Author: Jonathon

Just a quick note to say Hi! and let everyone know about our current auction for Granite City APA! I know, we haven’t had one in a bit and this one is special.
It is at eBay so you may have to sign up before you can bid.
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=4525572047
Ends Feb-11-05
Laurell K. Hamilton Fan Club Pet Charity Auction We have a very unusual item: a dust jacket. This dust jacket has the original cover copy for Stroke Of Midnight – Merry Gentry #4. The cover copy has since changed. So we are offering one of them up for auction! Very unique item and Laurell has signed it! All monies generated will go to Granite City APA (www.apagc.com) for their wonderful animal shelter. We ask that the winning bidder make their check or money order out to Granite City APA. But we will accept Paypal. This can be worked out with the high bidder. The fan club will pick up the costs of postage. Priority Mail in the US. Whatever is most reasonable for International.
Darla

My grandmother had a saying, “No rest for the wicked, and the righteous don’t need it.” It was one of her favorite sayings. Along with, “I’ll give you something to cry about.” Anyway, the no rest part is prompted by the e-mail I got today. The rewrites will be back in two weeks, but that’s not my complaint. My complaint is they aren’t coming back next week. I need this book to be well and truly dead, not looming into the horizon. I don’t know about the rest of you but I can’t go on my mini-vacation until the project is done. The long weekend is, for me, a cleansing away of the old, and a preparing my mind for the new. The new being the next Anita book. A STROKE OF MIDNIGHT missed it’s original deadline, so that means that Anita book 13 is probably going to miss it’s deadline, too. It’s like dominos, one falls, and they all start falling. So I need this book done so I can start clearing the deck for the next one. I just want it done, so I can relax, instead of waiting tensed. It’s the difference between the war being over, and only the battle being over when you know that there is still more ground to be won, more enemies to be defeated, more dangers to be lived through. I need to drive a stake through this one’s heart and move on.
I did finally realize that maybe there was more than one reason for A STROKE OF MIDNIGHT to be harder to write. It’s the fourth book in a series. I know I’ve written somewhere in here that when my daughter was a small baby I was exhausted, and I was, but I also wrote THE LUNATIC CAFE, as the first book back in the saddle after Trinity was born. LUNATIC is the fourth Anita book. I remember feeling that LUNATIC was one of the best of the books so far, and that I really knew the world and the characters, at last. But I think, maybe, that baby exhaustion mixed with another kind of exhaustion. Fourth book exhaustion.
For Merry and her gang, this was the first book where I cried for them. I cried when Galen got hurt. I cried when Doyle finally found something that made that calm captain-of-the-guard exterior crack wide open. I wept with and for these people, which I had not done before. For me, it’s as if the fourth book in a series is when I finally give myself up to the world. It’s like the first three books are foreplay, or dating, and somewhere in the fourth book, kicking and screaming that I don’t feel that way about any of them, I finally give it up. I finally, for better or worse, fall in love. Not with a male character. So many of you keep asking who are my favorites, who would I date. That’s not quite how I feel about any of them. I am, in some way, in love with most of the characters. For me, I have to be a little in love, to write about them the way I do. Not the sex, I mean the caring. To care about them the way that I eventually do, I need to be in love with not one character, but all of them. Or most of them. The continuing characters become like old friends, or steady dates, people you know and love, and enjoy spending time with. It’s been a decade since I began the Anita series, longer maybe, so I had forgotten the rhythm of a series. Or it had gotten all mixed up with the new baby exhaustion. Both, I guess.
The fourth book is the place where the lady doth stop protesting too much. The place where I finally cuddle down between the sheets and admit that I love them all, and I want to keep them safe, and that the thought that eventually, for Merry, we are going to loose someone we care about . . . I cannot bear it. I struggled with my cast of thousands in MIDNIGHT, and complained loud and long that there were too many men. We’ve actually added some new ones, again. It is a lot of characters to try and play fair with, but there is no one that I want to loose. There is no one that I am willing to sacrifice to make my job easier. They have, in a way, become real to me. I have shed tears for them. I have feared for them. I have watched them grow as characters, and Merry and I both are sorry that all of them can’t win the prize. When you care about someone, you want them to be happy. I realize now that not everyone is going to get a happy ending from all this, simply because there is only one girl, and far too many men. They can’t all be king. They can’t all win her heart and her bed. Sigh.
And please don’t ask me who will win and be king, because I don’t know. I’ve told people before that I don’t know, but please believe me, I really don’t. I know the overall story arc, but some mysteries I do not try and predict. Anita has taught me that if I push too hard for any one man romantically the story is almost certainly going to diverge and go in an opposite direction. So I try not to push. As I writer I need to be fair to all the men, so again, it behooves me not to pick anyone. Besides, it’s Merry’s bed, and she’s got to sleep in it. I’m going now, call New York see if I can get this rewrite process speeded up.

I did get my bath, but beyond that it has not been a relaxing few days. The stomach flu hit. It got Jon first, then about three A. M. Trinity knocked on our door, and I knew. Let’s just say that there was no sleep that night, and that I got to mop the bathroom floor. I put Jon on one side of me and Trin on the other, and just kept running first one then the other in and out. It was one of those moments when I was just thankful that I hadn’t gotten it. So thankful. I don’t know what we would have done if we’d all had it. Who would have taken care of us? Jon, later, said, “We would have called my parents.” I said, “No, no we wouldn’t,” because it just wouldn’t have occurred to me to call for help at nearly four in the morning for the flu. It turns out that even if we had needed help that badly it wouldn’t have been helpful, because Mary and Art had it, too. Which means sometime while we were all out having a celebratory lunch, about finishing the book, we were all exposed to the virus. I had a very mild upset tummy earlier in the day, the rest of them worshipped the porcelain god for a couple of days. I got off very lucky.
Sometime around 4 A. M. of that first morning my comings and goings for mop buckets and garbage bags woke the dogs. If I didn’t get them out I’d have dog crates to clean on top of everything else so there I was, cold winter dark before dawn, in my jammies, my robe, a winter coat over it all, and hiking boots on my feet, waiting for the dogs to do their business. People ask me why doesn’t all the fame go to my head, well . . . Family, small child, dogs, it’ll all keep you humble, as in down to earth. How can I possibly buy my own hype when I’m out in the cold and the dark in jammies and boots with four dogs, waiting for them to find the perfect spot in the yard. Straining my ears, as if I could possibly hear if my husband and daughter are being sick again. Real life, it keeps things in perspective.
For all of you fans that keep wanting my life to be more like what I write, well, sorry, if you don’t want the truth, you gotta let me know.

“Ding, dong the witch is dead.” The book is done. I think that says it all. My new goal in life is a hot bath, a lavender scented candle, a book that I didn’t have to write, and some music that I haven’t lived with for the last few months. “Drink up me’ hearties, yo-ho!” Oh, yeah, a movie outside the house that isn’t “G” rated.

There is no joy in Mudville, Mighty Casey has struck out. If you don’t know the poem, look it up. Tired, so tired I can’t see straight. The first time I ever remember being this tired was when Trinity was only a few weeks, or months old, I know under three months. Back when she slept maybe three, four hours at a time, and one of us had to get up with her. Thank God I didn’t breast feed so my first husband and I were able to divide the baby care more evenly. Oh, and any men out there bragging that they never had to change a diaper on their own kids, you are all wimps. I’ve been threatened with a gun, been in martial arts, had my leg broken in two places and cracked in another along with a second degree burn, and none of it was as unrelentingly hard as caring for a small baby. Nothing has ever been that grueling before or since, but this book is close.
All you parents out there remember going to movies where when the lights went down you couldn’t remember what movie you’d come to see. You were just so happy to be out of the house and being able to behave like a grown-up that it didn’t really matter what movie it was. You had a few hours of precious freedom; if you could stay awake. The last two times Jonathon and I went out to a movie, I couldn’t remember what we’d decided to see, that should have been a hint. But sometimes I’m slow, or is that stubborn?
This book is whipping my ass, and not in a fun way. If I push myself this weekend, and I mean push, then maybe, just maybe, I can be done by Monday. Trinity is with us this weekend, so that makes it harder. One, I’d like to see her. Two, she’s just not an entirely self-entertaining child. Jonathon will do his best, but Trinity has always been a mommy’s girl.
And let me just say that I know I’m making Jonathon’s life hard. I’m never a low maintence person, though a lot of my high maintence is closer to a high maintence man than a high maintence woman. But either way, it’s not always easy to live with. I am aware of that. Jonathon earned his paycheck and his couple browning points this last weekend. I wrote ten pages long hand, but I was simply unable to compose on the computer. Writing that much by hand hurt my arm, of course. But what else am I to do? Jonathon, bless his heart, sat with me in the dining room, just to keep me company. Like needing a friend to go with you into the lion’s den.
Why is this book so hard? Well, one thing is that I’ve spent four books trying to write Merry as if her series is structured like Anita’s series, and it isn’t. Merry is pieces of a whole. Her story was never conceived to be whole and complete each book, but every book I try to pound her into a kind of book I’m used to writing. Four books in the characters are more alive than ever, and the world, but the pace and structure of the books is still giving me fits. I now know not to set myself the task of a series where I know what’s going to happen all the way down the road. I write, in a great part, to find out what happens next. I write so I can read it. If I already know what’s going to happen, all of it, or ninety percent of it, then all that’s left for me as a reader is make sure the writing is the best writing it can be. As a writer that is much less satisfying to me than writing as fast as I can to try and catch up with my muse. So I’ve learned something about myself as a writer, but I’ve learned it a little late. I am committed to Merry and her story, and I am committed to the over all story arc. If Merry, or I, could figure out a way to live happily ever after and not be Queen of fairie, we’d take it. But even if she was willing to give the court over to Cel, he’d never rest easy while she was alive. Look at real human history. A legitimate, or even partly legitimate contender for a throne, that could be used as a rallying point against the king or queen had a short life expectancy. It’s just bad politics to leave your rival alive. Cel has a lot of faults, being that careless is not one of them.
I’m going back to work now. Merry’s starting to write better at night. Maybe, Darla’s right, by night fall I’m so tired that I can get out of my own way better.

Still not completely well, mainly because the deadline is here, like right here, and the book is not done. So instead of resting I’m working, and thus not getting completely well. Better, but not well. We visited a friend in the hospital yesterday. She’s going to be fine, but she needed the cheer up visit. Funny how real life interferes with everything isn’t it. Though frankly, it doesn’t feel all that funny right now. Trinity’s cold is almost completely gone. So it looks like we’re all on the mend. I’m going to run away now and try and beat the current scene into submission. At least we’re doing a politics, negotiation, and magic scene, those are easier than other scenes when you’re not feeling your best. Bye for now.

There has been some down time with the servers of late. They seem to be up a running now, but I’m still watching them like a hawk. Hopefully nothing more will happen to make my job “interesting” of a while.
later

I’ve been running the ship all by my self for the past week or so, and I thought I should let everyone know.
Laurell has been sick with a sinus infection for a week or so. Darla has been out sick for the past week too. And now the Kiddo is sick as well.
Dear God, that leaves me in charge….
If you get the reference in the title, cool. If you don’t. You need to watch a recent pirate movie.
later

Not a hundred percent yet, but I was able to go back to work today. Yeah. The book was going pretty well, then a week off. Like going from a marathon pace to crawling. I got out not only the Christmas music, but THE VEGGIE TALES CHRISTMAS ALBUM. My big guns for any Merry book when my spirit, or body flags. For all of you that didn’t know that Veggie Tales were my ultimate Christmas music for a Merry book, well, sorry for the shock. Because most people are very surprised that I could possibly listen to this, while writing that.
I was very tired when I started this afternoon. I so did not feel like working, but after listening to two and a half times through of vegetables singing Christmas carols, well, I had my five pages, and a little over. I feel good enough that I could push myself and get a little more, but pushing myself is how I stayed sick for a week. I’m going to try and be content with what I have and let my body rest. I do not want another relapse. Especially, because I pushed it. That would just piss me off. So have a very Veggie Christmas. I know it’s over the year; even Twelfth Night is past, but with snow on the ground and discouragement in the heart it’s always time for a little Christmas.

I’m putting something up tonight so you guys won’t think I’ve dropped off the face of the earth. I managed to catch one of the many bugs going around this time of year. I’m feeling better but it’s taken a few days. I’d have felt better earlier, but I pushed it and tried to do too much as soon as I felt better. Typical me, you’d think I’d learn.
Any way, we’re getting ready to go to bed. Yes, at nine. We’ve started trying to go to bed when the kiddo goes to bed. One, during the week we have to get up as early as she does. Two, once the bedroom door is closed Jonathon and I get to have grown-up alone time. Yes, this does mean sex sometimes, but not always. Honest. By not letting ourselves get trapped into watching television after the kiddo is in bed (let’s face it most television if we never see it, we don’t really miss it, do we?) we get to talk, without interruption. All you parents with younger kids know what I mean. Sometimes Jonathon and I just take turns reading to eachother from the current book that we’re reading. Just alone time, the two of us, without the day biting at us. No work, no kids, no phonecalls, just us. Now, admittedly, there are nights when we stay up and watch a non-Trinity safe video, and there are two shows we TIVO, and watch later. Too late to stay up, and neither is Trinity safe. Fine, CSI, and House. There might be other goods ones out there, but we’d rather have our alone time than get hooked on something else.
We’re gong to bed now. Bye.