I told you I can’t vacation very well.

My birthday was last week, bookended by Shawn emergencies–the first, on the weekend, was an upset stomach, which typically doesn’t seem like a big deal but he gets into everything and I have to constantly monitor him for blockages. We got over that hurdle and then he decided to knock the Scentsy warmer tray and covered himself in melted wax–chest, neck, face, front legs and paws.

The biggest concern with something like that is actually burns, and Scentsy wax has a low melting point so isn’t generally the issue. Then, of course, there was me trying to cut the wax out so he didn’t ingest it all grooming, and subsequently watching for gastro upsets.

So that’s been fun.

There’s also a mattress and boxspring in my living room that I don’t have the energy to arrange pickup and disposal of, and a new bedframe I don’t have the energy to put together and put the new mattress on. My apartment’s a mess, I’ve given up on that adulting, and today I’m back to freelance work.

But I did finish a WIP while I was off and it’s now up for preorder!

The Silent Places is a domestic thriller. Standalone, non-paranormal. It’s still similar to what I usually write–it’s a book about monsters, who we become to survive trauma, and violence against women–and I’m really happy with it. It was one of those books conceived when I was antsy and wanted to read a very specific kind of thing I couldn’t find (running away to the Yukon, murder, etc), and it bloomed fully formed in my head complete with the ending. That doesn’t happen often and I’m excited–and nervous–to get to share it with people at last.

I’ve checked in with my copyeditor’s schedule ahead of my second draft here, and I’m looking at releasing it later in December but the preorder date is February just to have a buffer in case of emergency.

It’s been nearly a year since Imogen Sharp’s husband Nick went missing—and a year of everyone in the Yukon village of Red Fox Lake whispering that she killed him.

With interest in the case rising again as the anniversary of his disappearance approaches, a journalist comes to town and sparks new rumours. Did Nick take his own life without leaving a note? Did he leave of his own volition? Or did his would-be widow have something to do with it as everyone believes?

When the story reaches national news and Imogen’s photo is plastered everywhere, something darker than local rumours comes to her door. Because five years ago Imogen Sharp didn’t exist, and now even the most remote place in Canada can no longer be her refuge.

Preorder: Kindle | Kobo | iBooks

I have a couple of other domestic thrillers I’d like to write–it’s been really good for my brain to switch gears to something completely different–so hopefully this’ll become a new thing I juggle between other projects.

More updates coming with next month’s State of the Union!

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!