Stuff I Don't Write

That's Moochy Sheep there, a permanent fixture on DH's desk since Easter, and she wears his glasses when he isn't. She's looking particularly intellectual here, and yes, that is Dr Who in the frame behind her.

Why Dr Who? Am I a fan? Nope. DH is. Said frame contains a "Perfect 10" collage I made for him a couple of holidays back. The reason the doctor is making an appearance today is that yesterday, I unearthed an old story originally serialized in the dearly missed First Light years ago.

Before I found my home in historical romance (where, truth be told, I knew it would be all along, ) I dabbled in other formats but nothing else ever felt right. This does mean there are a lot of will-n0t-be-finished things lying about, and that's a good thing. I needed all of those baby steps to get to where I am, where I do believe I've hit my stride.

"The Confessions of Catherine Braizel" is more than anything else, a character study. Cath is a soldier at some unspecified time and place in the future, currently working as a customs inspector at an offworld station after being pulled off the front lines of war following an incident she relates to the company mental health official in a series of stream of consciousness sessions.

I found the printout, forty-nine pages long, while looking for printouts of another old project (this one historical) and now the question of what to do with it remains. SF is absolutely not my genre, so this piece is an oddity. I like Cath, her forthrightness and the way she acknowledges and works through the rough parts of life, traits my historical and time travel heroines exhibit as well. As for the incident that got Cath pulled from the front, that might turn up in a future historical as well, though it would probably go to the hero....unless I have a heroine disguised as male and infiltrating the military that way.

For right now, my plate is beyond full, as in the 'curl into a fetal position under the desk for fifteen minutes, clutching a teddy bear and muttering something about deadlines, then put on big girl panties and go back to work' sort of way. New ideas and new/old ideas are going to have to wait. At the moment, I'm making sure that my people have successfully crossed plague-ravaged England, travelled through time from sixteenth century Scotland to modern NYC and back again, in addition to fleshing out a Georgian house party where a man with no self meets his match in an independently wealthy widow until the past catches up with them both.

All the while still looking for the notebooks that have my Edwardian heroine investigating the light in the library window of an abandoned house. Hopefully I have some of that printed out, but if not, there's more retyping in my future. If anybody needs me, I'll be under the desk. Oh, and could somebody be a dear and hand me Moochy? Teddy bear is on break.

All packed and I don't think I forgot anything or overpacked. Almost time to head out to the NECRWA conference, one of my favorite weekends of the year. Close to Christmas, which for those who know me, is a high compliment. For an extroverted writer, the only word to properly describe a writer's conference is "yeeeeeehaw!" (And I don't even write westerns. So far.)

Allow me to elaborate; take a people person, drop her in a sealed environment absolutely overflowing with others who share the same passion for the genre. Then give her a name badge (I have always had a thing for name badges since I was a wee mite) with a sticker and a ribbon in some cases (stickers and ribbons make everything better; try it) and hand her a bag with free office supplies, chocolate and possibly even a free book. See Christmas reference above. Then put a book on the plate at every meal, said meals attended by uniformed servers (I also have a thing for hotels) and top it all with the chance to hear big names in the industry share their experience with the happily captive audience. Plus workshops that make me want to clone myself so I didn't have to choose. Then there's the pitch sessions. I actually love pitch sessions. See extrovert mention above. I get to talk...about my stories...and am gauranteed eight minutes where that is the sole topic of conversation.

See? My natural habitat. Where do you go to commune with others of your kind?

Time for a new Moleskine.

What we have here is the notebook I've been carrying in my purse since January. No theme for the contents, more of a catchall for the brain droppings that occur during the day, and the cover design was a bit of fiddling while watching something mediocre on TV. If I had put more thought into it, "fleur" would be centered over the fleur de lis (a current favorite motif.)

Time to retire this one (it's full) and start another. Need to think of theme for cover art; eyeing my Celtic knotwork stamps, so maybe that. The kraft cover Moleskines are for writing; those are lined inside. Black ones, not pictured, are for art. Current thing there is hand-drawing striped borders around all interior pages. My drawing skills are pitiful, but borders, I can manage.

Having a fine time working on novel and two novellas, all in different stages. I like the energy I get switching off among the three. When one finishes, then a new one must begin. Hence the mini notebook that goes with me everywhere. No more lost ideas. At least in theory. It's the end of the day, and I'm loopy. But I have iced tea, so that's good.

Smells like spring and thirteen reasons why:

1. Last night was the season finale of Psych :cries:
2. My recent trip to Lane Bryant confirms I am indeed over one size smaller and coral is a universally flattering color.
3. The New England RWA conference is only two weeks away, eep.
4. Have had the "I come inside because I do not want to be outside" discussion at home regarding too many open windows.
5. I have carried my coat for three days straight.
6. Weekend forecast is rain, rain, rain. :happydance:
7. Jellybeans in stores everywhere.
8. I get to purchase jellybeans for office stash.
9. New Virginia Henley and Heather Graham historicals crook their fingers at me from the TBR bookcase.
10. Working on one novel and two novellas makes me happy. (Okay, not a spring thing but had to include it.)
11. Recent discovery of Right Said Fred albums in European release; must purchase.
12. Somerset Studio Digital Imaging is out and Somerset Memories should be out any day now.
13. New arty thing of the season around here: beading. Prettyful jewelry soon.

How could I not take that picture? I love snow, I love cemeteries, and this one was on the same street as a friend's house, and I had my camera right there with me, so everything I needed was right there. I love it when things fall together like that.

Back in my fanfiction days, I wrote a novel-legnth quartet of stories that took place on an arctic world, with much angst and adventure, mostly because I wanted to have all the snow I could possibly want in my story world. My latest novel has a wintry setting, and come to think of it, so did the first one. (they're not related) Also one of my novel bytes. Do we see a trend here? Winter is where my brain goes first and I have to remind myself other seasons need love, too.

Winter is a good fit for me. I love when there's a pristine blanket of white over everything and the delicious feeling of being the one to make the first footprint -or decide not to- and even helping dig out a friend's car brings a giddy thrill. It's only this year that I've remembered to have my camera at the ready to catch moments of wintry inspiration. Will I have more wintry stories? Undoubtedly. Will the other seasons get some of my attention? Undoubtedly there as well, but I'll always have a favorite and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Do you have a favorite g0-to season for reading or writing? What about it grabs you? Share, and maaaaybe I won't lob a snowball in your direction. Maybe. Because I love a good snowball fight.