Holidays are well over now and I’ve been back to work for a week so I guess it’s time to return to semi-regular blogging.

I’m typing this while walking on the treadmill; with some ‘Zon gift cards this year, I ordered a simple standing desk that goes over my small treadmill. There are some things I absolutely need steadiness for, like working in Photoshop, but this is great for answering emails, blogging, newsletter, or doomscrolling twitter with my coffee in the morning.

It’s not fancy, but it works. And of course I overdid it the first day, forgetting that I am woefully out of shape* and also forty.

I was saying to a friend the other day that I know the assumption that people used to live to only forty or fifty is based on skewed data from high infant mortality rates, but also it feels true. Because wow do things get harder in your thirties and then forty is like “I’m laid up in bed for a week because I turned my head too fast and threw my entire back out”. If I could go back in time, I’d tell my younger self…well, a lot of things, but also to stretch more and keep those joints limber. But I also wouldn’t have listened to myself because I didn’t think I’d live this long.

So right now, M W F I’m getting up and clearing off the treadmill as part of the morning routine (covered because cat hair and then double covered because cats pee on things) and hopping on it with my coffee, laptop, and music blaring (this week it’s a lot of Lizzo).

It’s bound to help me sleep, at least, which has been severely lacking. The past three weeks with Shawn have been like having a neonatal bottle baby again–he was getting me up every couple of hours to feed him, and often refused to eat food on its own but insisted on being handfed.

It’s hard to tell with him if he’s not feeling well or if he’s just being a baby, but last week at his recheck they sent him home with more anti-inflammatories because he wasn’t healing as well as he should’ve been. There’s been some talk of stomatitis, which would mean pulling the rest of the teeth (and it took me, like, a year to save up $2000 for December’s surgery–I’m bled dry and spending a small fortune on canned food for him right now means I am tapped the fuck out, although SHOUTOUT TO Nightdreamer again for funding my expensive child’s endless belly yesterday).

But yesterday he got the all clear–he’s doing much better, and doesn’t need another recheck. I’ll be reintroducing dry food next week.

He’s still getting his regular painkiller, though, at least at night, as it’s the only way he lets me sleep.

I’m hoping between keeping the furry child drugged and walking a couple of miles a day will get me better rested, because, again, I cannot function on three hours of sleep anymore. I have too much work to do that requires my brain, and I don’t want clients to suffer (or my bank account) because of this bullshit.

My first mile is done now, so I’ll close this off with happy Friday the Thirteenth. Which is also HAPPY TWO DAYS UNTIL THE LAST OF US.

*Partially my fault, but also partially not–I spent the better part of a year getting hit with intense pain unpredictably that knocked me off the treadmill a few times, and I’ve been trying to rebuild normal habits again like being able to eat raw veggies again and exercise without worry I’m going to vomit from pain. Fun times!

I feel like a slacker compared to last year where I finished three books and wrote three others in six months? But that was kind of an outlier and I was in a very weird position with nothing new scheduled after I’d released Yampellec’s Idol and I was kind of in panic mode. That is no longer the case, as I’ve written ahead enough that I’m good into 2024.

But I did finish three books, which is the rough goal I’m going for now (one book to serialize at Patreon and two to schedule for publication). I also started a whack of others that I may or may not come back to.

Just to update on little Shawn–he had his second dental yesterday and he’s doing quite well today. It was very expensive–I’ve been saving for a year, leftover money from last year’s dental budget and then putting away money ever since (basically any smaller projects like formatting over the past year, you paid for Shawn’s surgery!), and now I’m totally cleaned out (dear god please buy my books*). It was actually two dollars MORE than what I’d spent a year saving.

Here he was flopping around last night:

His appetite was pretty good last night, though he was clearly still very stoned and confused.

For once I slept without chemical intervention, I’d only slept a few hours the night before and I’ve been awake and panicking for weeks with worry. I still woke up frequently to check on him, and he alternated between lying onto of his carrier beside the bed and curling up with me.

Then about half an hour after I fed him this morning, he tried to get me up like usual by meowing, and as you can hear, he’s purring like mad again (as usual).

It’s just about time for his pain meds, so we’ll do that in a few and I’ll get some coffee, and consider what to do for the day (probably clean).

But this is just to update that the little man is doing okay considering how much he just had taken out of him AND at least he’s still got his big iconic fangs, for now.

He’s totally worth the 10-15% of my gross annual income he costs me at the vet every year. 😭😭😭

I hope y’all have a lovely holiday and you’ll probably next hear from me here with a year-end recap (and if you’re on Patreon, you’re getting another Livi Christmas story tomorrow!).

*They’re on sale! 50% off everything at Payhip, coupon code SHAWNSTEETH at checkout! 😭

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I’ve been planning to post that I’m taking a blogging break until January other than a year-end recap and, hopefully, a good update about Shawn’s surgery, but I’ve been putting it off because I’m tired and I have a lot of things to do.

But I find myself particularly heartbroken just now hearing about the passing of Angelo Badalamenti.

It’s been a rough few years for Twin Peaks fans, but this one seems especially dark given Julee Cruise’s death in the summer as well. Music was as much a character in that show as anything else, and now it’s quiet.

I don’t get particularly attached to celebrities and everyone is always incredibly disappointing (my relief at finding Kyle MacLachlan was not a 45 supporter, and mostly posts Dad Jokes on Twitter, is still felt today), but Twin Peaks is so foundational for me that I’m still delighted to see the cast pop up on other things and always a little saddened at their passing.

But the music. The music.

As should be apparent with my Soundtrack Sundays, music is important to me. It’s crucial in the development of stories, and I also used to write a lot of songs when I was a moody teenager–I’m a self-taught (badly) guitar player and self-taught (even worse) on piano. I still fall back on my 90s playlists when house cleaning, or I go back to Tiffany when I’m particularly stressed.

But the Twin Peaks soundtrack was everything to me when I was a kid.

I had chronic insomnia (basically since infancy) and usually listened to music to try to calm my brain and fall asleep. For Christmas, my great-aunt would give her nieces and nephews money to buy the great-nieces and -nephews gifts, so when I was eight, “from” her I was given the Twin Peaks soundtrack in cassette. I still remember my excitement upon opening it the family Christmas party (and one of my older cousins laughing at me, which is also foundational in why it’s extremely hard for me to show excitement/enthusiasm for things now; it makes me feel vulnerable and I avoid it). I remember the little fold-out insert with the full cast, the feel of the plastic in my hands. How I played it over and over, often at night, when I needed to lull my brain into feeling safe so I could sleep. That was where I did my earliest storytelling, in my brain, creating a safe place to sleep and what I still do today. Julee Cruise and Angelo Badalementi were a huge part of giving my brain a safe place to retreat to (both with the Peaks soundtrack and Julee’s Floating Into the Night).

And that music still has that effect today. It instantly brings me to a place of calm–so much so that this is literally a playlist on my phone and it’s nothing but Twin Peaks music:

Because I’m a night person and mornings are rough, “Falling” is set to play instead of a typical alarm–I literally wake to Cruise and Badalamenti every single morning. And lately I’ve had this weight of anxiety in my chest that keeps expanding and pushing against my sternum; it’s Cruise’s ethereal voice and Badalamenti’s composition that dials it back again. (“Audrey’s Prayer” really helps with that, as does “The Nightingale“.)

I am so grateful for this music, and it’s not hyperbole to say it’s probably saved my life on more than one occasion–I know there are so many others in my position. I hope both were aware they impact they had.

It feels extremely strange to be losing these pieces of Twin Peaks just before my new series starts next year; Waverly Jones very obviously has Peaks‘ influence sewn right into her DNA (because I’m still angry about Audrey). Maybe this is how it is, losing the things that were foundational to us as we launch into the world what we hope will be just as important to someone else. Maybe one day some other creator will hear of my death and feel a little heartbroken as they’re about to put their own creation into the world with some of my DNA in it. It’s a bittersweet thought.

Thank you, sir, for bringing that feeling of calm and safety to my childhood–and adulthood.

If you haven’t, please check out this video of the creation behind “Laura Palmer’s Theme”.