churning the scrap basket

 

conversations

Going forward, posts like this about the writing life will go to Cooking the Hook. 

Art and fiber-related posts will stay here, but damn, I can crossover on a whim. Nice being a landlord.

  It was much too early for that kind of conversation. Let's just call that a fever dream. I had my booster Monday and ran a little hot that night. 

Here's a sweeter conversation. A dear friend called out of the blue. We've known each other forever. Two human beings could not be more at odds, but the core of our relationship was our good fortune of having had decades-long marriages to good men. 

Time and distance did their thing but Barb and I still had the biannual hour-long catch-up calls. This time she shocked me. My dear girl has always been straight as an arrow and charmingly old-fashioned. How we meshed remains a mystery. She called to tell me that she's bought my books, read them and loved them and when was the next one coming out.  

I guess I had better pick up the pace.

Extravagance

 

Let a fine day begin with long-awaited new shoes arriving just in time. AND, miracle of miracles, they fit and do not offend my fashion insensibilities. In the past month, I have bought four pairs of shoes online and sent all of them back. Shopping in person is even harder when you wear 10W.  

The crown and heart of this day was a surprise ice cream social for my co-pirate and his bestie since pre-K.

We scarfed up the ice cream, wished we had brought sweaters, and just watched these two spiral around each other. She will be moving away in a few weeks, but for now, the joy overcomes the sorrow of the days ahead. I think they will keep in touch.

I bought myself a traditional derelict bouquet from the nearly dead bin and cooked for myself something that was not whatever slammed between two slices of bread.  

 

You can see my hairy friend waiting for me to look away so she could lick the plate.

I wish there had been wine. Still, I corrected my chemistry, put on some music, and stalked the internet boyfriend for a while.

All of this in an effort to NOT keep checking on the stats of my first ever advertising promotion for the book. This screengrab for book one of the trilogy was the peak. Color me thrilled.

Voices in my head.

 

"What do you remember? Don't close your eyes." He touched her forehead. "Look at me. What were you feeling?"

"Fury."

Characters in conversation can take the story to places I never anticipate.

I've been reading a book about the importance of outlining (in a very specific way) and I just can't feature doing it.

Free is good

 It's back to work Monday. All kinds of work. Here's some fun stuff. 

All this week, the Kindle version of Out of Step, book one of the Prophets Tango trilogy is FREE !! 

I feel a little like a crack dealer though, 'cause I promise you'll be back for the other two to complete the story.  Go here for that free taste.   

Turns out that little snip of conversation that I started the other day is going to be in book 4. 

I love it when they let me eavesdrop.