In January 2025, TYG dragged Snowdrop inside for fear the cold weather would be fatal.
After a couple of nights of wailing and hiding under furniture, he settled in quite nicely. I’m sure having Wisp around helped.
He’s very skittish about being petted. Wisp is always up for petting, he’s much more wary. And hates it when both TYG and I seem to be closing in on him.
However he’s establishing his own turf — he loves those poofs TYG recently bought (they double as bags holding extra sheets and blankets). And he’s never attempted to run out again, despite having had occasional opportunities (we try to minimize those, just in case). Overall he seems happy with his life as a pampered indoor cat: Wisp, easy food, comfortable places to sit, normal temperatures, no mosquitos—the summer before he came indoors, they absolutely mutilated his ears.
Four pets is a lot, but we’re glad the cat distribution network sent you are way, Snow-Snow. And not having to sit with you in the living room with the porch door open on freezing cold — it used to be the only way he’d come in and get warm — is a plus too.
Earlier this week I told myself, hey, at least I’ll have finished Jekyll and Hyde by the end of New Year’s Eve … sigh.
The manuscript went off today, thank goodness, but even so … sigh. A bigger sigh because I didn’t get anything else finished this year. And because the worn shoes I usually walk the dogs in — good, supportive sneakers, though ragged — got a disastrous amount of shit on them Wednesday after Plushie took a gooey poo in the dark. So they’re toast. Then today when I was supposed to start PT for my bursitis, the rehab place called to say my therapist was sick, can I reschedule for two weeks. I’d really hoped to start on a day I wouldn’t be putting in a full day’s work.
Getting back to writing …Southern Discomfort didn’t come out. I didn’t finish Savage Adventures. Didn’t get the next draft of Let No Man Put Asunder or Impossible Takes a Little Longer done. I have a couple of short stories that need just a little tinkering … which they didn’t get. I sold some books (thank you, all my readers! I appreciate you!) but I ended up the year with slightly less money in the bank than I started out. Not Christmas presents, just a bunch of extra, and necessary expenses at the end of the year.
Part of the problem is that writing for the Local Reporter kept eating up my time — long meetings, a bunch of interviews in one week. Theoretically that should have meant less work the following week as I got ahead. Somehow it never did. I like the work but I’ll have to manage it better in 2026.
Part of it was that working on Jekyll and Hyde took up a lot of time and, of course, more of it as I moved to the finish. I should have anticipated that — movie books are fun but they always take more time than I expect.
Plus the perennial challenge of increasing pet demands. Dealing with two cats in the morning, albeit ones I love, is somehow more than twice as distracting.
Part of it … I don’t know. I made progress on all my projects but I didn’t finish anything. That’s the perennial risk of writing, particularly when 90 percent of my deadlines are self-imposed: I can write and rewrite until the cows come home and then decide to rewrite some more. If anything, that’s a weakness that gets worse over time. As Lawrence Block said, I can see more ways a story can go than I could when I was younger. That can produce better stories; it can also lead to lots of second guessing and deciding to do it over or telling myself it could be perfect if I just rewrite … like they say, the perfect is the enemy of the good.
For 2026 I have ambitious goals on my 68 for 68 list. Not ones that should exceed my grasp. Two drafts of both novels. Finish Savage Adventures. Publish Southern Discomfort. Make more money. Submit more stuff (I’d gotten out of the habit this year). Plus, of course, enjoy my life (not a stated goal on my list but still). Despite the frustration with my writing, I had a good year in most other ways. I’d like to have another one in 2026.
To end on an up note, we took the Christmas tree down yesterday. Because it’s in the living room this year (easier than rearranging the two cat litterboxes where we normally put the tree) I realized I could take it out through the French doors (visible behind it) and across the deck and not have to deal with a trail of needles all the way through the house to the front door. It worked! Much less physical strain too. I’ll take it as a good omen.
And frustrating as missing my deadline was, when I got Jekyll and Hyde off this morning, it felt sooooo damn good. I went to celebrate at a local coffee shop … which was closed until tomorrow.
It still felt good to finish.
Happy New Year and best wishes to all y’all.
All rights to images remain with current holders. Comics cover by Jack Kirby with Ditko inking.
A good, productive week, even if I feel quite wiped out.
Last weekend was our annual writer’s group Christmas Party. Smaller than usual, still fun, and we’re still pigging out on leftovers. However it’s an exhausting day setting up for it, from cleaning to cooking (chili, cornbread, beer bread, fruit compote). Next year we’re going to plan better and do some of the cleaning earlier in the month (stuff can be moved out of the way).
Of course, I had to move my computer up to my office and out of the way. Turns out someone knew the password.
One of my goals for next year is cleaning up my room. Quite aside from my guest (a doll from my mother’s play therapy practice) it’s disorganized enough even I can’t stand it.
Anyway, that left TYG and me wiped out Sunday, though we managed to put the house back into shape. Fortunately I’ve been sleeping well lately — every so often I’ll go through a no-insomnia stretch and this is apparently one of them. As I mentioned last week, waking up “late” throws me off my game but this time I seem to be coping.
I got two stories in for The Local Reporter, one on local first responders winning an award and one on local GoFundMe projects. And I’m feeling more confident I can finish the book. I rewrote about 40 percent of the text, wrote more on the Hulk chapter and put some more thought into the title. The rewriting showed me it’s in better shape than I realized. Yay me.
Very little else got done. I have several tasks I want to complete but I’m confining myself to the absolute necessities right now. I may be writing this weekend — I’ll probably put in at least one day — but it won’t be as exhausting as the party. Not that I mind — we don’t entertain much so it’s nice to have one big event every year.
Plushie had his recheck Monday. The review is mixed: he’s improving, though not as fast as they’d like. Surgery might still be necessary but maybe not. So we continue what we’re doing (exercise, walks, PT) and have another checkup in January. Fingers crossed. He also got his eye exam and despite his glaucoma, his peepers are still holding up. The vet was quite astonished he’s almost sixteen. That pleases us.
And I sold one copy of Sex for Dinner, Death for Breakfast last month. Thank you, unknown buyer, for giving my book a shot.
Bonus photo, here’s Snowdrop under the Christmas tree. So far neither cat has attempted to climb it.
As I wrote in 2017 if I lived in isolation it would be much easier to manage my time. I’d be more efficient but, of course, more miserable. You can trust me on this; I was single and pet-free for most of my life and married with pets is better.
This year I got even less isolated due to making Snowdrop an inside cat back in January. After the first week or so, it worked out well; Wisp slept downstairs with Snowdrop at night so I could wake up and do a half-hour of exercise and stretching without the cats deciding my body language was an invitation to snuggle. After a long stretch of doing that stuff irregularly (ever since we took Wisp in two-plus years ago) the improvement in how my body feels is marked (plus improvements in things like balance).
But the nature of living in a house with four pets and another person is that there’s never a permanent time-management solution. First we have Dudley’s injuries requiring added PT time. Then the past couple of months we’ve been going to bed later — not the occasional thing where I have a Zoom writers’ meeting or TYG has to work late but just shifting “normal” by a half-hour to an hour. No big, except that it means I get up later (assuming I’m sleeping well, and lately I have been) which throws off my schedule. I wind up skipping exercise or skipping the half-hour of tea and reading that follows it up, or I do both and start writing a lot later. Which is not good because with the PT and various other stuff, I don’t have any wriggle room to make it up later in the day. And in the evening, I’m not up for it.
(Plushie escaped recently when we neglected to lock his cage. Fortunately he didn’t do anything to harm his leg, just climbed up on the couch).
Another is that TYG’s been doing more work in the early morning before bringing Plushie down. That results in dog PT, walkies and my morning ablutions not getting done until around 9:30, about 90 minutes later than “normal.” Logically I should have 90 minutes extra before she comes down but frequently it doesn’t work that way. Perhaps because Trixie insists on coming down earlier and I spend extra time petting her? It doesn’t seem like that can be the whole thing, but …
This week part of the problem has been Dudley suddenly resisting eating his meds, no matter what tasty treats we wrap them in. He’ll eat them eventually but it can add a good ten minutes to the morning routine.
And part of it is that I bought us a Jacquie Lawson digital advent calendar, having had so much fun with one a friend got us last year. Checking out the day’s offerings in the morning eats time, but pleasantly. A couple of days ago, the game for the day was decorating a snowman. We went, perhaps, a little overboard.
I will muddle through this month and launch some sort of adjusted schedule with the New Year.
This week I accomplished one of the nuts-and-bolts of writing this book, going over the cast and behind the scenes credits for each entry and fleshing them out. Also rearranging some of the entries to make sure the chapters are even length; figuring out which chapters a couple of movies should go in (they don’t quite fit any of the chapter topics); and checking for movies I’d forgotten to enter in the book at all (there were a couple). I think I’m on track for an end of the year finish.
On a lighter note, I’ve been attending a Genre Book Club this year, an event sponsored by the Durham Library where the organizer picks a genre each month and we all read a book of our choice fitting the theme. At this week’s meeting, Elle, the moderator, gave regular attendees Christmas ornaments reflecting our choice of books through the year.
Very cool.
Simak cover by Richard Powers. All rights to images remain with current holders.
I got up this morning and realized for the first time in years, I hadn’t scheduled a post already (sometimes they don’t load right, but they’re always scheduled). In lieu of anything thoughtful and intelligent, here are some photos of Snowdrop looking at you.
This space between the coffee table and the couch is his favorite bolt-hole.
Under the chair is another.
Here he’s watching Wisp. They seem to enjoy sitting together in the cat tower, but not on the same level.
