for me.

Went to bed early, but it was too hot to sleep. I moved to the sofa in the living room halfway through the night, because there was a breeze.

Thank goodness we have good water pressure, because I’m taking multiple showers a day, just to hose down.

Sunday, I read in the morning (DAVA SHASTRI’S LAST DAY, which is a wonderful novel). A little after noon, I got in the car and headed back to the Edith Wharton homestead, where I went to see a play reading by a local professional company that interests me.

I was there early enough to take a photo of my favorite sculpture in this installation, a dragon.

The play was in the converted stable. The chairs were too close together, and, although it was a requirement to stay masked while inside, too many of the audience members kept slipping their masks down around their chins constantly, when they thought no one was looking. Only white audience members, of course, with their fucking sense of self-entitlement.

The play itself was wonderful, Caryl Churchill’s ESCAPED ALONE. The four actresses were amazing (and all of 70). Truly a professional performance, even as a reading, that gripped the audience and didn’t let go. The stage manager was one of the poets from The World’s Largest Poem, and how I found out about it, and I thanked her for letting me know. She was delighted that I actually followed through and showed up.

There was a really interesting talk back after the reading. Although it was not lost on me that one of the (white) women who talked about how important it was for the community of women to look after and connect and care for each other was one of the ones who’d kept sneaking her mask down during the show. Fucking hypocrite. Don’t give an impassioned speech about the importance of caring in community when you refuse to wear your fucking mask properly for seventy fucking minutes, showing that you actually do not give a fuck about anyone around you. I truly wanted to punch her in the throat, but I refrained.

As we exited the theatre, the skies opened and we were caught up in a downpour. In the few hundred yards to the car, I was completely drenched.

The original plan had been to stay through for a poetry event that started in the same location at 5. It was now just a few minutes after 3. I’d hoped the Terrace Café was still open, to get a drink and a snack, but they closed at 3. It was pouring, so wandering the gardens was not an option. I could sit in my car and be wet for an hour and a half, but then I’d be miserable and couldn’t enjoy the event.

So, I started up the car and drove home. There were times, driving through Lenox and parts of Pittsfield, I thought I would have to pull over, because the rain was so intense, I couldn’t see beyond the hood of the car. By the time I hit Cheshire, I needed my sunglasses again.

It had never even rained at home.

I got out of the car and wrung out my dress as best I could while still wearing it. Yes, I was truly that drenched, even after an hour’s ride in the car. When I got upstairs, I peeled the clothes off, toweled off, and put on other clothes. I’d done a crockpot chicken, so at least I didn’t have to worry about cooking.

Again, to bed early. Again, too hot to sleep well.

Up early on Monday, feeling exhausted. Did a run to the library to drop off/pick up books, mailed some stuff at the post office and got more stamps, and then we headed over to the quilt shop in Williamstown. It is amazing. Truly a fabric wonderland.

I got the fabric I will attach to the back of the Kitchen Island Cart From Hell, and for the new curtains. Because let’s face it, cute little blue curtains with mice who are sewing don’t really work in the kitchen.

Home, lunch, and just could not move through the humidity to work in the afternoon. The computer was glitching. I couldn’t concentrate.

I finally (after a Twitter poll – yes, I was so desperate and in such cognitive dissonance, I asked TWITTER what to do), packed everything up and headed back out to Williamstown to the library there.

Because most people mask.

I’m not sure what they’re doing across the street at the college library. The public library four blocks away no longer requires masks and asks that patrons respect those who choose to wear them (which shouldn’t need to be said). The library in Williamstown “recommends” them, and 98% of the patrons are respectful enough to do so.

So I set up in their hipster lounge and did my script coverage work. I was only there for the last hour and a half of their open hours, but I did more than I usually get done in 4 hours of home heat and humidity.

When I came back out, it was sunny as all get out, with 98% humidity, and puddles everywhere. There’d been a downpour while I was inside.

Drove home, and made a pasta primavera with produce from Saturday’s shopping.

Found out that the extended family member who went into hospice a couple of weeks ago died. I was planning to finish and send off the materials to Saturday’s students, but family stuff needed attention, to I let the conference organizers know it would be a few more days.

The family member who died was elderly. He’d been vaxxed and boosted, but had to go into the hospital and then rehab for non-COVID-related issues. But he’d caught COVID in rehab, and never recovered. He was a quiet, thoughtful, kind, sweet man. He and his wife had been together for 65 years, and have three great sons, all of whom are married, and a passel of terrific grandchildren. He was my grandmother’s brother’s stepson — yeah, I don’t know what that means, either, but we called each other “cousin.”

He could fix anything and was always the first to offer help when someone needed a driveway plowed or a lawn mowed.

The service itself is being kept small, because we’re still in the midst of a pandemic. Instead of flowers, I’m going to respect the family’s wishes and give a donation to their local public library.

I have kept somewhat of a distance from that extended family since the move. When we were stressed and frightened about having to move out, without any idea how to pull it off, the advice from that quarter (though not this particular cousin) was that I should put my mother in a home (because “she’s old, she only needs one room”), get rid of the cats, get rid of all my books and everything else, rent a room in someone’s house, and get a minimum wage job in the hospitality industry. Um, no. While we did not want nor ask for financial help, some emotional support would have been appreciated.

But then, even when I worked on Broadway, that section of the family has always considered me a loafer who should buckle down and get a “real job.”

When we managed to pull off the move (thanks to my theatre friends and writing friends, to whom I will be forever grateful), they were surprised. My mother kept in touch with them, but I really have not, other than Christmas and birthday cards.

However, there’s still a sense of grief and loss. There were lots of good times, since we started going to the big, 60+ people Thanksgiving dinners at the Legion Hall, starting way back in 1972, right after my dad died.

Emotions are layered and messy and more than one thing.

They’re also exhausting.

It’s still terribly hot and humid, and I have a lot to get done today. I’ve written a ritual for a friend who needs some help navigating a difficult situation, so that goes off this morning. I need to write and send off a review for a book I disliked. I need to finish proofing the workbook, so one version can release tomorrow, and the slightly different version can go out to the students.

I need to upload the next episodes for Legerdemain (and promote the episode that drops today).

I have a cooking class tonight with Chef Jeremy (which I love), and the radio play rehearsal was cancelled, so there’s one less thing.

I have to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting with a local baker, where I’m going to help her with some grant possibilities.

I need to polish my poem for Thursday night, and work on the Shakespeare horror story.

I have two scripts and some follow up questions in today’s queue.

I have to make another run to the quilt shop, because there were a few things there we kept thinking about, so we’re just going to go back and get them.

I may pack up this afternoon and work in the library again. I’m not sure yet.

I also need to give myself room to grieve. There were plenty of things the Victorians were overzealous and controlling about, but at least they has a process for mourning, instead of expecting it to be compartmentalized into a day or two.

Hopefully, you are not suffering in the heat, and things are going well for you.

Tues. July 30, 2019: Trying to Keep Steady

Tuesday, July 30, 2019
Dark Moon
Jupiter Retrograde
Pluto Retrograde
Saturn Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde
Hot and humid

I did not have a particularly productive weekend. I wasn’t feeling well. Wrists, shoulders, hips, lower back, knees, all in pain. It was difficult to write.

I got a little bit done on ELLA. Not enough done on GRAVE REACH, and I feel like I’m losing the thread of it again. The deadline looms over me, so I have to get it done. Dig deeper and get it done.

But there was nothing in the tank this weekend.

I managed to get some grocery shopping done, and the recycling out to the dump. Painted some shells. Oiled a small table I picked up. Rearranged some stuff in the living room. Went through a box marked “trinkets” of things that were important to me about twenty years ago. At first, everything looked shabby and sad. Later, as I took each piece out and dealt with it, I decided what to keep and integrate, what to give away, what to toss.

Still have many, many more boxes to go and am running out of time.

We have a fisher on the property. I’m pretty welcoming to wildlife, but not fishers. They are vicious, and this one has an attitude. I don’t want him decimating our wildlife in the yard, or attacking Tessa. I’m not letting Tessa out, and she is angry with me. But I can’t risk her getting killed.

Fisher is part of the weasel family, and weasel is about stealth and paying close attention, so that is what I will do in the upcoming cycle.

While I try to figure out how to encourage him to move on.

Feeling very discouraged in general, and worn down.

But I managed to write the blurb for my friend’s book, which went off yesterday.

I’m still trying to get paid by that client. I thought this one was the exception to the local client rule around here. I was wrong. I’ll send another invoice on Friday, with the late fee. I partially blame myself — because of previous good experience with this client, I waived the partial fee up front. That won’t happen again.

Yesterday was the anniversary of my father’s death. He’s been out of my life longer than he was in it, but it’s still difficult. I did a “happy memories” ceremony for him last night.

The heat and humidity were high yesterday, and will be so again today. I don’t do well in that, either. Work with the client is off-the-charts stressful this week and next week, and then, hopefully, we can have some equilibrium. But yesterday went well, so I hope today and tomorrow will be the same.

All I can do is keep pushing through, and making adjustments as best I can, work toward making the necessary changes. But it’s difficult, disheartening, and slow.

Back to the page.

Wed. Feb. 13, 2019: Life is Short

Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Waxing Moon

Woke up yesterday morning at 1:30 with a blaring headache, due to the incoming storm, and had trouble getting back to sleep.

The storm hadn’t hit by the time I left for client work; but I figured I might have to leave early to get safely home.

Was shocked to find out that a Twitter pal died on Saturday night. We’d had a few exchanges earlier in the day, when she was sitting in the ER. We’d cyber-met because of politics, and she was witty and incisive and had a huge heart. She will be missed. Another Twitter pal is writing a song in her memory.

Reworking the second half of the radio play is making it stronger. It will be ready to go out at the end of the week.

Working on the monologues. I want to test at least one of them next week, at an open mic, but right now, the monologues need more work. They’re not sharp enough. The softer edge gives a whiny quality that I don’t want.

Working on the review, and on contest entries. Have to finish with a book on Canaletto and his patrons today — it’s due back tomorrow to the Commonwealth Catalogue, and I can’t renew it.

Client work yesterday and today. Wore me out. I’m working on new page for the Fearless Ink site, about social media training and social media packages.

Speaking of Fearless Ink, there’s a new post up about Tools and Resources.

Back to the page.

Wed. Sept. 21, 2016: The Shock of a Loss

Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Waning Moon
Mercury Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Sunny and pleasant

Feeling better, which is a good thing. Got some decent work done, both on the new projects, and on starting the next round of edits on DEATH OF A CHOLERIC. Still dithering about turning CONFIDENCE CONFIDANT into a full-length – I think I know what I want to do, so hopefully, this weekend, I’ll just sit down and o it.

Started re-reading some of my favorite books – the Bast series by Rosemary Edghill and the Diana Tregarde series by Mercedes Lackey. That got me thinking about how the Craft has changed since our idealistic, hopeful days in the 90’s (although we thought we were terribly cynical. In reality, we were naïve). That gave me the idea for another project, which I’m playing with.

That also got me thinking about some close friends at the time, with whom I’ve lost touch. I started hunting them down on the internet – and found out that one of the closest friends from that time period died of cancer over a year ago. It’s a shock and a loss. I was friendly with her husband, too – I want to send him a condolence card, but will that reopen the wounds? Yet I feel that I need to acknowledge that I just found out and that I hurt for us both. In fact, I planned to dedicate this new project to them, whether or not I’d manage to reconnect.

So I will.

I have to sit with the loss and mourn. But that what this time of year is about.

Decent writing session yesterday, and this morning. Yesterday afternoon, I did some prep for my next road trip. I’ll have to load up the car tonight. Details Friday.

I also have to prepare a proposal packet that will go out on Friday. I thought I had the pieces with me here and now, but I don’t. I was too shaken when I discovered my friend’s death and didn’t take with me what I needed. To say I can’t believe she’s gone is an understatement. She was one of the most vital, vibrant people I ever met.

I need to run some errands and get back to the page. The page is the best way to create a worthy tribute to my friend.

In sorrow,

Devon

Fri. Nov. 13, 2015: Sad News and Rebel 2 Writing

Friday, Nov. 13, 2015
Waxing Moon
Sunny and windy

Busy day yesterday. We had computer issues at work, which put us in a muddle all day, and limited what we could do. We did a lot of work on the tree.

When the computers finally came back up, we were short-handed, I was trying to catch up, and it was a challenge. But we got a good bit done. I couldn’t get anything catalogued, though; even though the circ computers worked, I couldn’t get Sierra up on my computer to receive books. I couldn’t commandeer a circ computer, because it was busy and they needed them.

I got some sad news in the afternoon – a colleague at the Marine Life Center unexpectedly passed away overnight. He’d just been at the Board meeting on Monday. It’s a shock. We’re all reeling. He was committed, dedicated, funny, and kind, and will be very, very missed.

I was exhausted by the time I got home. Dinner, reading. A novel that was highly recommended, but didn’t do it for me, and another one where the heroine is supposed to be goofy and sweet, but is, in reality, an idiot. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a mystery, so I couldn’t even hope she’d be the next victim.

Overslept this morning, but managed a thousand words, on an outline for the piece that’s been niggling at me. Still, I wrote, so it’s going into Nano total as “Rebel 2”.

Weary and sad. The weekend will be busy, hopefully good busy. I need to run errands and do yard work and write.

I’m getting into my Nano Week 3 head a little early, where I resent anything that takes time from my writing. Oh, wait, I usually do that anyway. 😉

Have a great weekend.

Devon

Wed. Aug. 12, 2015: Cape Cod Writers Conference Wrap-UP & Other Life Stuff

Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Day before Dark Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Venus Retrograde
Uranus Retrograde
Sunny and damp

I had contradictory information about the retrogrades, but I think I’ve got it sorted. Saturn is direct, thank goodness, because I don’t think I can take any more life lessons for awhile. Venus is still retrograde, which explains several things!

So the Cape Cod Writers Conference ran the past few days. It was the happiest I’ve been in months. What a great conference!

I spent most of Friday trying to get the wine tasting ball rolling for our next NMLC special event. I’m supposed to be “helping”, but it’s pretty much all been dumped into my lap. Therefore, I am assigning tasks and expecting them done. Because I CANNOT and WILL NOT do an entire event on my own. Been there, done that, not doing it again.

Raced to the conference in the evening, got situated, caught up with some people. Marge Piercy was the keynote speaker. I love that she won’t compromise her beliefs for fear of “annoying” potential readers. Everyone is told to be so careful and apolitical on social media — no, we have to stand for what we believe in it, work for it, and actually make change! So, I totally admire that about her. Her keynote was rich, almost too rich. There were so many sections, without transition, that one or two sections would have given us plenty to think about, and also given us a foundation to change our lives. Five sections was a little much. I felt like I missed a lot I could have otherwise absorbed and benefitted from, because I was trying to keep up.

Sat with poet Charles Coe, whom I adore, both as a poet and person. We had a good time. And, because I was going to the prose reading instead of the poetry reading, he recited the poem he planned to open with, just for me. What an honor, especially to hear something so beautiful.

After, there were readings. I had a friend reading in the prose section, which was run by another friend, so that’s where I ducked in. This year’s batch of readings were very, very good, and everyone had the chance to comment on them. It was a good evening.

Several of us repaired to the bar after, for a couple of drinks and a good chat. I was the only woman in the group (not planned), and we all had very different backgrounds, so it was an interesting and long-ranging conversation. It was also interesting that the men wanted harsher criticism. I think you can offer constructive criticism without being hurtful in a personal way.

We were there until after midnight, and, on my way home, I stopped at Covell’s beach to do my homework for the settings class.

Saturday morning, I was up early. I wanted to bring something in to the fantasy workshop. However, INITIATE is in a delicate stage where only someone with whom I’ve built trust can help, and the THREE ROADS is structured tightly in a way that didn’t just let me pull a couple of pages out of context.

So I sat down and wrote something new. It was like the piece was forming for me out of the mist. A pair of sisters is central, as is the idea that art is a threat to the throne. Wrote four pages, rushing a couple of scenes a bit because I wanted to get the twist into the page count. But it felt right — that tuning fork of resonance hit the note. So I printed up copies, and there we were.

Worked the registration desk from 10-1, talking to people, helping them find things, etc. At 1, I had the fantasy workshop, with Carol Buggé, who, in addition to being one of my favorite people in the world, is one of the best teachers I’ve ever had the luck to study with. The class was great — a small, but lively group, supportive and interested in each other without getting cloying. People distributed their pieces, we learned a lot, and it was over far too quickly.

Chantelle Osman was also there — I took her wonderful screenwriting class last year, and was sorry I couldn’t take her class this year, but at least we got to chat here and there for a few minutes over the course of the weekend.

I ran into Indira Ganesan at the cabana window, and we sat together “just being” (quiet) for awhile. She’s a good one to be with in companionable silence.

She had a 3 PM appointment, and I stayed outside in the beautiful weather a little longer to write, then went in a bought books by both Indira and Claire Cook, the night’s keynote. Claire arrived, and got settled, and then I went in to Indira’s setting class — about a dozen people. We rearranged the room to be more of a circle, and wrote in class, then each read our scenes. There was a lot of good writing in the class, and I was also delighted that my scene, which was both painful and funny, hit home and got a lot of laughs.

That made me realize how much confidence I’ve lost in my work over the past few months, and made me start thinking about where I need to go from here, and what decisions to make.

Immediately over to the ballroom to hear Claire Cook — what a nice person, and what a terrific inspiration. She’s learned how to make the best of everything, and how to enjoy the journey. I can learn a lot from her.

If I ever reach the point where I think I can’t learn from others, I hope someone wallops me upside the head with a cast iron skillet!

Didn’t go to the banquet, because I had a previous commitment. Took care of that, then settled in to do my homework for class, commenting on my fellow students’ work for the fantasy class. I like the fact, this year, so many people are working on things that are different, not just mimicking already published work.

Up early on Sunday, baked cinnamon rolls, tried to relax before going in. We got some sad news about a family member with a long-term illness — hospice is in there now, so it’s a matter of days. That will change many things for a lot of us.

Worked the registration desk again in the morning. I’m happy that the entire Board stepped up for the conference and was a presence, much more so than last year. It makes a huge difference in the energy and morale of the conference.

Carol’s workshop was, of course, fabulous, and the four pages I’d written in an hour went over very well. The feedback was VERY helpful (which isn’t always the case in workshops), and people are eager to read more. So, more there will be. The piece goes into the queue.

Helped clean up post-conference, loaded all the easels into the car for Mermaid Ball, and the big posters for the conference — they wouldn’t fit in Sara’s car and people just stood around like the office was in Puerto Rico instead of Osterville. Puh-leeze. Stick ’em in my car and I’ll get ’em back.

Collapsed at home — no voice, absolutely exhausted. Read a bit and early to bed.

Sad news on Monday morning — my mom’s best friend died unexpectedly over the weekend. They were both in their 90s, and had been best friends since they were 14. It’s tough on my mom. I wish I could do more for her.

Had to go on vocal rest on Monday because of the voice problems. Could feel the bleeding, and it was painful. Carrying around a pad to write everything down, trying not to act like a bad Central Park Mime. Did some work on the wine event, dropped off a note for Mezza Luna to get the ball rolling on our NYU Alumni Event, dropped off the easels at NMLC, put gas in the car, came home and rested.

Let the fantasy piece I worked on in the workshop percolate. I know my anchoring protagonists and have a working title. I know how I’d like to expand the pages I wrote for class into a legitimate opening chapter.

Watched the last two episodes of season 1 of LINE OF DUTY on Monday night. It’s so well done, and, ultimately, so depressing!

Wanted to sleep in on Tuesday, but the cats weren’t having it. Managed to get the posters back to the writers’ center office before the rain started, then came back home to write and sleep.

It amazes me how much I’ve lost in the past months, especially when it comes to my work. The best way I can put it as that my writing has been out of tune, and when the writing isn’t working, nothing else works, either. I know WHY and I have a good idea of WHAT changes need to be made, but the details of the changes are something else altogether. The weekend gave me confidence and perspective, and it’s the first time I’ve been happy in months. Decisions need to be made from there.

Rested a lot, trying to get my feet back under me for a busy week at work, and then the Mermaid Ball. Worked on the world-building for the writing, enriching the environment, because that’s such a huge part of the characters and their conflicts — and their secrets.

Violet, my oldest and smallest cat, was sick yesterday afternoon, so I went out in the monsoon to get her organic baby food. That seems to have settled her stomach, and she’s much better today, thank goodness. I think it was a reaction to the flea and tick medicine.

Started watching the first season of PIE IN THE SKY, which is charming. Thoroughly enjoying it. Lots of gentle wit in the dialogue, yet it’s still a cop show. The structure is amazing.

Also enjoying Claire Cook’s NEVER TOO LATE, her non-fiction book on reinvention. To cheer up my mom during this difficult time, I’ve gotten her a stack of Claire Cook’s novels and a stack of Barbara Delinsky’s novels. There’s a warmth to both of their writing that’s necessary right now.

Mezza Luna is excited to have the NYU Alumni do their meet-and-greet., so that will get sorted, and there’s more work to do on the wine event.

This morning, the family in Maine said our relative wasn’t supposed to last the night, but sat up and asked for breakfast this morning! 😉

Some writing this morning (back on track with my first 1K of the day), then a long day at work. It’s too hard to have the conference and the Ball so close together. If it’s scheduled that way again next year, I’ll have to only do one. Today is always my lowest energy day of the month anyway (being the day before the dark moon), but now, all I REALLY want to do is sleep.

Also working on the questions for the GOALS, DREAMS AND RESOLUTIONS site for 2016. I want to post them in September, or, latest, October, so that we all have time to think about them. I think I might tweak the site a bit, too, with more suggestions and resources instead of everyone just working so much alone.

I need to update my websites, too.

I had a great idea for a short story, a comic science fiction that anyone who knows me well will get a good laugh out of! I’m figuring 1500 words or less, comic, with the last beat being a little disturbing. Got several of the characters and the setting, so it should flow pretty quickly.

Hope you had a wonderful weekend and are enjoying summer, and that this week is even better!

Devon

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Dark Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Uranus Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Sunny and cold

I had to re-title my essay on Sir Terry Pratchett’s popular character of Death for A Biblio Paradise — my original title might have hit the internet as an incorrect report on the man’s condition. Anyway, I hope you’ll hop on over and give it a read. Another example for the need to use specific, clear language when one writes.

Worked hard to catch up with my students. Had to crack the whip over some of them in the year long, because they’re starting to drift and get behind. January 31, when they have to have their first draft DONE, isn’t all that far away.

The owner’s still working on the roof. Hey, I’m happy to have it fixed, and he’s not using power tools, so the sounds of the work don’t bother me at all. Got all 125 tulip bulbs in yesterday afternoon. My fantasy of a bed of tulips far in the back remains a fantasy — I’d need heavy machinery to dig. The spade hits too much rock. Oh, well. They’re in the terraced bed, and a strip down the side of the house in No Man’s Land, and two beds near the bottom of the driveway (high enough so Idiot Boy doesn’t drive over them when he maneuvers in and out of his garage and onto my yard — that’s why the owner’s daughter sunk a boulder at the bottom of the driveway — she was sick and tired of him not respecting the yard), and two patches of tulips in the beds across the front of the house. We’ll see what comes up. If most of them come up, it should be quite pretty.

The eggplants and green peppers are still doing well, so I transplanted them to pots and will bring them inside. The six foot tall eggplant inside (our Big King) is producing more eggplants, so who am I to tell it that growing season’s past? And our tomatoes are doing well. I may have to get a grow light and move them inside to mature.

Deadheaded the mums — the ones we put in the ground have all faded, which is a disappointment. I’d hoped they would last through Samhain. But that’s the way it goes. We’ll see what happens next year.

I’m sore from all the digging, and the TV is out today. Comcast, in all its “wisdom” (there, now, don’t choke) made an “upgrade” that knocked out service. Typical of those morons. As long as the internet keeps working, though, right? I don’t watch that much TV anyway.

I watched the premiere of ONCE UPON A TIME on Sunday night, though, and liked it better than I expected. I’m interested to see how they develop it. The actors are having fun, and that comes across nicely.

Decent morning’s work on the book. Re-shaping the outline as the book’s thematic structure becomes clearer. I’m pretty sure it’s a trilogy, and will move the end of book 1 a little further into the story instead of where I ended the first third of the outline. Will run some errands, do some more work with students, work on the assignment for Confidential Job #1, and then see if I can get some more writing in later. Maybe not on this book, maybe on something else, but I’m not spending enough of each day actually WRITING, and the whole point of doing this is to WRITE.

Devon

Today’s word count: 1081
Total word count: 38,309

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Interior, Library of Congress

Thursday, November 19, 2009
Waxing Moon
Uranus Retrograde

I’m on the road all day, headed back to NY. I’ve got a post up on Kemmryk about loss, since this is the first anniversary of my grandmother’s death.

I am so sore that I’m almost looking forward to the long bus trip back home!

Hit the ground running early — breakfast at the same great cafe as yesterday. Again, here are the highlights — I’ll be doing some essays to go into more detail in a few days:

Ford’s Theatre — where Abraham Lincoln was shot. Didn’t go in — too many noisy kids. Loved the real gas lights outside. The Petersen House — where Lincoln died — was closed today because it’s getting re-roofed.

Library of Congress — I had no idea that it’s just about the most beautiful building in America. And Jefferson’s “starter collection” library practically made me weep with joy — especially since he read novels as well as Aristotle!

Supreme Court — they were busy and working and tons of security.

Folger Shakespeare Library — lovely, unusual exhibition on the way Elizabethans imagined China.

US Botanic Garden — can you imagine, there are roses still in bloom outside in mid-November?

Museum of the American Indian — stunning and amazing and fascinating and wonderful and somewhat sad. I found some wonderful books and also joined the Smithsonian Institute as a member. It’s worth it — there’s no admission in any of the museums, and I’ve gotten far more out of them than membership cost.

National Gallery of Art — lovely galleries, one of the worst meals in recent memory.

Visits with politicos — very quick and friendly; Capitol HIll was VERY busy today. Good. That’s why we pay ‘em. Unfortunately, I think I’ve developed an allergy to politicians — I start sneezing around them.

Hirschorn Museum — I ducked in to see the Anne Truitt exhibit because I love her TURN so much. And found a book I really, really needed in the store.

“The Castle” — the original Smithsonian building — absolutely gorgeous.

Hit the Macy’s sale on the way back, since the sale was about 75% off. No skirts. Too hot. I lasted 12 minutes, and remembered why I hate shopping in department stores so much, and, until the recent skirt kerflamma, I hadn’t been in a department store other than Target in years.

Back to the hotel, really sore and hurting. Downed a couple of Advil, read the paper (I LOVE the print version of the WASHINGTON POST), and went to a local Italian place for dinner, which was excellent, although I’m not sure why they were playing Spanish guitar music in an Italian restaurant.

Back to the hotel, soaked (this time in bath salts). Tried to figure out how I wound up with so many books to haul back — I thought I was SO careful. Thank goodness I made them ship up all those government reports.

Packed, typed up notes, worked on some writing.

Tomorrow, I have to hit the ground running yet again in preparation for Maine next week and getting the Christmas story finished so it can get out to the printer.

Devon

Friday, November 21,2008

Friday, November 21, 2008
Waning Moon
Neptune Retrograde
Cloudy and cold

It snowed yesterday, which cheered me up, especially since I didn’t have to go out in it! It was just flurries, but it was fun.

Yesterday was tough. The shock of the death wore off, and the reality set in. It comes in waves – I’m okay for awhile, until I’m not. Spoke with the family up in Maine; they’re looking forward to having us come up next week. We’re all relieved that my grandmother is no longer suffering, but it’s a big hole in all our lives.

You know it’s not a good day when I get into a cleaning frenzy! 😉

I got the next assignment from Confidential Job #1, which I plan to do this weekend, so I can invoice them before the holidays!

I spent most of the day revising and designing both “The Ramsey Chase” and the Nina Bell Christmas Story, which is now entitled “Too Much Mistletoe”. “The Ramsey Chase” is within a whisker of going up – I hope to get it up today or tomorrow – the first official Penny’s Dreadful release! I’m excited. The cover photo is something I took in Cornwall when I visited a few years back, and I think it fits the mood well. It’s a fun piece, and I hope everyone enjoys it.

Which means I have to start the first Mick Feeney adventure today or tomorrow! 😉

I had a good morning’s work on the mystery today, cracking 50K. The temptation is to stop, but that’s just going to drag everything else down. What I can do is now push less, drop back to a saner 1500 words/day instead of pushing for the 2500. But now I’m in the rhythm of the piece, so maybe I’ll keep it up. I have to play it all by ear. I’ve got so many deadlines coming up in December and January that I have to stay on track. I’m not complaining; I just want to find a sane way to get it all done.

Off to the city for some errands this morning, then back to deal with some business correspondence and back to the page.

Devon

Untitled Helena Francis Mystery –50,179 words out of 50,000 (Nano goal)

50 / 50 (100.0%)

Untitled Helena Francis Mystery – 50,179 words out of est. 75,000 (total goal)

50 / 75 (66.7%)

Devon’s Bookstore:

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Visit the site for the Jain Lazarus adventures.

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Full Circle: An Ars Concordia Anthology. Edited by Colin Galbraith. This is a collection of short stories, poems, and other pieces by a writers’ group of which I am a member. My story is “Pauvre Bob”, set at Arlington Race Track in Illinois. You can download it free here: