Tag: coffee

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the dark side slump

I’ve been meaning to write for days, weeks even. My muse seems to have fled the building, taking all of my creativity and such with her, so it’s been a dry month or so. I managed to mostly do a poem a day for April, only missing a couple of days due to either migraines or other impairment.

I celebrated Star Wars Day yesterday and I’m starting to get excited/anxious about Celebration at the end of the month. Between here and there I have a lot of work and such. I continue to love my day job and working from home continues to be the best thing ever.

I have taken up a new creative hobby in acrylic paint pouring. I’m decorating my house, one abstract masterpiece at a time! It is, however, incredibly addictive and I’m running out of wall space! I’m sure I’ll find someone to gift/sell them to.

I have a lot of thoughts about the current political situation, but I’ll save those for another day.

For this Sith Holy Day (Revenge of the 5th), I have some Death Wish Coffee in my Death Wish Coffee cup, a ton of work meetings on tap, and a kitty who thinks I should play hooky and snuggle her.

I hope you are all safe and sane (ish) and wish you good coffee and tasty foods.

Photo by TOMMY VAN KESSEL on Unsplash

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walking because it’s good for me

I used to walk a lot, largely because my day included a half-mile walk from my house to the train, and from the train to the office, plus I’d aim for a mile or two at lunch. Most days I averaged a sum total of around five miles in a day.

Then, along came the pandemic.

Like so many others, exercise became problematic for me. Sure, I could still go out for walks, but in the early days, when we weren’t sure exactly how this thing was transmitted, I had no desire to accidentally have to be near people who could have this thing and not know it.

After a while, it just became easier to just stay home. I got lazy.

I’ll admit that when contemplating the move out here to Stockton, I worried that the trend would continue, because I had no idea what the neighborhoods around me were like, so I didn’t know how safe I’d be walking.

I have walked every day for the last 9 days, starting off at just over a mile and working up to the last three days which have averaged 3 miles. Somedays I take a planned out route. Somedays I play a game of “where does this road go” which, I will admit, has gotten me into trouble in the past as I’ve either gotten a bit lost, or ended up on a road that didn’t connect back to where I started without turning around.

Yesterday I played the game and was rewarded with a very lovely walk in the not-quite-daylight and this beautiful sunrise.

For me, walking is a time when I can be in my body, in my own head, without the interference of the day’s agenda and all of the things I need to do. Sometimes I’m composing poetry. Sometimes world building. Sometimes I’m just remembering things and people and places.

And yes, sometimes I’m just thinking about putting one foot in front of the other to get back home.

The day is always waiting for me when I get back, with work to be done and such. Today’s walk needs to start a bit earlier than it has been, as I have meetings starting at 7:30 am. I am currently drinking coffee and thinking about today’s walk. Where will the adventure lead? I may take the reverse course I did yesterday, or I may divert around a park I spotted yesterday. I won’t know until my feet hit the road.

I hope your day includes many wonderful adventures, Readers. May the Friday be with you.

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therapy in words

When I was in my teens, I wrote poetry daily. Granted, most of it sucked. I was a very different person back then and my exposure to the world was limited to small-town upstate New York and my very religious mind-frame. But, that isn’t the point. The point was in the joy of just writing whatever came to mind.

A good chunk of what I wrote was steeped in the far-right, evangelical Christianity that I was saturated with at the time, but one of the things I learned then was that I could spew my darker emotions, my darkest views of the world, into my poetry as a means of processing those things without poisoning who I was.

It is a lesson I have carried on into my adulthood. A lot of folks who read my poetry ask me about it, about how my poetry doesn’t seem to reflect the person they think of me as. Often it is because poetry is my therapy. And it remains so today.

Sure, I can be fun or silly, or sultry in my poetry as well. But, I think it’s in my darker work that I shine the most, if that makes sense. I pour a lot of who I am into my words and I can spend a long time working over the words I choose to express myself…but sometimes a poem simply falls onto a page and there is no work, only emotion.

That’s why I consider it my therapy, and since going back to writing at least one poem everyday, I’m finding myself on better footing mentally. It feels really good.

Anyway, it’s Friday and payday here in my world, so I’m off to pay bills before starting the day job. I hope this weekend treats you well, Readers, with good food, better coffee and a bit of poetry to decorate your world.

Photo by Álvaro Serrano on Unsplash

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life, writing, and muddling through

It feels trivial somehow to talk about the mundane aspects of a mundane life when around the world people are suffering and dying in zones of war, bombs falling from the sky, buildings reduced to rubble and scared populations huddle in the dark or flee desperately to foreign lands.

At the same time, for those of us not in that immediate situation, life continues at its regular, mundane pace and so we go on.

In writing news, The Daughters of Morru is now available over on my Patreon page for all Patrons at the Enablers tier ($3 /month) and up. Chapters are posted every Sunday. So far three chapters are available.

I continue in my quest to write a poem per day, with first access to those available on either my Patreon page (for all Patrons $1 and up) and my Ko-Fi page (for all supporters, even 1 time donors). So far I’ve only missed one day, due to an accident that left me a bit concussed and rendered my muse mute.

I continue to settle into the new place, getting a little more comfortable every day. I now have an actual kitchen table and chairs, which I haven’t had in close to ten years. I’m almost feeling like a proper grown up!

I’m hoping my Death Wish Coffee order shows up soon, or I may have to resort to Starbucks this week! Fortunately, there’s a Starbucks walking distance from my house…I just need to find my make up to cover up my bruised up face (I look like someone punched me right between my eyes).

But, it’s almost time to start the day job and I still have today’s poem to write, so I shall leave you to your Tuesday, Readers. I hope it is filled with kindness and good things!

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dream a little dream

Have you ever woken up with your heart racing, sweat on your forehead, and anxiety riding you out of some nightmare that you can’t recall anything about? That was how today started. For the life of me, I have no idea what I was dreaming, but I woke up feeling like something or someone was trying to kill me.

I’ve always been a vivid dreamer, even as a kid, so when I get nightmares, they’re usually just as vivid and they stick with me for days. Just not today.

When I was around 8 through my mid-teens, I had a recurring nightmare about a vampire and my neighbor’s basement. To this day I can remember it vividly. Later my nightmares turned to more mundane fare, with stuff like missed deadlines and having my money stolen and friends betraying me.

Some of that feeds on my imposter syndrome and my weird social hang ups. The rest I chalk up to stress usually. Not sure what was driving whatever dream I had to wake up like that, as most of my stress from the move has died down and I’m pretty happy at the moment.

The subconscious is such a weird and wonderful place, and I rely on it as an author to bring my ideas to life, at least within my head. Without that, I’m not sure I would have all of these delicious stories and characters to write about.

Well, Readers, it’s Saturday and I promised myself some writing time before I get busy with the chores list, so I should finish up this coffee and get to it. Have a great weekend!

Photo by Raul Guilherme on Unsplash

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nesting

I have arrived at my favorite part of moving: the nesting phase. There is something satisfying about finding new homes for your things and settling into the new routine.

This house has more storage space than the old one, and an extra bedroom that will likely become the craft room. There is also an extra bathroom and an actual place for a kitchen table. There are also stairs, which one of the kitties thinks is the best thing ever.

The downstairs bedroom is now my office and it has a sizeable closet which, when combined with an actual craft room, means my office will stay cleaner because I don’t have to empty the closet every time I’m looking for something!

There is still so much unpacking to do, but I have today and tomorrow to devote to it, and that should get me to a good place.

The cats are getting used to the place, and getting used to being indoor kitties again. The old house was on a quiet street where I didn’t have to worry about them being outside. The new house is in a much busier neighborhood with cars going by at all hours and kids walking to and from school and the small shopping center around the corner. The doorbell camera is getting a good workout.

I should have my tax refund this week, so I’ll be able to go get myself a washer and dryer for further settling in (and not having to schlep laundry around).

In writing news, I slapped together some poetry this morning. If you’re interested, have a gander: morning-news.

The coffee cup is empty, so I guess that means it’s time to get to work. Have a wonderful Saturday, Readers!

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and we’re done

Well, not quite *done* exactly. I have finished at the old home. Yesterday I went back to get my succulents and other odds and ends that got left on moving day, and with the help of a friend, we cleaned the place to the point where it is cleaner than it was when I moved in, other than 12-year-old cream-colored carpets that wouldn’t come clean even with bleach.

I have today off work, ostensibly for settling in, but I’m pretty wiped out today, and sore all over. If nothing else today, I need to finish emptying the truck and put the plants out back so I can take the truck back to my sister-in-law and get my car back.

Then I can take the week to slowly begin unpacking. I may try to finish setting up the kitchen today so I can cook an actual meal this evening. My next most important bit is the office, so that it’s set up Wednesday when the cable installer is here.

Once that stuff is done, I think I’ll set myself a goal of at least two boxes per day to get emptied and all the stuff in them can find a home. I have so much more storage in this house! Plus a whole two-car garage, where even more can be stowed.

I still need to come up with a kitchen table and chairs and a washer/dryer, but I figure that’s what tax refunds are for.

I also have a lengthy wish list on Amazon of things I need or would be nice to have in the house. The longer I’m here, the longer the list gets. (https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2XS9D465BNIUP?ref_=wl_share if you’re so inclined).

The cats are starting to settle in. They’ve discovered the joys of a front-facing window on a street with lots going on, and Freya thinks the stairs are an amusement park ride.

For now, however, I’m sipping on some Death Wish Coffee and contemplating a hot shower. I might even find some writing time at some point today. Does anyone know which box I packed Brain, my muse, in?

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the light at the end of the tunnel

I’m nine days away from moving day, and let me tell you, I’m exhausted. There is light at the end of the tunnel, there’s just a lot of tunnel between me and that light.

I’m surrounded by boxes and bins. They’re stacked everywhere. I’ve got a wall of boxes in the office. There’s a bunch of boxes stacked in front of the closet in my bedroom. The entertainment center in the living room is surrounded by boxes. The dining area is starting to look like a tower of boxes.

It’s hard to believe there could still be anything to pack. However, there seems to be stuff everywhere that still needs to fit into boxes. And I’m still living in this house, so not everything can get packed.

Being a very Virgo Virgo, I have lists for packing, cleaning, things that need to be done two days out, one day out, and the day of moving. There is a satisfaction that comes with checking off boxes.

I go out to the new place on Sunday to sign the lease and do the walk through with the landlady. She even has a checklist for inspecting every room.

For now, though, I have some Death Wish coffee in my Stormtrooper Pew-Pew mug, and lots of work for the day job to get done.

Have a great Thursday, Readers.

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moving right along

I have found my new home! In a little under two weeks, I will be moving to a lovely little townhouse in Stockton, CA. Good thing I was already mostly packed up.

Between here and there I have a lot of cleaning to do and packing to finish. I plan on making a few runs with my sister-in-law’s truck filled with boxes, so there is less the movers have to do. Movers are pricey.

My new place is a small three bedroom, with lots of storage and two full bathrooms. Not that I need two full bathrooms, but you know. And a garage. I’ve never lived as an adult in a place where I had a garage. There’s a fireplace in the living room and laminate floors throughout, goodbye carpet!

It has a cute little balcony on the second floor, perfect for a little coffee spot. I’m also enjoying “shopping” for things I’ll need, by which I mean, throwing all the things I want on a wish list, which can double as an idea list for anyone wanting to do housewarming gifts.

I’m excited to get my new kitchen aid mixer set up in my new kitchen!

I generally dislike moving, at least this part of it. I love setting up a new house though. It’s amazing how much work there is to get done!

My coffee cup is nearing empty, so I guess that means I should get busy. May today be filled with kindness, Readers!

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let them eat cake

I am in the process of edits, which means a lot of reading punctuated with spurts of writing/changing and a fair amount of admiration for writer-me who strung together some pretty decent words.

My writing process goes a little something like this:

  1. Zero-Draft, just get the plot onto the page
  2. Character Study, get the details down for reference
  3. First Edit, smooth out the plot on the page and add description/scene/dialog as needed
  4. Put the book down and work on something else for a while.
  5. Second Edit, clean up typos, fix plot holes
  6. Continuity Edit, make sure character descriptions and the like are consistent
  7. Read the whole thing out loud, fix things as they come up
  8. Polish
  9. Start the next book

I am on step 5 for the second book in the Blood Witch series. I have completed step 1 for book 3. Book 1 is complete (at least until it finds an editor) and I have begun querying agents.

This is kind of the sweet spot for me, the time I am most happy with my writing. I love these characters. I love the world(s) I’ve built. There will still be a period of doubt, when I’m sure the whole thing is crap, but for now, I am wallowing in the love.

I don’t write to get rich or famous. In fact, I’ve made less in royalties in the years I’ve been publishing than I used to make babysitting as a teenager. I write because I have stories to tell, characters to introduce to the world. It’s nice to make a little money, sure. Would it be awesome if everyone loved these stories as much as I do? Sure. But it’s just icing. The cake is where I find satisfaction.

My coffee is almost gone, so I guess it’s time to get back to baking…I mean editing. Happy Sunday, Readers. May it be pleasant.

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