Year: 2012

I have always loved autumn — the fall colors, the crisp air, Halloween and Thanksgiving.  It’s also a time of great reflection for me, as I tend to get more introspective and a bit depressed. I can’t really explain it.  I don’t believe I have Seasonal Affective Disorder; however, ever since I can remember, autumn has had an association with death for me.  I know what you’re thinking: well, of course, you moron!  Winter’s coming!  Of course there’s death! But wait, that’s not what I’m talking about.

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High school English was my least favorite subject, bar none. I hated it. I hated it so much that I didn’t even take it senior year, even though you had to have four years to graduate (luckily for me, my children’s theater class–where we went and performed at elementary schools–counted). Seems weird, right? An author who hated English?

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Recently I had the chance to reconnect with many of my high school friends. We’ve stayed in touch in the 15 years since graduation, through university and beyond, but our once close-knit group has drifted apart. Most of us see each other a few times a year, when the out-of-towners come back. We don’t tend to reminisce, but recent events have made me look back at the years and memories we’ve shared.

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Yesterday at work I kept glancing at my calendar. I’d highlighted Tuesday the 25th in orange at some point, and I didn’t know why. All day it bothered me. Orange is a danger color. If it had been green, I’d have known I was expecting money. Yellow is day(s) off. Yellow is for sunshine and joy! *cough* Orange. Something to be aware of, but not bad. Bad would be pink.

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There is a serious problem in my hometown.  It borders on an epidemic. There are no cue balls in any bowling alley billiards rooms. You’d think they’d want us to hand over our $1.00 and play the game.  You’d think they’d want us to know that their establishment can be trusted to have cue balls.  You’d think they would care. What are two pool enthusiasts to do with no cue balls anywhere?  It’s a chilling thought.  A thought that makes my palms sweat and gives me nightmares.

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You know, one of the nice things about being an Indie press is that we don’t have to subscribe to the “trends” that the big publishers follow. Trends, you say? There are trends? Oh, absolutely.

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Two months ago, I moved into my first house. It’s a fixer-upper in an established urban neighbourhood full of older Italians and Portuguese and a younger multicultural crowd. There’s an elderly gentleman across the street who sits on his porch of a morning and always wishes me “Buon giorno!”

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First let me say I’m not done publishing. I’m not done editing, and I’m certainly not done writing. Those things are and will continue to be a huge part of my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Turtleduck KD is here to stay. That said, there’s a new adventure in my life. I’m loving every moment and I think I will never let it go again. No, I’m not talking about Tom Hiddleston.

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Now that Fey Touched is out and in the wild, I’ve been turning my attention to the sequel, Grave Touched. Except that my muse has been vehemently resisting doing any kind of writing. Sure, she’s been pinging me with all kinds of ideas for other books (I think we’re up to five or six now) but not Grave Touched. It’s like she’s got a mental block, or maybe I do. Backing up a bit. When I first started writing Fey Touched, I didn’t really have an outline. I had a bunch of ideas for storylines and what I wanted to accomplish, but nothing concrete. I’ve had varied success with actual outlining, but I seem to write my best work without an outline (“pantsing” in writer-speak – writing by the seat of your pants) and I used that method for the first 120k of Fey Touched. It wasn’t until the end that I actually outlined anything. Also, I’ve been complimented on my ability to weave the storylines together. And it’s weird, because that part wasn’t even conscious. It just happened. I swear, I did nothing but go on pure instinct (and quite possibly pure panic as I was coming up on my deadline and had to rewrite the second half in two weeks.) So, naturally, I wanted to go with what worked, but I’m having issues.

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There’s recently been a change in my life that has required me to spend more time away from the keyboard. I mean, I can sit at the computer, and often have one hand available, but the time where I can quickly and easily type has diminished. After going slightly stir-crazy, I decided I would try using voice recognition software to try and stay at my normal output. I did some research online, but discovered that my computer’s OS had a built-in version. Being a cheapskate, we went with that.

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