I am…on holidays?

My brain isn’t wired for this.

I spent last week starting a big purge, particularly in my bedroom because I’m in dire need of a new mattress and I need space to bring one in. Then I had to shift gears mid-week to more of a surface clean, and I’m expecting some repairs in my unit in the next few weeks that I want to be prepared for. I was exhausted all weekend and got up yesterday morning prepared to work, though I ultimately decided to give myself a few more days before resuming the deep cleaning.

I sat at the laptop and…stared for a while yesterday morning. I was having trouble working on zero drafts so switched to revisions on something else. Did that for my usual work day. Then decided to lie down and watch Golden Girls on Prime (just added, finally!). Which I did for three hours.

Oh my god, there was so much of the day left…?

And with a sudden realization, it occurred to me that…I could read! For pleasure! Between my own work and editing, I very rarely get to just sit and read a book with my brain otherwise shut off from critiquing. So then I read a book.

And it still wasn’t bedtime yet?

I don’t consider myself one of those people who can’t remain idle; I can. I’m very used to being by myself and keeping myself entertained–I don’t need to (and prefer not to) socialize or go out.

But the push of working all the time without more than a weekend in between, and working the kind of job where I’m never really “done” but have projects hanging over me, has wired my brain into something where a few hours into vacation proper I’m like, “Okay, what NOW?”

Which is not to say I’m not grateful to be off work; I am very happy to have a much needed break. I’m back to tackling my room as well, and realistically if I didn’t have this time to jump on some cleaning, it would be months more before I could get a new mattress (and, with a new mattress, I’ll go back to regular insomnia, instead of insomnia-with-constant-joint-and-muscle-pain). The only thing better is if I could vacation in a cabin somewhere with no internet and no people, just utter silence and my laptop.

I have that buzzing anxiety of knowing I need to get some projects done and released; this month is looking to be the worst sales month since I’ve been publishing myself, which I will pay for when I see that money in December. And before you chide me for stressing when everyone should be setting lower expectations on themselves during a pandemic, a reminder that I pay bills with book sales, and my finances will be in serious danger if I go a long period selling nothing. While I’m not berating myself, it’s impossible to not be aware of the precariousness of my situation, and know that I do need to have something out soonish.

That will not be Livi #5. I will update formally in next month’s quarterly state of the union, but it won’t be ready for Nov/Dec as I’d very vaguely hoped. It’s a messy year with a lot going on, the book is huge, and I’m not even on revisions yet. Realistically we’re probably looking at a February or March release.

That leaves me with a couple of zero drafts that aren’t done yet.

I think about how I used to write, the endurance I used to have–my record was 90K words in seventeen days. I don’t have that now; my birthday is in less than a week and I will officially be in my late thirties. I can’t do those long hours without pain now, and I’ve never entirely recovered to where I was six years ago before I got sick. I tell myself part of that is also writing bigger, more complex work, but I do mourn for the time I could work ten to twelve hours a day, write another five or six, sleep a couple of hours (if at all) and do it all over again.

I’d rather write better books than faster books, even if I know it goes contrary to most advice for contemporary writers…but I do wish it didn’t feel so mutually exclusive.

Anyway.

I’ve read three books thus far for vacation time and I seem to be on another thriller/mystery kick.

When No One Is Watching by Alyssa Cole–it was fantastic, my god that woman can write. Also put me on the list for wanting this adapted by Jordan Peele.

One by One by Ruth Ware–there’s this thing where I figure out Ware’s books within the first ten pages, and this one was no exception, but I finished it as I always do because I enjoy her writing.

Dead in Dublin by Catie Murphy–the sequel is out in a couple of weeks, which is great because I am eager for her next Irish cozy mystery. It was very funny and also Catie is a lovely human being; buy her books.

I have hundreds of books to go between iBooks and Kindle, plus some paperbacks, but most are SF/F, which I need a bit of a break from. I’ll check in later this month with the rest of my reads, and if you have any recs (particularly thrillers, domestic or otherwise–I like murder), leave me a comment!

(Don’t be offended if I don’t comment back for a while–I’m very tired after last week and I’m still dredging up the energy to talk to humans again.)

COVID-19 has wreaked havoc on not-for-profits and charities–closure over multiple months has led to a lot of places closing permanently.

I am involved in one such not-for-profit, on the board of directors where we’ve had to carefully consider what we can conceivably do going forward. Our focus is on TNR (trap-neuter-return) to humanely control the feral cat population in a place where there are no animal bylaws governing cats and vacationers see no problem with taking in a kitten for the summer and leaving it behind when they go back to the city.

Although our focus is TNR, we’ve rescued and adopted out friendly cats and kittens when possible, and our efforts are supported by a secondhand shop that doubles as an adoption centre. CCI is also where my beloved Psych Kittens came from last year, and why I have my super special boy Shawn now.

Then COVID-19 and the provincial shutdown.

We have a less than cooperative landlord, volunteers who fit into the demographics most at risk from the virus, and a lot of other struggles right now. So while people in our organization are hard at work trying to keep our doors open, there is an online auction taking place over the next two weeks to support those efforts.

Most items are for pickup in our community, but my two listings are international–I’ll ship anywhere.

Signed Books

The first four novels in the Livi Talbot series, signed by me and personalized as requested. I may be swayed to include bonus items (such as the West prequel novel) is bidding runs high.

Toss your bid in here.

Original Artwork

Shawn fancies himself something of an artist, as you can see. This is an original piece made by him (with minor assistance from me), complete with a signed certificate of authenticity. Again, I will ship internationally!

Bid here.

The auction closes Aug 5 and final payment from the winners must be paid via PayPal or e-transfer. Hop over to get good stuff and support a great cause! Bid now, bid often!

It seems like a million years ago, but there was a time when I used to accidentally write whole-ass books.

River was like that–I wrote the very first (shorter) draft in 2003 over about eleven days. It was supposed to be a short story, and then I couldn’t stop.

I would have very intense creative bursts and write books out of nowhere (Bloodlines, too, had about 90% of it written in three weeks; I also did NaNoWriMo a lot). In 2010 I wrote the first three (of five) books in a dark YA series still sitting on my harddrive.

That sort of came to a stop after I was sick in 2014; although I’m in remission, I don’t have the same endurance I used to have. I’m juggling a lot of freelance work, and now that I have a wider audience, there are certain expectations for what I spend my time writing. That isn’t to say I don’t occasionally accidentally write shorter things, but it’s a lot harder to have that sense of fearlessness to commit to writing a big thing when so many of your bills are paid with writing.

But back in 2009, that was where Soulless came from: I accidentally wrote a novel.

I had various things in progress, then I felt this character on my shoulder. That is usually how it goes, especially writing deep first person–I feel this heavy presence of someone not myself. Sometimes they come in guns blazing like Zara and never stop talking.

But Ani didn’t talk so much as stood there in my head and waited. I felt her isolation, her anxiety; I immediately knew who she was and what she struggled with. I just had to actually start typing to get her story.

It was a quieter sort of “urban” fantasy, in part because it’s actually rural and because Ani is not a typical UF heroine. She’s the sidekick. She’s the secondary character. Not because she doesn’t have a story to tell, but because of her power: she was created to devour souls, and with every soul she takes she loses a little of herself. How do you make someone who struggles to connect with others connect with the reader?

I never really found an answer to that question. I struggle to connect with people as well–how to act, what to say, balancing interpreting social cues with what I think expectations are–and I haven’t the benefit of any supernatural reason for it, just regular old anxiety. And I don’t think I’m the only one.

Though I started her second book, I ended up indefinitely setting it aside as I felt like Ani’s story was told enough in Soulless. Because it’s standalone, it’s sort of sat there peripherally, other than when I used it as a fundraiser book for vet bills several years ago, occasionally checked out by readers of my other series. But it’s always had a special place in my heart and I’m always pleased when someone finds their way to it, which is why I’m so thrilled to have it as part of StoryBundle’s Crossing the Veil collection.

For another week you can get Soulless and several other books for any price–you decide what the books are worth, and the breakdown of money for authors, StoryBundle, and can offer 10% to the charities we’re supporting.

More from Rhonda Parrish, curator of the bundle:

A woman grudgingly helping a ghost move on to the other side (so he’ll leave her alone)? Check.

A soul-devouring protagonist who has her life turned upside down by a harpy attack? Check.

Characters walking between worlds as casually as you and I cross the street? Check.

A snarky Newfoundland heroine dealing with an undead infestation in her hometown? Check (x3!)

A leucostic magpie with a lot of personality? Check.

There’s so much more. If, like me, you’re drawn to the stories about passing through the veil between worlds, or shepherding souls through it, this bundle is not one you’ll want to miss. And best of all, because it’s on StoryBundle, you get to set the price you want to pay.

Anais Peake was created to devour the souls of otherwise unkillable monsters, but with every soul she eats, she loses a little of her own. She’s been in retirement for eighteen months when her monster hunting best friend shows up one winter night needing help, and so Ani temporarily returns to a life she tried hard to escape.

Their plans go awry on a deserted highway when a harpy attacks and Ani’s friend is killed. Ani is pulled out of the role of sidekick and thrust into the uncomfortable shoes of heroine in a mystery involving both human and otherworldly monsters, with only her neighbour/cat babysitter, an old friend still suffering grief and anger, and an empath funeral director for help to solve her friend’s murder.

But fate has patiently been waiting: Ani was created with a purpose in mind and retirement or not, she has to face what she is and what she’s capable of.

Even if her soul doesn’t survive it.

The countdown is on–seven days left to get this amazing collection! Lots of pandemic reading while you’re in lockdown!