Author: Jonathon

Happy Fourth of July! I love the reason for this holiday, but I hate how we celebrate it. We live in a suburban neighborhood where it is illegal to shoot off fireworks, and frankly, dangerous. We are dangerously close to a drought here. Today was the first good rain in days, and people are shooting fireworks off. Not little ones mind you, but Roman-freaking-candles. They are shooting them off around twenty to thirty feet, or less in the air. I always notice that people that do this never seem to shoot the blasted things over their house, but will shoot it so it comes over mine or someone else’s. If they’re going to set a house on fire shouldn’t it be their own they put at risk? Before anyone writes in and says, well it’s just a few fireworks, it can’t hurt anything . . . Check out the stats for injuries and fire damage every blasted year on account of fireworks. Our house is besieged this year with fireworks shooting off in front, behind, to the side. My dogs are spooked, my kid can’t sleep, and last night they shot the things off until midnight, at least. Last night we tried to be a good sport because most of us got the day off, but tomorrow the work week begins again, and you can’t sleep with this going on.
We’re off to try and sleep. Happy Fourth, hope your neighbors are more considerate than our’s are, this year.

The wolf howl was wonderful, as always. They had a bumper crop of puppies this year at the Wild Canid Survival Center so when we went into the woods to try and get the wolves to howl for us, the puppies were sooo cute. They can’t quite howl yet, so they barked, barked, barked, barked.
We started the evening as all the wolf howls start with me reading from the next not published book. I read from DANSE MACABRE the next Anita book. Read the first sixty-two pages, which was all I brought with me. We didn’t do the question and answer session first which left us with about fifteen minutes extra to read, but since it’s one of the few times people voted for reading instead of Q and A, well, it caught me off-guard, so not enough pages. Truthfully, though most of the rest of the book is so full of spoilers, that I’m not sure I could have read from it. Of course, the book sort of begins with spoilers, but since the first chapter is going to be in the back of the paper back edition of INCUBUS DREAMS, I figured it would be okay. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized that actually the novel-lite MICAH will be published next, so I could actually have read from that. I’m just not accustomed to having so many things pubbing so close together. It’s cool, but it’s sort of hard to keep track.
Darla suggested that we might do a similar event for some other outdoorsey charity. If we do it, then I’ll read from the novel-lite. One of the reasons that Darla suggested it is she found out there were two-hundred people on the waiting list to try for tickets to the wolf howl. Because the place is an actual breeding facility for endangered wild canids they don’t allow too many people into it at a time for fear of spooking the wolves. Also the wolves are less likely to howl to a huge group. So they limit the number of people to a little over a hundred at one time. The exception to that is the open house they have I believe once a year, but they are careful to time it when there is no active breeding going on for the wolves.
This was the first reading at high summer, so it was light. I didn’t have to read by camp fire and flashlight. No camp fire at all, not in a hundred degrees worth of heat. The other two times I believe were autumn, and winter. Though the winter howl may not have been me reading, but just me going with my family to a howl. They do those, too. Volunteers will tell wolf oriented folk stories, and then you all walk into the dark to try and get the wolves to howl. No guarantees on the howling. The wolves aren’t trick animals, they are wild animals that howl when they want to. We’ve been very lucky each time and had them howl. Standing in the dark with the voices of the wolves rising around us is one of the most amazing experiences.
For those who saw us in Chicago at the ALA, I was off the cane and walking relatively normally. Though I wore the flat combat style boots, and am still only able to wear jogging shoes or the one pair of boots. Anything else still torks my knee. Ah, well.

The scene is done, yea! There is always a scene that will not die. And I’m always happy when it’s behind me. I’m either half way or a little more than half way done with DANSE MACABRE. Yea! I would have said I was a third of the way done, but Edward hasn’t come on stage and I know that until he hits the page I won’t really know how long the book is going to be. But we are still chapters away from Edward’s appearance, and that scares me about the length of the book. Enough of this, I can only write the pages for this day. I have to let the pages for later wait for later. I did thirteen pages today, which is more than I’ve done since before I left for Chicago. I hope I’m getting back into the groove. We’ll see.

Got back late-ish Sunday from the ALA in Chicago. It was nice to see everybody that came out for the signing. A special hi, to Jodi, always good to see you. Since it was my audio publisher, Brilliance Audio, that flew me out I signed MP3 CDs containing the complete A STROKE OF MIDNIGHT. There isn’t much room to sign on a CD. It gave me a new sympathy to all those musicians out there doing signing events. Much more room to sign in a book, even a paperback.
It was great to see everyone, but Jonathon and I are both beat. I know for myself that it’s the plane ride. If I go too long between plane rides the phobia tends to get bad again. Sigh. First class isn’t a luxury for me; I’ve found those few inches of extra leg space makes a real difference to my claustrophobia. Don’t even get me started on having to transfer to smaller planes to do out of the way places. Going back and forth for my Grandmother’s final illness and funeral is only reached by prop planes. Yippee-skippy.
For those that are wondering why these phobias? I was in a plane where the flight attendants ended up plastered against the roof of the cabin with the force of the plane going for the ground. The plane inexplicably righted itself as suddenly as it had started down. (Yes, I did give Anita this little story as part of her personal background.) My claustrophobia is from a diving incident I had years ago, before that I liked small spaces. Anita is also claustrophobic but I think hers stems from waking up in coffins with big, bad vampires. I think that’d do it for most people. I initially gave Anita some of my phobias to help her seem more human, more real, and more vulnerable. Frankly, it also helps because it’s how I feel about the travel and it’s one less thing I have to write that isn’t how I feel personally. Anita always seems to push me outside my comfort zones, and I guess I push her, too. Anyway, I’m off to an early bed. I actually laid down for a brief nap today and Jonathon had to wake me so I could eat dinner. Like I said, I’m beat.

Gearing up for the trip to Chicago. Jonathon and I will be at the ALA (American Library Association). Not open to the public, sorry. My understanding is you need to be a librarian or the guest of a librarian to get in. See, don’t you wish you’d been better friends with your local librarian. We had a lovely time at the last library conference we did in Cape Cod with the MLA (Mass. Library Association).
Book is going well, though not as quickly as I’d like. But then it seldom does. I’ll be glad to meet everyone in Chicago, but it seems like no matter when we plan a trip it always catches me in the middle of a book. But, wait, I’m always in the middle of a book. Oh, yeah, I forgot. But anyway, I managed to bunk my knee up so all those cool high heels I bought are out for this trip. But I hurt myself wearing flats. I’m the only person I know that can wear five inch heels and be fine, but will injure myself in totally flat sandals. Go figure.
The manicure and nail thing was cancelled when we arrived at the shop and found a sign for family emergency, closed until next week. I hope everyone is alright. Tried to get in and get the nails done elsewhere but everywhere I tried was swamped with walk-ins. I decided if it was a choice of having perfect nails or of writing more on the book, I’d write more on the book. Usually I fret if I don’t have the nails done and can’t wear some really kick-ass clothes, but not today. Jonathon and I will look nice, but the cruel shoes will stay home. Today I’m strangely calm about the whole thing. Usually any one of these, the nails or the outfits going off the list, would send me into a tizzy, but today I’m calm. I guess I’m saving the panic for the airplane ride.

I wrote this yesterday, but you’re getting it today. Trying to keep up with that whole five days a week blog entry.
I’m tired. I’ve only done nine pages today, but it’s not the page count I’m griping about. I had several days of seven pages a day and I was fine with that. What’s griping me is that the nine pages doesn’t really further the plot. I’m still in the same scene I started the day in. I thought I’d get through it and be on to the next scene, but instead, I’m still stuck. It’s not that it’s not a good scene, but it’s that it gives the illusion of no progress made. Of course we’re doing several firsts in this scene, so it’s got to be plotted, choreographed, and tiptoed through. Why? Because even with Richard not in this scene, Anita is still there and she’s quite capable of throwing a monkey wrench all on her own. So Jean-Claude, Micah, and Nathaniel have been very careful of her. They keep waiting for her to have a fit about some of the earlier events of the evening, or for what is happening now. So far, she’s calm. I actually seem to be having more trouble with this scene than she is, unusual. Usually Anita and I have a discomfort level that is about even, but not today. Today I, like the men, have waited for her to say no way, not doing this. So far, so good. I think she caught me and the three guys in the scene off-guard simply by not fighting. Funny, we were geared up for a fight, and when it didn’t happen it threw us. It threw Jean-Claude and me more than the other two. Is it a good sign, or a bad one, that Jean-Claude and I are starting to think alike?
Like it, or not, I’m done for the day. Gotta give it up and start fresh tomorrow. Blast it.

Happy Summer Solstice! Yes, I know that yesterday was officially the beginning of summer, but today actually has about a minute more sunlight, and it’s full moon tonight. A very good and powerful night for positive oriented magic and ritual. I also find that summer solstice is a good time of the year for taking stock of what you’ve accomplished already this year and what you want to do with the rest of the year. The first crops of the year have been gathered for real, and I like to see what “crops” we’ve gathered in our life this year. Goals met, people helped, new projects begun, or finally having decided not to do that new project at all. Sometimes deciding not to do something is as important as deciding to do something. No, is a valid answer, and I think most of our lives would be better if we said no a little more often to all the demands on our time and energies. The light lasts the longest today, the night the shortest. It is traditionally a time of celebration, and great joy. At some deep level we all feel the magic of summer. We’re warm, we have food, and the long hard winter is far away. We feel the need to celebrate, whether it is a vacation, or a cook-out. Whatever your version of celebration is enjoy this the longest day of the year.

First off, happy father’s day to all you dads out there. Having been raised without a father it was never a big deal to me as a child. We’ve done our father’s day lunch with Mary and Art, and now I’m waiting for tea to finish brewing. Trin is with her father. She and Jon celebrated the day on Saturday morning before she left. I grew up without any father, and she has two. Very different.
Jon is off on an errand and I’m going to go up to work when the tea is ready. Must have tea.
I have been fighting with a scene in DANSE MACABRE for about a week, maybe a little less. Okay since Tuesday. It is, of course, a Richard scene. I’ve offered the character every alternative I could think of: a fight, sex, a fight then sex, moral indignation, not so moral indignation. I’ve mapped up and discarded version after version of this one blasted scene. Finally last night just before the lights went down for the movie, the dam burst, and I knew what the scene needed to do. I have been keeping the nose to the grindstone on this scene and it was like beating my head against a brick wall. I tried on Wednesday to not work at it, and let my mind play. That was the afternoon that Trinity and I got our mother-daughter day. Still no break in the scene. So back to the grindstone. I had given up for Saturday. I’d made some notes and they weren’t working. As Jon put earlier in the blog for yesterday we’d decided to go see Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the movie. It was as the lights went down for this that I understood what the character needed out of this scene. It wasn’t necessarily what I, the writer, needed, but Richard can be very stubborn. In many ways he and Anita are well-matched. But can two people this stubborn really survive in a relationship? I don’t know. If they just wouldn’t keep being stubborn about opposing view points we might get somewhere.
No sex for this scene. No big fight even. Richard just needs room to go away and think about things. Okay. I think sometimes I get the subconscious views of my characters. The things that they won’t really do, but they think about. I get to see inside their heads at the things that they think about but know would destroy their lives, and those around them. Or at least cause major problems. Strangely the two scariest heads to see too deeply into are Richard and Asher. Very different reasons but both of them have random impulses that would bring our little relationship arc crashing down. Tea’s done, gotta go.

Took Trinity shopping for father’s day stuff one day last week, and finished up this morning. Her father was picking her up at noon. She got to give her gifts to Jonathon before she left, and went with Gary carrying a wrapped present. I was pleased to get it all done in time. Everyone treats divorce like it’s the end of things, but if you have shared custody of children, it isn’t. Five years after the divorce and I’m still helping pick out father’s day gifts for him. And strangely, between Trin and me I’m pretty sure that he’ll like the gifts. Jon loved his. Everyone thinks that divorces are all about bitterness and hate, but most of the time they’re more about sadness, and just not wanting the same things out of life. I’ve never been happier in my life, but there is a certain poignancy to looking at books on astronomy and space for my ex-husband.

It’s been an emotionally trying day. I won’t go into details because someone out there in cyber space will do something cruel with it. So no details. But it was a hard morning. I was too upset to really work. I managed three pages by lunchtime, but it was like marching through quicksand to get it. So I gave up. Threw in the towel called Grandma Mary, and picked up my kid. Trinity and I had a mother/daughter afternoon. It was good. We went to the tea shop, toy store (father’s day shopping), bookstore (more father’s day shopping). We had a snack at the bookstore, and actually had to leave before we’d finished the holiday shopping to make sure Trin was here to greet her father when he came to pick her up. It was all good. Now if I could just shake this headache.