Most of the day was spent on class preparations, which was a good thing. I’m still shuffling and reshuffling some of the slides. I’m still switching out some images. I’m going to run the presentation a few times today for timing, and probably cut a few things.
I wrote up one of the script coverages.
I got out some LOIs. I got frustrated at a few companies who don’t even read the materials, just make demands for unpaid work as part of the pre-interview process. They can take their assessments and shove them right up their collective ass. You want me to take a test? Fine. You will pay me for my time.
Wild Oats is going to require masks inside again, which is a relief. I think I’m going to skip in-person networking events until spring. Even vaccinated, I just don’t feel comfortable enough to be around people I don’t know inside. Even outside, I’d rather have 60 feet between us than 6.
I mean, I’ve been wearing masks in stores and buildings all along, but I’d much rather it was a requirement than a request.
Had a good first writing session this morning; got in my four pages. The piece is following the themes that originally intrigued me, but also taking on a shape of its own. I’m following where it leads for now; in the next draft, I’ll impose more on it, craft-wise. This draft, I’m trying to figure out what I want to say, and what I want to explore.
I’m going to work on the class today, finish off the handouts and upload them so they can be downloaded after tomorrow’s class. I have two coverages to write up, and one script (so far) to read. Looks like I’ll be reading over the weekend, which I’d hoped not to do. But with teaching tomorrow and doing a storage run next week, that removes two reading days from my work schedule, so I have to work through the weekend to make my nut,
Meditation soon, and then, back to the page. It hasn’t decided if it’s going to rain or clear up. If it rains, I’ll stay in. If it clears up, I have books to return to the public library, and more to get out.
There were two black cats wandering the neighborhood this morning. One sat and watched what was going on, then followed her person back home. The other was the tall, lean cat I met in the parking lot a week or so ago. She sauntered across the street, paused to acknowledge me as I greeted her from the porch, then strolled onto the porch of the house next door. I hope they don’t get hit by a car. I worry about cats outside.
It’s cool in the early mornings and in the evenings. Not Autumn cool, but cool. It’s nice. It’s supposed to get warm and humid over the weekend and into next week, so I’m enjoying this while I can.
Got some work done in the early morning. Late morning, I took a stroll down to the post office. They are now requiring masks to enter, which is a good thing. I continued up the hill to the public library, where I dropped off books and took my time browsing to pick up new books (masked, of course). The staff has always been masked, and more patrons are now masked than even a couple of weeks ago.
I took my time walking home (“home” – what a wonderful word) along Church Street, basking in the wonderful architecture and plants. There’s a roof that’s all painted tile – I’ll have to go back and photograph it, it’s gorgeous. There’s so much detail in the trim on these houses, and carvings in the porticos. Really beautiful, even in the houses that need a little TLC. The architecture in the photo at the top of this post reflects what’s in this neighborhood, even though it’s a stock photo and not of this actual neighborhood.
Drove over to Wild Oats Market to drop off my membership paperwork. Discovered that they have a Little Free Library there, which makes me like them even more. Picked up a few things at Stop & Shop. I was planning to only get oat milk, eggs, butter – but I wound up buying four bags’ worth of stuff. We’ll use it all, so it’s not a problem. I have one eye on what we need immediately, and one eye on what we’ll need, should we need to isolate in a few weeks, be it from COVID, the weather, or a combination.
I keep honing and changing the slides for Friday’s class – all part of the process. Putting the images with them will be fun, but time-consuming, and that’s a big part of today’s work.
Read two scripts, which means I have three coverages to write, and I’ll have to get at least some of that done today.
Made pizza for dinner, because I was too tired to cook.
There’s more RWA chaos going on. Makes me glad I never joined the organization. It’s got to be heart wrenching for the people who’ve put so much time, energy, and affection into it.
I haven’t commented on the Olympics at all because I’m not watching any of it. I disagree with the choice to go forward with the games, and am therefore not watching it. Which also leads to me not engaging in any discussions about it, because the only information I have is second or third hand. So I am shutting the hell up.
Slept well. Was eager to get back to the writing, but the 1K wasn’t easy this morning. At the end of yesterday’s session, I thought I knew where I was going with the next scene – which, this morning, I decided to skip, because it really didn’t drive the story or reveal character in a way that I needed. So, while I had most of it in my head, none of it went on the page, and I went on to the next scene.
Skipped my yoga this morning, which was a big mistake, so might do a longer session in the late afternoon, before dinner.
I found out that my public library card allows me access to the Williams College Library, which makes me so happy. Between the college library across the street and Williams College Library, I should be able to do all the research I need on Marie Collier for my play. I have most of what I need for the Dawn Powell/Dorothy Parker play, but I have to re-read the material in order to form the rest of the play. I have a strong opening for it, with a good tone, and now I need the details for the rest of it.
Remote Chat is today, which is always fun.
I’ve been spending far too much time on social media lately, mostly because of the general sense of burnout and malaise I still feel, and need to cut back. It doesn’t make me feel better, just more fatigued, even though there are a lot of people whose virtual company I enjoy.
But it’s getting in the way of the work, and the work is starting to feel better, finally. Protecting the work is important; therefore, I have to make choices to support that protection.
Back to the page – well, the class slides, anyway. Have a great day.
I didn’t manage my time properly, so I ended up writing up script coverage all weekend. I need to figure things out better, so I have weekends off from the coverage, or it’s just too much.
I found out that a new independent bookstore opened, within walking distance. My first instinct was to run right over and check it out. However, I decided to wait until I get paid, so that I can actually spend money there (not just buy one thing because I feel like I can’t go in without buying something, but buy several things and give them some serious business). I also discovered that, at Norad Mill, on the way to Wild Oats Market, is a yarn store. I don’t need more yarn – I have so much in storage. But there’s a yarn store, so you know I’m going to go there.
The list of possibilities for upcoming Artist Dates grows. And that is a good thing.
I like that there are places I can frequent within walking distance.
Norad Mill also has a yoga studio, with strict vaccine rules for in-studio work. Even with that, that everyone needs to be vaccinated, masks are welcome within the studio, I’m not sure if I feel comfortable going back into the studio. There’s another studio (near the new bookstore), but it’s online only right now. As much as I’d like to go back to class, I’m not sure, even with precautions and protocols, I feel comfortable enough so to do. I feel like I’d need a separate set of mat, blocks, props, etc. to take to class that would need to be decontaminated and kept separate from my daily mat and blocks I use at home.
But it’s nice to know that the studios here follow protocols. Unlike the studio on Cape, where, during the height of it all last year, pre-vaccine, people could be inside without masks.
I received sad news. The Broadway colleague fighting COVID, who seemed to be improving, died of a heart attack on Friday night. He was a sweet, gentle soul who is an enormous loss.
It also increases my rage against anti-vaxxers. They are domestic terrorists, walking biological weapons, and need to be dealt with as the murderers they are.
Saturday, I put the cat condo back up. It’s in a corner of the living room. Because the ceilings are so much higher here, it doesn’t dominate the room, the way it did in the Cape house. The cats aren’t sure about it yet. It has to be their idea to go back into/onto it.
Worked on unpacking/setting up my office some more. It’s better, it’s workable, but I want it wonderful, and it’s not there yet.
The new Eureka vacuum arrived. It’s wonderful. It was also horrifying to see how much dirt was in the rugs that the other vacuum hadn’t picked up. But now, we’re finally getting things clean.
When I lived a block from Times Square, in NYC, the constant cleaning was discouraging. I’d scrub everything down; an hour later, there was a light layer of soot and grime over everything. When we first moved to the Cape, a decade ago, things were a little gritty because it’s sandy (beaches have sand), but, overall, it was cleaner. However, it got progressively dirtier, as trees are cut down, and there were the constant mowing/leaf blowing/chain saws. The dirt had an oily residue from all the machinery in constant use. Even with regular house cleaning, it was difficult to get it clean, much less keep it clean. As we unpack, even though we cleaned things before the move, everything needs a second, thorough scrub.
The dirt and dust, at least so far, is a different, lighter consistency. So far, at least, it’s easier to clean, even though we technically live in a city.
Who knew there were so many kinds of dirt? Not soil, but dirt.
Sunday was about some more unpacking. There are still a few boxes in the living room that need unpacking, but it’s not stuff for the living room. And we need to rearrange some stuff, and decide what to put on the mantel. So far, nothing looks quite right. Our mirrors are the wrong size and shape. I feel as though it should be a painting. If we keep the porcelain figurines (which have been in the family for generations and keep getting hauled around) on the mantel, I feel it should be a pastoral scene with a lake (for feng shui, there needs to be water over a fireplace, even if it’s not a real one), so it looks like the figures stepped out of it. If we move the figures (although who knows where), it can be some other sort of painting, as long as there’s a watery vibe to it (but not a sinking ship type of thing; not good for feng shui).
I tried putting the pieces I brought back from Australia oh, so long ago, when my play was produced there, but they don’t look or feel right there, either. They will probably go in my office.
Monday morning, in my first writing session of the day, I passed my daily quota, for the first time in months. It felt good. I’m getting back in synch with my creativity. I’m starting, slowly, to feel like myself again. The self I was when I moved so optimistically to the Cape ten years ago (nearly eleven now), although I doubt I’ll ever feel that level of optimism about anything ever again.
Got out some LOIs, caught up on email. Worked on the class presentation. Walked down to the post office to mail a few things.
I can see the college library from my front windows. So, yesterday morning, I walked over and got a Community Card. I have permission to both check books out of the library and to work in the library (it was practically empty today and everything is well spaced, but if COVID numbers keep going up, I doubt I will). Everyone at the college – students, faculty, staff, vendors – is required to be fully vaccinated, at least. But I don’t want to push my luck.
For research, it’s a fantastic library. Lots of books I can’t find anywhere else. I only checked out two books, but they will keep me busy for a bit!
Home, tried to get back to work, had a bad case of the I Don’t Wannas. Did a little unpacking and rearranging.
Worked on some script coverage. Started the next book I have to review. Paid some bills.
An interesting call for a flash fiction submission landed in my inbox, so I’m playing with some ideas.
Spent some time on the acupressure mat, with the eye pillow on, and Willa was absolutely convinced I was dying, and it was her job to resuscitate. Poor cat. Her original human, who gave her up because he was too sick to take care of her and of Charlotte, must have been in bad shape.
At least I’m sleeping better.
As I’m roaming around the neighborhood, learning my way about, I’m meeting various neighbors. People are good about distancing when unmasked outside, and everyone in the area is vaccinated (most are connected to the college, or to other companies that insist on vaccination). The timbre of conversation here is so different than it was on Cape.
For comparison:
Topic: My life and work in New York, and it comes up that I worked backstage on Broadway for years.
Typical Cape Cod response: “Oh, so you were fired and came here? But I bet you still have connections. How soon can you get me free tickets? There are lots of shows I want to see, but I’m not paying those prices.”
Berkshires: “I bet you got to work on some cool projects and with some talented people.”
(For the record: I was not fired. I was aging out, and wanted to leave while I still loved it).
Topic: Professions. I’m asked what I do for a living, and I respond with “writer.”
Typical Cape Cod: “What’s your real job?”
Berkshire: “Can we get together one day to take a walk around the lake/get coffee and talk about how you approach character and plot? I’m vaccinated, I promise. I’m trying a few things, and I’d love to hear how you do it.”
See the difference?
Not everyone on Cape was like that, of course. The people who became my friends weren’t like that, or we wouldn’t have formed friendships. But, at networking or Chamber Events or Writers’ Center events or art openings, meeting and chatting with new people, that same response came up over and over and over again, for years.
Not that it’s perfect here. The Town Clerk still hasn’t responded to my request to change voter registration (which, according to the Secretary of State’s office has to be done here), and the equivalent of my health organization hasn’t responded to any of my requests for information. The original requests went in nearly a month ago. The local chamber of commerce hasn’t responded to my request for information (although the larger 1Berkshires has).
But when I meet people and talk to them, I’m met with interest, rather than the hostility of “you think you’re so great because you work in the arts, but you can’t be that great or you wouldn’t live here” which I got pounded with constantly on Cape for years.
It’s not about my view of my own “greatness.” It’s the fact that this is my profession, not my hobby, I put in the work, and earn my living at it.
Up early this morning, wrote my 1K in longhand. It felt good. There’s stuff I need to research, details, but the writing itself feels good, even though the story itself is light years away from what I usually do. Stretching is a good thing.
The bulk of today’s focus will be on the materials for class: finishing up the Power Point presentation, putting together the handouts. My host is doing maintenance, so I can’t upload anything until tomorrow, but if it’s ready to go, that means I can upload, test, and troubleshoot before Friday’s class.
I also have to make another trip to the post office, and then I’ll swing by the public library to return books/pick up books. I think it’s nice enough to walk today, so that’s what I’ll do. Walking more is both a good way to learn the area, and a way to regain fitness and strength. It’s safe to walk around here, too. People aren’t idiots, and don’t roam in unvaccinated packs, like they did on Cape. Even when we’re unmasked and vaccinated, we give each other room, passing on the sidewalk, etc. None of this invading personal space and literally blowing on the backs of people’s necks that the assholes did during the pandemic on Cape, thinking it was “funny.”
Got to do a grocery run, too. I’m out of oat milk. I put cow’s milk in my coffee this morning, and that was a mistake. We need a few things like eggs and butter, too.
Time to get back to work. Slowly, I’m finding my work rhythms again. I still get tired quickly, and have to take more breaks, but taking breaks isn’t a bad thing. When I take proper breaks, I’m more focused and productive when I actually work.
And I’m soooo much more productive working fully remotely than going into someone else’s office.
Back to the page, hoping for a good day, on multiple levels.
Everything yesterday took much longer than it should have. Some days are like that.
Meditation group was great, and it was a good way to start the day.
Wrote and submitted a book review; got my next assignment. Caught up on email, got out an LOI, wrote up a long script coverage.
Participated in Freelance Chat, where the topic was burnout, and it’s comforting to know we’re not alone in it. And again, the pandemic stress is layered on top of the burnout, which makes everything ten time harder. Or a hundred times harder.
My Broadway colleague is making progress in his fight against COVID. That’s at least, good news.
Wrote up another script coverage in the afternoon, and started a third. I’d hoped to write up four, but that wasn’t happening.
Participated in one of Creative Capital’s discussions, “Artist Roles in Reimagining the Social.” It was a terrific discussion, Kenneth Bailey, the head of Design Studio for Social Intervention, is interested in keeping the conversation going, and I have a few ideas, which I will write up and send off later today.
Leftovers for dinner, nothing interesting. Read two more scripts, which have to be written up today, in addition to the other one and a half scripts that need to be written up.
Big storm last night, with thunder and wild lightning. I’m getting a little tired of all the rain, and worried that the rivers will overflow.
Playing with some story ideas, seeing where they lead. One is well in my wheelhouse, but a different slant; another is a bit further out, but playing with characters and ideas similar to what I’ve done before; the third is pretty far out of what I usually do, which is part of why it’s interesting. It’s fun to noodle without pressure, and it’s leading me back to the work that’s on deadline.
We had to deal with a centipede in the bathtub this morning, which was NOT fun.
Getting back into daily yoga practice is good. Even only two weeks in, I can feel the difference. I may add in another yoga session just before bedtime.
Today is about finishing up the script coverage, so I don’t have to do any this weekend. I need to unpack over the weekend, and do some work on my class that’s next Friday. I also have to do a quick trip to Wild Oats to pick up a few things and put in my membership.
The new vacuum is supposed to arrive today. I’m excited to try it out.
I plan to do some writing over the weekend, but most of it will be devoted to unpacking, and to celebrating Lammas.
This is the 49th anniversary of my father’s death.
Yesterday was a heavy reading day. I got some writing done in the morning, caught up on email, etc. Got out a script coverage. Participated in Remote Chat.
In the afternoon, I read the book for review, and two more scripts.
Which means today has to be a heavy writing day, with four script coverages and a review to write up, not to mention working on my short articles and next week’s class.
I’m jotting down ideas for upcoming posts on both the GDR site and Ink-Dipped Advice. Those blogs will start up again in the coming weeks. I don’t want to start everything all at once, because then it will be overwhelming. I’m going to stockpile material and then stagger the starts of the various blogs’ returns. I’d like to always be about a month ahead. That gets sticky for some of the GDR posts, because the nature of that blog is immediate and mutable, at least for the posts at the start, end, and mid-month. But the Monday “tools and resources” posts can be done ahead of time.
I’m working on the questions for 2022, which should be interesting, considering what we’ve all been through, and what we’re facing.
One of the things I’m doing now, in the morning, after my first writing of the day/yoga/meditation/shower, is to get dressed properly. When I cleaned out my clothes before the move (and donated oh, so much from my NYC life), I found a lot of cool, interesting pieces that both fit and are comfortable. So now, I’m wearing them.
There’s no reason I can’t be comfortable in my clothes as a remote worker and still look good/professional. Those are not mutually exclusive. I’ve never been someone who can work in pajamas. Pajamas mean sleep. I have enough sleep issues; working in pajamas would only complicate them. And I’d gotten into the habit of wearing the same few items over and over again. I have a whole closet and drawers full of great pieces which make me feel good. Why not wear them? I use the good china “just for us.” Why not the same with clothes?
Do I sometimes still need to change out of writing pants to put on “real people pants” to go out and run errands? Yes. But that’s getting to be more the exception than the rule. I always put on lipstick, even under the masks. For years, I’ve said I can be stark naked, but as long as I wear lipstick, I feel dressed. That’s still true. I’m also putting on a little bit more makeup, too, whether I plan to leave the house or not. I do it for me. After all, I have the monthly IPSY subscription – why not use it, instead of stockpiling? Not just when I have Zoom meetings, but because it makes me feel good.
I’d started wearing my rings again (for those of you who know me, I generally wear 8 rings, each with a specific story/meaning), I stopped wearing rings and most jewelry when I left the house during last year’s portion of the pandemic because of the decontamination protocols – I’d have to decontaminate all the jewelry every time I returned. Once the decontamination protocols eased, I’ve been wearing jewelry again out and about. But now, that numbers are going back up, and we’re talking about putting the protocols back in place, I’m not doing it as often.
I’m tired of having my life dictated by the tyranny of the stupid and the selfish. Anti-vaxxers should be banned from public spaces. Let THEM be the ones forced into isolation for the coming months. Stop punishing the people who’ve worked hard to do what’s right for themselves, their families, and their communities for the past eighteen months. I have no problem continuing to wear a mask until the vaccine is developed for kids, we can vaccinate kids, and we can get 97% or more of the population vaccinated. No problem. It’s a mask. It’s not a big deal. I DO have a problem with selfish idiots refusing to do their part and helping the virus mutate and kill more people. Those individuals need to be held accountable for the damage they inflict on others. And not allowed to cause any more damage.
Anyway, I’m joining the online meditation group this morning, and then it’s all about writing reviews and script coverage. If I can fit it in, I might participate in Freelance Chat at noon, but I’m not counting on it.
The days are getting shorter. When I first got up, just before 5, it was too dark to write out on the porch. I may get a battery-operated camp lantern out there (mine is, of course, in storage – will see about bringing it back when we do the storage run).
Our old Hoover vacuum is not working properly. It’s about 30 years old, so it’s definitely put in its time. I ordered a new Eureka vacuum from Chewy, and it should be here tomorrow. It says a lot that I am so excited by the thought of a new vacuum!
Sunshine! And not too hot and humid. What a nice change. It was, however, cool enough to need a blanket in the night.
I got some work done yesterday morning, and script coverage out. Because the sun was out, we got into the car and drove to Williamstown (which is lovely, even during Festival), and then up to Bennington, VT. Bennington is a lovely town, with lots of great stuff in it (not to mention the college). We also stopped at a thrift store, and bought a lovely little teapot (because all my teapots are in storage, and we have an entire moving box with loose teas), two matching floral cups and saucers, and I found a blue and white Spode cup and saucer that I had to rescue, too.
Because you know how I am about orphaned china.
We drove back on 7 South, towards Pittsfield. It’s pretty, but it’s not a faster drive than Rt. 8. We did, however, find the Target in Lanesborough. I thought they were still building it. Turns out it is the only store in the Berkshire Mall. It’s like they built a mall, and nobody came. Supposedly, there are 22 stores in it, but it looked closed and empty, except for Target.
While I’d much rather buy from independent local stores, I still prefer Target to Walmart. We stocked up on some cleaning supplies, etc., then headed back on Rt. 8, swung by the liquor store, and got home just before another rainstorm hit.
My Tamed Wild box arrived, and it’s gorgeous, crystals and a lovely necklace, etc. My contributor copies for the 2022 WITCHES’ COMPANION also arrived. I’m excited to read it. Of course, I checked my article first, and it looks good. I also realized I never read all of this year’s COMPANION (which also has one of my pieces in it), so I’m reading through that, and thoroughly enjoying it.
Fish and chips for dinner, and then wrote up another script coverage. I have one more to write up this morning, and then I’m done for the weekend. I’m going to work on short articles for Llewellyn this morning, and then read the book for review this afternoon.
It might be nice enough to sit on the back balcony to read later, which would be nice. And I want to get some writing done on a fiction project.
The daily yoga is helping, although I’m still far too exhausted and in too much pain for this far past the move. We’re almost finished unpacking the kitchen, and I did a little work in the sewing room. There’s a dearth of electrical outlets (one per room), so it will be interesting to figure out how to run extension cords in a way that doesn’t cause people/cats to trip.
This weekend, I hope to get more unpacking done in my room and in my office. I can function in my office, but I want it to be a lovely, creative space. It has wonderful natural light. And the router is strong enough so I can work from anywhere in the house, so I can change up work spaces as I want.
Have a great weekend, my friends, and I’ll see you on the other side.
Yesterday wasn’t as productive as I hoped, but that’s the way it goes sometimes. Got some work done in the early morning. Got through most of the emails, so that it’s now manageable, and I can work through the rest that need attention.
Finessed a few things in the one-act version of “Confidence Confidant” and sent it in response to a call for submission. Have a couple of other plays to send off today and tomorrow.
Dropped off/picked up books at the library. I’m not happy about the two-book checkout limit until October. If I had a history of not returning books/piling up fees, I could see it, but I don’t.
Found the Big Y grocery store, although the Google directions were wrong (as usual). It’s a big, lovely store. Still doesn’t have enough Asian or Latin foods, so I will have to hunt for other stores that do. And it doesn’t carry rye flour – I have a feeling I might have to special order that. Or maybe find an organic store which carries it. They have all kinds of other grain flours, but not rye. And I do love my orange rye bread.
Spent much more than I planned there, but now we are well stocked. Between Big Y and Stop and Shop, both of which aren’t too far away (once you know how to get there), I think we’ll make it through the harsh winters here.
The CVS is next door to Big Y, so we’ll be able to get my mom’s prescriptions set up there. We both still have to find new doctors, change our voter registration (the Town Clerk, which the State told me handles it, has not responded), and change our drivers’ licenses/car registration.
On the way back from the grocery store, swung by the post office to mail letters and bills.
Got everything up the stairs and put away. The humidity was pretty intense by then, and I ran out of steam. It was too hot and humid in the afternoon to try to find the lake, unless we wanted to go IN it, which we don’t. I wish I’d stop feeling so awful all the time. The fatigue and muscle pain should be easing up by now; if anything, it’s getting worse.
I’m enjoying QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD. I like the way the story is unfolding, at least so far. I’m reading it slowly, savoring it.
Pizza for dinner. Thunderstorms, lightning, and rain at night. Since there are rivers everywhere (where the mills were perched, mills that are now museums and artist lofts and studios), I worry about flooding, like we had back in Westchester. Lee and Lenox were hit badly by the storms over the last weekend, but around here, it wasn’t too bad.
I’m glad I didn’t go to Lenox for WordXWord last night. I would have been miserable driving back in the storm. I’m not yet confidant driving in the mountains.
The fire alarm went off a little after 10 PM, for no discernable reason. We weren’t cooking or anything. It does that, at least once a week. Not sure what’s going on there.
Today is more writing, more LOIs, script coverage, work on the class, prepping and sending out some plays. Remote Chat is this afternoon, so that should be fun.
I have to get back to work updating my brochure, so I can send LOIs to local businesses. And I need to get back on track with the revisions and re-releases of the Topic Workbooks. I managed to update the main Devon Ellington website a couple of days back; I need to cycle through the other sites and make sure they are updated, too.
I should unpack some more, too. There are still too many boxes everywhere.
Yesterday wound up being a fairly pretty day, although hot. I got some work done in the early morning, and participated in the online meditation group, which was good.
Went to the library to drop off/pick up, stopped at the liquor store. People aren’t in a hurry here, and like to stop and talk, but they do go about their lives without fussing too much. At least so far.
We drove to Pittsfield to pick up a few things at Home Goods, and nipped into the Stop & Shop next door, before heading back.
Got some script coverage done.
Read a book by an author about whose work I have mixed feelings. The writing is beautiful. I loathed the characters, all of them. I thought they were all awful people, and couldn’t believe I spent any time with them. But I couldn’t stop reading.
Participated in one of Creative Capital’s conversations about how the pandemic was a catalyst for using different types of mediums to create. I was only familiar with one of the three participating artists before the session, and am now interested in the work of all of them. They all had commissions and got a lot done during the pandemic, the thought of which just made me tired. I was so unproductive. And the pandemic’s not over yet. But I have to remind myself that I was also sick during that time. I still haven’t processed the surgeries and that whole element/experience yet. One artist focused on the change with her relationship with the audience; another was excited by the new types of collaborations in which she participated; the third talked about the dialogue with the work, and the best format for the work, instead of just trying to make it fit a medium, which really resonated with me.
All three of these artists create and perform their own work, which has been more and more the norm during the pandemic. As someone who does not want to perform my own work, who writes for others to perform, I sometimes wonder if I’m a dinosaur, and if there’s any room for me anymore.
Slept well, although it was uncomfortably hot and sticky. Slept in a bit, wrote in the journal out on the porch in the morning, did my yoga/meditation practice.
And wrote some fiction. Not a lot, not even 1K (a little under). But I played with an idea that’s been tickling for the past few days. It’s both something I want to do, and something focused toward a specific market. Those don’t have to be mutually exclusive.
It felt both weird and good to get back to that type of writing. We will see what happens.
I have a script coverage to write up today, and another to read and then write up, so that I have the weekend free to unpack. It’s supposed to storm again all weekend, so maybe I’ll take a walk around the college at some point today, while it’s still sunny out.
One of these days, I’ll get over to the lake and walk around. It’s supposed to be beautiful.
MassMOCA has a community day tomorrow, where people who live here get in free all day. Part of me wants to go, and part of me doesn’t want to be around that many people yet, even if I’m masked.
image courtesy of Sophie Ilvarinen via pixabay.com
Wednesday, July 7, 2021
Waning Moon
Pluto, Saturn, Jupiter, Neptune Retrograde
Cloudy and humid
I am home.
Aren’t those beautiful words?
I spent the holiday weekend on Cape, finishing the clearing out. Most of what was left over ended up in the dumpster, although I salvaged a enough for 7 carloads that went into storage over the various days.
My lovely neighbors down the street helped me pack the dumpster on Saturday and Sunday. They’re very efficient, dumpster geniuses, and we got it all in. Monday, once I finished the storage runs, was about cleaning.
The cleaning took a lot. The basement, where boxes had gotten damp and stained the walls, needed the most work, but I used a bleach mixture and it’s better. It still needs repainting, but hey, it’s been ten years.
As I cleaned, an alarmed face showed up in the streaks. I should have taken a photo of it. It wasn’t exactly Taco Jesus, but it was interesting. (“Taco Jesus” was the name of a play I stage managed way back in the 80’s at the One Act Theatre Company of San Francisco, with Michael McShane in the lead).
There’s still a lot of processing to do, and I will do that, and decide what I’m comfortable publicly sharing. Lots of emotion involved in all of that. But it was easier to do without my mom underfoot and every toss out becoming an argument.
I was also frustrated cleaning, because I’d clean something, and 5 minutes later it looked worse. I had to clean all the baseboards again in the house. I’d cleaned them the day the movers cleared out the furniture. Here it was, less than two weeks later, in an empty house, and they were filthy again. I don’t get it.
I scrubbed and cleaned all day. Of course, the landlord called me at 5 to see how I was doing. I was ready to go just after 6. The key exchange was nice enough, although, even though he’s keeping the security deposit, he wanted to charge extra for these five days of clearing out. No, honey, that’s what the security deposit is for. Plus, I could have just walked away and left him to deal with it; according to MA state law, he couldn’t just toss everything. He would have had to photograph and inventory everything and store it for 60 days until I claimed it. But I did not do that. I came and dealt with it myself. He gave me the water bill – although he’s paying a portion of it, for the water used for the lawn. Again, that could come out of the security deposit. He’s making noise about charging me above the security deposit, if he finds things cost more.
No. The place needs painting. It hasn’t been painted in 10 years. Most of the paint has held up very well. There’s a little wear and tear, and some damage where I removed the Pennsylvania Dutch Hex Signs we fastened on the walls when we moved in – damage because the hardware store guy sold me an adhesive he promised wouldn’t damage the walls, but, like everything else he told me, that was wrong. Aside from the staining and some dry wall shrinkage in the basement, and the ding in the wall at the bottom of the stairs caused by the movers, the place is not in bad shape. It needs paint, and it needs a professional scrub. The central vac didn’t have any suction – mostly because the landlord never ordered the special bags it needs (it’s original to the house) and never told me where I could get them. Our vacuum went on the moving truck, so I was using a broom and dustpan, and also using my little hand vac. I Rug Doctored the heck out of the carpets.
What it really needs are bathroom renovations and new windows, but we know that’s not happening coming from them, and I’m not paying for that.
There were plenty of things in the ten years we lived there that the landlord “never got around to.” I’m not paying for those.
Let him jump on the Short Term Rental Greed Train. He’ll find out it’s not as easy as having a year round tenant. When holiday renters are paying top dollar for a property, they don’t want something that’s original to the house just because it’s Cape Cod – especially since this house is 5 miles from the beach. They want better stuff than they have at home. He can blame me all he wants for not being able to rent out the place by July 4th weekend. But even if we’d gotten out at the end of April, the place wouldn’t be ready.
I was happy to drive out of there without looking back. It was about 6:30 by the time I finally got out of there.
I was practically numb with exhaustion trying to get over the Sagamore Bridge. I’d only had an egg for breakfast and some watermelon for lunch. It took 40 minutes to get over the bridge, and, according to the radio, it kept backing up.
There was another backup around Middleboro, but then it wasn’t too bad.
I managed to get to Sturbridge by 9-ish, to my favorite inn, The Publick House. I stumbled in, begging for a room in the lodge, the section that has all the goofy toile wallpaper and the little balconies.
The lodge was sold out to a special group.
I was ready to cry. I was too tired to go any farther.
But, I’m a regular guest there, sort of. I’m in their system. So they offered me a room in Tillyear House, at a big discount, which only made it about $20 more than staying in the lodge.
I said yes.
It was a lovely room. Enormous, with two queen beds with soft mattress toppers, a huge bathroom with a tiled shower, a reading/writing area, and giant TV.
First thing I did was take a shower, slather on their wonderful bath products, and feel like a human being again.
Of course, I had no real food. I had leftover chips and cookies, and the remnants of the wine I’d bought to wind down in the evenings when I camped in the empty house. So I had chips and wine, and watched Food Network and HGTV for an hour or so, until I was tired enough to fall asleep.
I slept. I woke up around 5, the latest I’ve slept in months. I lounged in bed until about 6:30, then got dressed. I’m so sick of cargo pants I can’t stand them anymore (they made the most sense during the move). Fortunately, I’d thrown some other clothes into my bag, so I put those on. I’d thrown one of my Ipsy bags in my purse, so I even had a little makeup, so I didn’t look like death warmed over.
Hopped next door to the bakery to get my complimentary breakfast of coffee, blueberry muffins, coffeecake squares. Took it back to my room, ate, wrote in my journal. Enjoyed having finished the house.
I was tired enough to want to go back to bed, but I got my act together and was back on the road by 9. The woman at the desk and I had a lovely talk, and she encouraged me to come back for my birthday weekend in March. If the weather’s not bad, I just might book myself in there for a weekend of reading, writing, and spa time, in Tillyear house. Much as I love the funky little lodge, it was nice to indulge in one of the fancier rooms.
Traffic wasn’t too bad, although once I left the Pike at Lee, the last hour to home took a little longer because there was more traffic than at 7 AM when I usually breezed through. But I got home around 11:30. Mom and cats happy to see me.
It took awhile to unload the car, because it was full of weird bits and pieces from the clearing out. I took breaks in between, due to the humidity. But I got it all done. Then I fell asleep on the couch for a few hours.
Got up, made dinner, and went to bed early.
The cats woke me a little before 5 this morning, demanding breakfast. Tessa marched out of her bastion near the front porch, all the way down the long hall to the kitchen, demanding to speak to the manager, because breakfast was late, and That Will Not Do.
A client contacted me yesterday about a possible steady writing gig. I was too incoherent to respond, but I will do so today, and we’ll see if that works out. I will start up again with the script coverage work today, and also let my book review editor know I’m ready for the next book.
There’s a lot of unpacking to do; we will do so slowly, and figure out where we want things. Shift and re-shift things around a bit. We need to do a good grocery shop.
Hopefully, I can re-read some of my own writing later in the day; I want to get back to my first 1K of the day early on in the next few days.
I need to ease in, instead of jump in, due to exhaustion. I have to prioritize the paying work, because I’ve lost three weeks’ of work due to the move and clearing out. Bills are already starting to come in, and I want to make sure everything is paid on time.
I have to process the emotions of the move, and of the friction between the life I thought I wanted on Cape Cod and the reality of life on Cape Cod. That will take time. I have to create new, sustainable routines for life here, and explore my new area.
While I need to work steadily to earn a living, I also want a balance. I need rest, and I want to enjoy my life. I am going to be much more cautious about getting involved with any local groups or organizations here – it will take me some time to recover from the burnout from the organizations on Cape Cod. I don’t care about being a good sport or fitting in anymore – I’m going to figure out how to craft the life I want, and people can either accept those boundaries or fuck right off.
I’m beyond tired, but I’m also relieved that the move is done, and I’m looking forward to building a positive next act here in the Berkshires.
Thank you so much to all of you who cheerleaded (cheerled?) and contributed to the GoFundMe, and, in general, supported me through a difficult time. I am filled with gratitude.
I’m in a rocky period, and that’s the way it’s going to be for this next stretch. I have to figure out how to navigate it without killing myself.
Friday was a mix of frustrations. I managed to get some client work done really, really early to hand it off to the person who needed it, getting in early rather than waiting until this week. And then THAT person went and took credit for the work I’d done both Thursday and Friday. So there’s some clarification that needs to happen next week.
Friday was a bit of a fractured workday, although I managed to do a curbside pickup at the library. I’m stressed with most of my cookbooks packed, so I ordered more cookbooks from the library as a soothing agent.
Got a stack of LOIs out. Prepped for a late afternoon meeting. It was a video call, so that meant choosing the wardrobe, doing the makeup, fixing the lighting, checking to make sure the background wasn’t full of boxes.
I woke up on Saturday morning, filled to the brim with stress and rage.
I worked hard to let go of it – it was a gorgeous day outside. I did an early morning grocery run, got the laundry and the housework done, worked on the paperwork for the contest (I finished the third category), and then decided to give myself a day off. I’m completely cooked, and I am making myself ill. I read a book, I played with the cats, I sat outside on the deck and enjoyed myself.
It was Beltane, and I did a ritual. Let’s hope things are moving in the right direction.
The Kentucky Derby was in the evening. I was disgusted to see how many flouted the masking protocols and ignored social distancing. They should have all been removed.
King Fury was scratched, so he wasn’t part of my picks, poor baby. I didn’t actually bet this year, even online. With the move coming up, betting is an unnecessary expense, and, frankly, I didn’t put in enough work to make it worthwhile. Plus, it’s not the Derby where one makes money; it’s the undercard, and I certainly didn’t put in the work to bet on that.
I stuck with my choices of Midnight Bourbon as my first choice, then Essential Quality, Hot Rod Charlie, and Soup and Sandwich as my long shot. Had I bet, I would have put the first three across the board and Soup and Sandwich to Show.
The winner was Medina Spirit, who ran a beautiful, wire to wire race. Mandaloun came in second, very close, with Hot Rod Charlie third and Essential Quality fourth. Midnight Bourbon was sixth – I don’t know what was wrong with him today, he just didn’t show up. Soup and Sandwich has a good start, but faded to finish last, poor thing.
So I’m glad I didn’t bet! I would have only won a few bucks on Hot Rod Charlie.
I had good early morning writing sessions Saturday and Sunday. Sticking to writing first thing in the morning helps keep the rest of the day grounded. I’m going to work hard not to self-sabotage on that front.
Finished the decisions on the winners and the finalists for the contest on Saturday and sent them off. On Sunday, I received invoicing instructions, sent off the invoice first thing Monday and was paid immediately.
Sunday, I also read a book for review, sent off the review and the invoice from the last batch. Again, first thing Monday, I was paid. That’s how it should be!
Found some interesting listings for rentals on Sunday, and sent off a few emails. Heard back yesterday morning from the one I really, really liked, so I’m hoping we can set up a time for me to head up there to see it, although it’s a bit of a hike.
Got a little bit of packing done, but not enough. If we knew where we were going, it would be easier.
photo by Devon Ellington
Monday morning, we were up early to eat, do the dishes, clean the litter boxes, etc., before the septic people arrived. They were here on time, and very, very nice. And efficient.
I managed to get some LOIs out before I headed to the client’s. Unfortunately, the water needed to be turned off at the house while I was gone, and the landlord came in to do it. I was embarrassed that he came in among the moving chaos. I’ve got things spread out and boxes everywhere and it’s a mess.
My client figured out that I’m having a moving situation going on, and immediately started giving me advice – that serves her, not me. This is one reason I didn’t want to discuss it with her until I had more tangibles. It’s going to be a nightmare for the next few weeks until things get sorted out, with her trying to “fix” things so it suits her, and not what we need. I should have just lied, but I didn’t.
Got an interview request from another LOI. At first, I set it up for later this week, but then I moved it to this afternoon – another end of day interview, which I’m not thrilled about, but if we’re going to look at rentals toward the end of the week, before my vaccine on Saturday, I needed it to happen sooner rather than later.
Turned around a script coverage piece. If this company likes me, they might throw me some more work here and there. I loved the piece I read; if that’s an indication of the quality they get in, it will be a joyful job. But what I have to say might not be what they want to hear. Still, I had to give notes that I felt best fit the piece.
The backyard is quite in tumult. The septic guys will be back today, and maybe finish by Thursday. Che Guevara Chipmunk sat on the deck steps in the late afternoon, looking absolutely devasted (although his actual home, in the bushes, is fine). I felt awful for upsetting the chipmunk.
Absolutely shattered by the end of the day. Fish and chips were as fancy as I could manage.
We watched some more of WILLIAM AND MARY, which is so well-written. Martin Clunes and Julie Graham are wonderful, and the supporting cast is great, too.
The June issue of THE WRITER arrived on Saturday, with my article in it on “Food Sensuality in Fiction.” I scanned the pages (although I had computer issues – my curser and trackpad aren’t always working properly and letting me use the keyboard). But I got it scanned, and I sent the PDFs out to the authors who were included. They were all really pleased with the way the article came out, and I’m so grateful to them for their quotes.
I love writing pieces like this, and I hope I get to do more.
Decent, but not brilliant first writing sessions yesterday and today. Today, I’ve got some remote client work, an article to finish, a short story to work on, and a book to turn around fast for review. My editor’s been so great since I started working for the publication; no one wanted to read/review this book, and it needs to be done quickly, so I said sure. It’s definitely got some challenges. But I want to be fair and give it a helpful, not a harmful review, while still being honest.
CAPE COD TIMES ran an article about how Cape Cod businesses can’t find enough workers for summer tourism season. Hmm, let’s see, people are refusing to work in dangerous conditions for crap wages? Good. Of course, the paper frames it as “lazy people making more on unemployment.” Hey, assholes, if they’re making more on unemployment, the job was crap anyway. They did point out that there aren’t enough of the visa workers who come in from other countries for the summer season. Again, these are people who work for subpar wages. They compete for housing with people who live here year-round. And the article barely touched on the fact that the lack of housing is a crisis. The ratio of actual pay to the cost of housing is completely out of whack. As usual, it was right-leaning whining, instead of actual journalism. Typical of this area.
It rained overnight, so the backyard is now a mud bath.
I had a decent first writing session in the morning, although it wasn’t the full 1K. But it was still more words than I started with, so all good.
Got out a stack of LOIs.
Headed in to the client’s. The client demands I’m back in the office for the hours she pays for, starting next week. Even though we’re not all vaccinated, and we’re not supposed to be at full capacity for the office. I can’t afford to quit just yet, so I have to put myself into even more danger until I’m vaccinated.
Heard from the landlord. The septic replacement will be next week, but the water only needs to be shut off on Monday for about 4 hours. So we’ll coordinate that, before I head to the office, and I’ll be back by the time they need it turned back on.
They might have to take up part of the deck to do it, which means we won’t be able to sit out there after this weekend until we actually move. Which kind of breaks my heart.
But then, the last few months have been all about how much my heart can break, haven’t they?
Haven’t heard back from the property manager as to whether or not we have a phone appointment today, haven’t received any paperwork, haven’t gotten a confirmation as to whether we can go up to see the place on Saturday. I’m getting frustrated. The place is smaller than this, near the top of our budget, no washer/dryer (only hookups), and I’d have to pay extra for garage space, but she hasn’t told me how much.
Honestly, I don’t know if it’s worth it, but we don’t have a lot of options.
Had a terrific exchange back and forth throughout the day with a potential new client on what would be a really interesting job. He wanted to look at a wide variety of samples, which I sent. I hope what I do matches what he’s looking for, because it would be so interesting.
Heard back from another LOI – another demand for unpaid, project-specific work samples as part of the interview process. I’m sending them my test/sample contract this morning, and will either get another snarky response or never hear back.
I was completely wiped out last night, and went to bed early.
I have meditation this morning, then client work, then finish up an article, work on a short story, work on contest entries, pack, and continue to house hunt.
I had a good writing session first thing this morning, and realized that, while this book is a stand-alone, a couple of supporting characters deserve their own books (also stand-alones). I made some notes. That knowledge will allow me to strengthen certain things in this book, while not going out too far on tangents, because I know those characters will be able to tell their own stories.
Today is a rough day. It is the second of the hoped-for moving dates I’d wanted when we were deep in this process. To say I feel like a complete failure on personal and professional levels because this isn’t our moving day is an understatement.
Yesterday was rough, too. The recruiter who’d claimed to want the morning appointment blew me off. No contact, no response when I followed up. Just skipped the appointment. Not a surprise, but any time I see that “staffing agency” listed, I know to avoid it.
The property manager who had the afternoon phone appointment didn’t call, either, although I did get an apology email in the evening, and we’re going to try to set up something for tomorrow. I’m hoping we can go up and take a look at it over the weekend.
I thought I’d found another, really cute house in Nashua for rent. At first it didn’t come up in any realtor searches, but digging a bit deeper, it did –yup, another scam. So I reported it.
In the afternoon, I heard back from one of the LOIs stating they wanted to “get to know me better” and sent me a link – to write an unpaid, 250-word piece.
I responded with a cordial email and the contract/rates for that.
I got an almost immediate snarky email back from the entitled white boy who runs the company, stating that they paid for test pieces further in the process, but a 250-word piece about something I knew about “shouldn’t take much time.”
Talk about a red flag right there. How would he know how much time something took? Short pieces need a great deal of care, to make sure that every word carries more than its weight.
I shot back, again, politely but firmly, that a good 250-word piece, even on a topic well within my wheelhouse, takes time, skill, and care, and deserves compensation. Our work styles are obviously incompatible.
Entitled white boy mansplaining his attempt to get free labor. No, thank you. So sick of it.
Because of the two meetings (which ended up not happening), I couldn’t deep dive into any project. It was a frustrating day.
I did get out a bunch of LOIs, including to a really cool project that would be long-term, steady, and in one of my favorite arenas.
I did some research into the KY Derby for Saturday.
Got some reading done. I’m close to the end of the third category of entries (although I still have a lot of paperwork to enter). I hope to have my decision by either Friday or Saturday. I’m reading a magical realism book that I waver between liking because it’s clever and getting frustrated with for jumping around too much.
Made Chicken Chow Mein for dinner – that’s turning into a major comfort food for me.
Knowledge Unicorns was fine. Everyone’s ready for the school year to be over.
The mask mandate is being lifted for being in outdoor spaces as of Friday. Which means the Covidiots will be even dumber inside.
We watched some DOC MARTIN, and I went to bed early. Of course, that meant I work up a little after 2 AM, fretting, and couldn’t go back to sleep.
I made myself write this morning, at least a few pages. I was tempted to punish myself and not do it, but I needed to, and it helped. I still have two pieces that I need to finish this week.
Living at this level of stress and uncertainty is unsustainable. But I just don’t know what to do. I’m at the end of my rope.
Today, I have a stressful day onsite with a client, but at least there’s Remote Chat to which to look forward.
The Retrogrades are starting, which worries me. I’d hoped to get the house hunting resolved before that happened, but no luck.
I had a good, solid writing weekend, which was necessary. I wrote an entire chapter on Sunday morning.
It took me all morning on Friday to complete the paperwork for the second category of the contest, but I did it and sent it off. I made good progress on the final category (I’d already completed about half the entries for this one, too). So I’m on track with that.
Saturday, I was up early, wrote, did laundry and housework. I’ve been craving fast food like crazy the past few weeks. I haven’t eaten beef for months, because it always made me sick. I haven’t ordered/eaten fast food in about two years. But I decided to go up to Burger King, which is about three miles from here, just off the Rt. 6 exit, and hit the drive through. I haven’t eaten from Burger King in at least 3-4 years, maybe longer. I ate at McDonald’s about two years ago, and was as sick as could be after.
But I risked it anyway. I had a Whopper, my mom had a bacon cheeseburger, we split an order of onion rings and an order of French fries, and had chocolate shakes.
I haven’t drunk cow’s milk in nearly a year, either, because it was making me sick.
Basically, I craved things that were bad for me, and I decided to take the risk.
Did the drive-through window – and realized that, in the 10 years we’ve lived here, it was the first time I’d done that. And yes, of course I wore my mask at the window, and the workers were all masked, too.
Got everything home, and we ate. And ate. It was good, hit the spot, filled the craving.
I didn’t feel as bad as I expected after, although I felt full and heavy. Everything was much saltier than when I cook, so I was thirsty as all get out, and drank a lot of tea and juice all afternoon.
Neither of us was hungry by dinner time, so we didn’t eat.
It was pretty nice outside, albeit a bit windy, so we took Willa and Charlotte out in their playpens. However, because that idiot a few streets over continues to run the woodchipper and chain saws all day every day from 7 AM to 9 PM, it was impossible to actually enjoy sitting outside. Or get much done inside, that required concentration. If you need to run a woodchipper that much, you’re either a serial killer or incompetent, and it shouldn’t be allowed.
I didn’t feel great at night, but at least I got some sleep. I felt okay Sunday morning, although it will probably be a few years before I do that again.
Baked biscuits for Sunday morning breakfast. It was rainy and raw.
I got some paperwork done, got out a few information requests on rentals, got out some LOIs. Got some writing done.
I felt pretty discouraged, all the way around.
Spent most of the day on contest entries.
Monday morning, I was up early and wrote, in spite of feeling resistance to it. Once I started, it was fine.
My mother had terrible nightmares. I realized she’d packed her dreamcatcher over the bed; I unpacked another one, hung it up, and she slept well last night.
I headed onsite to the client’s extra early, since the landlord said he and the septic people would be over to go over the plan for the replacement, which starts next week. I got everything done that needed to be done onsite in a jiffy, dropped things off at the post office, got back to the house – and they never showed up and never contacted me. Frustrating.
Got some more packing done, although I’m behind where I wanted to be at this point. I need to pack faster, purge more, and get stuff up on craigslist this week.
But I did the rest of the work I needed to do for the client remotely, so it worked out. I got out a stack of LOIs. I heard back from a couple of rentals – two very nice, one in particular is a house that might work, although it’s small. The other is bigger, but means moving back to NY State, just outside of Syracuse, to a town that has a rather high crime rate. The cost of the move itself might put it out of reach, although the space is terrific, with a garage and a deck. There was one rental, though, for a loft – they want copies of birth certificates for every member of the household. How is that even legal?
I complained to the AG’s office, and I’m having a conversation with my state senator about it. That is wrong. It also opens the door to identity theft. A landlord does not have the right to birth certificates. That opens the door to all kinds of discrimination and identity theft.
A recruiter wanted to talk to me about an LOI I’d sent. But the “application” demanded dates of high school and college graduation, which is a workaround on the age discrimination laws, so I called him out on it and refused. I got a very nice apology from him, and that he’s taken up the issue with IT to fix it, and asked to have a conversation anyway, so I agreed to have a short one this morning.
Will probably talk to the property manager for the small house this afternoon.
Put together a LOI package for a potential local client who used to work in theatre, and was email introduced by a mutual friend. So we’ll see if that’s something we can work out. I’m always leery of local clients, because they never want to pay, but she’s a washashore and from professional theatre, and understands that work is paid.
Decent first writing session this morning, although it was hard to get started. Will do some client work, get out some more LOIs, have the talk with the recruiter. I expect it will be a waste of time. I haven’t spoken to a single recruiter in the past ten years that wasn’t a complete and utter waste of my time and energy. My experience is that they don’t actually give a damn about any potential employees. They just want names on their sheet to meet quotas. However, this guy responded and claimed he was dealing with a problem, so I feel like I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
The retrogrades have me even more on edge than I already was. I’m ready to fall off the edge.
Deep breath. Keep going. Because there’s no other choice.
By the way, my first choice for the Kentucky Derby this weekend is Midnight Bourbon. I love him. I love his personality. I still have to do some more research on the rest of the field. I think all the horses are more relaxed and have progressed better without fans in the stands.
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GWEN FINNEGAN MYSTERIES
Archaeologist Dr. Gwen Finnegan is on the hunt for her lover’s killer. Shy historical researcher Justin Yates, frustrated with his failing relationship, jumps at the chance to join her on a real adventure through Europe, pursued by factions including Gwen’s ex-lover and nemesis, Karl, as they try to unspool fact from fiction in a multi-generational obsession with a statue of the goddess Medusa.
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Stuck in NYC when plans for their next expedition fall through, Gwen and Justin accept teaching jobs at different local universities. Adjusting to their day-to-day relationship, and juggling the academic and emotional demands of their students, they are embroiled in two different, disturbing, paranormal situations that have more than one unusual crossing point. Can they work together to find the answers? Or are new temptations too much to resist? For whom are they willing to put their lives on the line? Available on multiple digital channels here.NAUTICAL NAMASTE MYSTERIESSAVASANA AT SEA
Yoga instructor Sophie Batchelder jumps at the chance to teach on a cruise ship when she loses her job and her boyfriend dumps her in the same day. But when her boss is murdered, and the crew thinks she's taking over her predecessor's blackmail scheme, Sophie must figure out who the real killer is -- before he turns her into a corpse, too. A Not-Quite-Cozy Mystery.
Buy Links here.COVENTINA CIRCLE ROMANTIC SUSPENSEPLAYING THE ANGLES
Witchcraft, politics, and theatre collide as Morag D’Anneville and Secret Service agent Simon Keane fight to protect the Vice President of the United States -- or is it Morag who needs Simon’s protection more than the VP?
Buy links here.THE SPIRIT REPOSITORY
Bonnie Chencko knows books change lives. But she never expected her life to change because she happened to duck into a small bookshop in Greenwich Village on a rainy late November night. She’s attracted to Rufus Van Dijk, the mysterious man who owns the bookshop in his ancestors’ building. A building filled with family ghosts, who are mysteriously disappearing. It’s up to Bonnie and her burgeoning Craft powers to rescue the spirits before their souls are lost forever. Buy Links here. RELICS & REQUIEM
Amanda Breck’s complicated life gets more convoluted when she finds the body of Lena Morgan in Central Park, identical to Amanda’s dream. Detective Phineas Regan is one case away from retirement; the last thing he needs is a murder case tinged by the occult. The seeds of their attraction were planted months ago, when Phineas investigated an attack on Amanda’s friend Morag. Now, fate is determined to draw them close. But can they work together to stop a wily, vicious killer, or will the murderer destroy them both?
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Full Circle: An Ars Concordia Anthology. Edited by Colin Galbraith. My story is “Pauvre Bob”, set at Arlington Race Track in Illinois is included in this wonderful collection of short stories and poetry. You can download it free here.
Archaeologist Dr. Gwen Finnegan is on the hunt for her lover’s killer. Shy historical researcher Justin Yates, frustrated with his failing relationship, jumps at the chance to join her on a real adventure through Europe, pursued by factions including Gwen’s ex-lover and nemesis, Karl, as they try to unspool fact from fiction in a multi-generational obsession with a statue of the goddess Medusa.
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Stuck in NYC when plans for their next expedition fall through, Gwen and Justin accept teaching jobs at different local universities. Adjusting to their day-to-day relationship, and juggling the academic and emotional demands of their students, they are embroiled in two different, disturbing, paranormal situations that have more than one unusual crossing point. Can they work together to find the answers? Or are new temptations too much to resist? For whom are they willing to put their lives on the line? Available on multiple digital channels 
SAVASANA AT SEA
Yoga instructor Sophie Batchelder jumps at the chance to teach on a cruise ship when she loses her job and her boyfriend dumps her in the same day. But when her boss is murdered, and the crew thinks she's taking over her predecessor's blackmail scheme, Sophie must figure out who the real killer is -- before he turns her into a corpse, too. A Not-Quite-Cozy Mystery.
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PLAYING THE ANGLES
Witchcraft, politics, and theatre collide as Morag D’Anneville and Secret Service agent Simon Keane fight to protect the Vice President of the United States -- or is it Morag who needs Simon’s protection more than the VP?
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THE SPIRIT REPOSITORY
Bonnie Chencko knows books change lives. But she never expected her life to change because she happened to duck into a small bookshop in Greenwich Village on a rainy late November night. She’s attracted to Rufus Van Dijk, the mysterious man who owns the bookshop in his ancestors’ building. A building filled with family ghosts, who are mysteriously disappearing. It’s up to Bonnie and her burgeoning Craft powers to rescue the spirits before their souls are lost forever. Buy Links 
RELICS & REQUIEM
Amanda Breck’s complicated life gets more convoluted when she finds the body of Lena Morgan in Central Park, identical to Amanda’s dream. Detective Phineas Regan is one case away from retirement; the last thing he needs is a murder case tinged by the occult. The seeds of their attraction were planted months ago, when Phineas investigated an attack on Amanda’s friend Morag. Now, fate is determined to draw them close. But can they work together to stop a wily, vicious killer, or will the murderer destroy them both?
Buy link 
By Jenny Storm. A young girl fights to save her horse trainer father's reputation when vicious rumors could ruin their lives. Purchase from 