Today I am 72. Somehow I never thought I'd live this long, or maybe I just never thought I'd get old. But here I am, and I'm glad of it.
On my walk this morning I saw a squirrel standing on the ground with its back to a tree. Suddenly it leapt into the air, did a back flip, and landed on the side of the tree trunk looking down at the ground.
#WordWeavers Nov 11 What emotions did your character experience in the last scene you wrote?
Frustration, sadness, shame, humiliation. Cordwainer is certain that he has failed utterly and there is nothing he can do to succeed in discovering who the killer is. And he knows he must hand his investigation over to someone who can succeed where he has failed.
Sitting with my foot up. I spent most of the morning on the phone trying to find a podiatrist that I could get an appointment with. Nothing major, but very painful: nasty-looking ingrown toenail that I think is infected. No walking for me until this is seen to. Luckily, there's a doc with a cancellation tomorrow morning at 8:45. #Today
I've vacillated between sorrow and rage ever since I got up and heard the news. Going out and walking helped. Nature is still beautiful.
Be kind to yourselves today and going forward. Be kind to others. We need to reach out to each other, to our friends, to rely on our friendships and our kindness to carry us through what lies ahead.
This is circulating, I think it will need to last longer than Wednesday:
Friendly reminder that from now until Wednesday, we are living in the metaphorical equivalent of an airport lounge. Calories don't count. Money doesn't matter. No one will judge you for having a beer at 10am.
Every day I get up and tell myself I'm too tired to walk, I hurt too much, I'll stay home today. And pretty much every morning I go on out and walk. I'm always happy I did, especially when the world outside is as beautiful as it was today.
So now it's another day of writing and chores and reading. Life is good. #Today
I research only when I know I need to, often for settings that are out of the ordinary. My current WIP is set during a large market and fair, so I researched when such markets happened in medieval York, where in the city they were held, and what they were like.
As for planning, I write mysteries, so I start with the crime, the perpetrator, and the other suspects and write the mystery from there.
I just left a phone message with my Democratic Senator, urging him to stand behind Kamala Harris for president and to oppose any effort to choose a different candidate. Please, Dem folks, do the same.
All my friends here who write SFF, you know about the Speculative Literature Foundation grants, don't you? Right now, they are accepting proposals for "diverse writers" and "diverse worlds" grants of $500 each, but there are also grants for older writers and working class writers, and a travel grant.
Writer's block today is literal. There is a cat standing in front of the computer monitor, blocking me from seeing what I am doing. Her body is blocking the keyboard. If I move her, she returns in a few minutes. If I put her out of the room, she cries at the door. Sigh. #WritingProblems
My next door neighbor just drove up with his car full of shopping bags from the mall. It's really true that men don't shop until the last minute, isn't it? #Today
To get the 70% rate you must only sell your books on Amazon. If you list them for sale somewhere else, the rate is 35%. My royalty rate has not changed, and I wonder if the authors who have seen changes are selling their books on another site (or Amazon thinks they are).
Retired professor of Medieval Literature; author of The Homiletic Writings of Archbishop Wulfstan (Boydell & Brewer), The Medieval Dragon (Hisarlik), editor of Old English Literature in its Manuscript Context (U of West Virginia P), author of the Matthew Cordwainer and Gavin Rownt medieval mysteries.Avatar is a photo of a woman (me) in her 70s. Deep pouches under her eyes and short hair that miraculously never turned gray. Header is a photo of a manuscript of Wulfstan's Sermo Lupi ad Anglos.