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Month: October 2018

Join the Party

Do you ever have one of those moments when it hits you–wow. It’s 2018. It’s been ___ years since ___. I’m having one of those moments. I can’t quite grasp that Turtleduck Press is almost eight years old. Wow. You work and you do and you focus, and suddenly you look up and you’ve been doing this awesome thing for eight years. I’m just a bit boggled by that. In eight years, we’ve published 21 books. At a story a month, minus months we published a book, that’s 8*12-21=75 (whoops, it’s not eight years until December, so) -2 = 73 free stories. That’s a lot of meetings and emails and collaboration and friendship and joy. Siri Paulson is a delight, y’all. She’s insightful and kind and a marvelous writer, as well as a brilliant editor. She’s had lots of practice at making me, in particular, look good, along with many other writers. Kit Campbell has a dry humor that makes me snort. She’s whip-smart and knowledgeable and a force for organization and foresight. In addition to her contributions to TDP, she edits and formats books. And as if all that weren’t enough, she writes awesome stories. Erin Zarro…what to say about Erin? Her stories are imaginative and full of characters you care about. Her poetry is full of feeling and power. She also edits freelance, in addition to her work with TDP. Erin herself is fun and interesting, just a sheer pleasure to have around. Why am I babbling on…

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Random Stuff in My Head

Usually I can come up with a subject to blog about fairly easily, but today I feel like everything I came up with was repetitive or boring. So I give you this, a random mishmash of sh$% inside my head. You’re welcome. 🙂 Random thought #1: Last night, I dreamed I was in a room and there was an earthquake. The entire room shook (and maybe the whole city?). In the dream I screamed, and in real life, I screamed too. I woke my husband up and he held me for a bit. Say it with me: “Awwwwww.” Random thought #2: I made a very odd yet intriguing discovery last night around 12:30. I had a horrific TN pain attack and needed a painkiller, and I wondered idly if it was tied to my hormonal cycle. I remembered reading something about that before. So because I’m a bad ass and have an app and a log of all my pain for the past two years, the information was literally at my fingertips. I did a quick cursory glance so I don’t know about all of it, but from what I read so far, there is definitely a correlation. I’d like to eventually put it into a spreadsheet or graph or something so I can see it all together (one day, she says. One day when she’s not slammed with work). Random Thought #3: I just landed two new clients, yay! Both are amazing and awesome and I am so happy.…

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Over-commitment October

Good morning, friends! It’s my favorite month of the year, October, which means, as usual, I have committed to too many things. Stupid month of possibility, letting me think I knew what the heck I was doing. Bah! (Actually, I made the same mistake with September, so maybe it’s fall in general. Or maybe it’s me.) I think I told you guys about the programming class. It ends at the end of the month, and I’ve reached a point in the subject matter where I just don’t quite understand what’s going on. It’s early in the week, and hopefully some of the other assignments will clarify things, but it’s still a bit frustrating. I’ve got a major edit for a repeat client. I’m almost a quarter of the way done, and probably won’t be completely done until mid-December. English isn’t his first language, though he’s spoken it for quite some time, so there’s a lot of little fiddly things to keep an eye on. Rehearsals have started for the Christmas show at my local church/community theater. I’ve been trying out for years and never getting anything except general ensemble, so you can imagine my surprise when they put me both in a small group and gave me a solo. Admittedly, I’m pretty sure I got said solo because of my range (I can sing tenor fairly comfortably) and not because of voice quality, so that’s a thing. I’m feeling pretty awkward about the whole thing, which hopefully is just cuz…

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Writing Retreat vs. Real Life

Last week I was away at the annual writing retreat that my critique group holds. We rent a cabin on a lake (called a “cottage” in these parts), bring our laptops, take turns cooking, and sit around typing in companionable silence all day, with breaks for long walks and swims (well, not this year, too cold) and talking about craft and publishing. It’s also my Internet and news detox week for the year. I’ll read books, but that’s all. It’s always wonderful. (I wrote a first draft of a longish short story that you’ll get to see early next year, fiddled around with an edit of a different story, started brainstorming some new stuff, and even wrote some poetry.) My absolute favourite place to write is on the deck surrounded by forest, or down on the dock, or somewhere on the wooded slope in between. This year was mostly too chilly for that. But on several of the days it was crisp-not-cold, nice enough for long walks through the changing leaves. It’s like magic. The mental and physical clutter of daily life is gone. Normally I have wrist issues and confidence issues. Somehow, on retreat, the one gets managed* and the other just…vanishes. *Okay, it’s not a mystery. I managed by being very careful. I took lots of breaks, switched between my laptop keyboard and my external keyboard, did lots of stretches including solid 15-minute sessions of yoga each day, and also switched to Dragon dictation software at the first…

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Curiosity Killed the Cat – Part 2

Curiosity Killed the Cat A free fantasy serial by KD Sarge Part 2: Before a Closed Door (Read part 1 here) Jhi Bo heard a muffled shout and just knew it wasn’t the child she sought. It was Srivasi. He’d found trouble again. Somehow. Heaven’s truth, she thought, she should just leave him to the consequences, but she was already running as she thought it. The farm girl saw Jhi Bo running and shouted something, her face joyful, as she ran to intersect her path. Jhi Bo ran past her. The girl’s feet thudded behind her; the goats with their bells trotted after. In the middle of two stone-marked circles—multiple warnings, right there, that this place was important and should be left alone—in a dome of marble and glass surrounded by circles, Jhi Bo found nothing of Srivasi but the fading scent of his fear. The dome was glorious; the floor was smooth dirt, patterned and braided as if a river had run over it. In the center of the room stood a twisted pillar of marble with writing chasing over every surface. To Jhi Bo, it was another warning—probably go away, written in a number of scripts—but she knew it was just the thing to attract foolish Srivasi and his all-devouring curiosity. But then why wasn’t he still poring over it? The girl, Gerda, came into the dome, her eyes on the soaring pillar. The goats, wiser than their human, stayed outside. Gerda said something in a questioning tone. She might…

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