New Release!

 

Yep, you read that right. I have written a new novella, full of hot, hot, hot romance and featuring two wonderful characters who are finding their true love -- even if it does come a little later in life.

I know, I know. I said a few years back that Diana was done writing erotic romance. While it's true, I've been focusing on my epic fantasy (which is finished and has a title now! Threads of Earth and Sky, The Companion series, Volume I), sometimes one needs a little spicy romance to keep one's blood flowing.

So let me introduce you to Mary Elizabeth Flynn and Scott Henderson. Here's the blurb:

At sixty years old, Mary Elizabeth Flynn (Maisy to her friends) isn’t looking for romance.  The deep blue of the Mediterranean Sea, the coastline of Italy slipping by...what a wonderful, carefree way to spend a cruise. Maisy is grateful her friends talked her into joining them, especially when she meets Scott Henderson, tall, graying, and definitely handsome. Who is she to say no to a little shipboard romance?

ROMANTIC SEAS is now available for pre-order at Amazon and Smashwords (which has every format available, no matter what your ereader).

You want more? Oh, okay. Read on for a short excerpt:

Excerpt from Romantic Seas
by Diana Hunter
All Rights Reserved

Maisy’s thoughts warred with her libido as the two made their way to the Promenade. Was it only this afternoon she’d walked around this deck ten times? Now she took a leisurely stroll, her arm linked with a tall, handsome…Dom.

He’d used the word “Top,” but she didn’t think there was much more than a semantic difference between a Dom and a Top. She knew “Master” wasn’t the same—that title implied ownership. She’d read enough erotic romances to know what was what in that regard.

But reading and fantasizing were two vastly different beasts. She’d not been entirely truthful when she said she had the “occasional fantasy”—more like it was her only fantasy. One she’d never confessed to anyone. Not Peg, not Trish, not even the rare date she’d had while taking care of her parents. And certainly not to Tom. It was her secret, and hers alone.

And then Scott calmly shows her a picture of his wife and treats bondage as if it’s normal.

Well, perhaps it is for him, she thought, her gaze on the lights of a faraway ship. Not normal for me. Exciting…alluring…enticing, yes. Normal? Not even a little bit.

“You’re awfully quiet.” His voice interrupted her reverie. “If being tied up isn’t your thing, it’s okay. I still like you and would like to have you as a friend.”

“Oh, no, that’s not it. I like you, too.” She gathered her thoughts and pushed her libido to the side for a moment. “I’m just…It’s that…well, I don’t have any experience in the matter and I have no idea if I’ll actually like it, or if I’ll freak out, or what.”

“Would you be open to an experiment?”

“What kind of experiment?”

He didn’t answer, but pulled her close. With no preamble, he bent down and kissed her.

Her libido rushed to the fore once more as her knees grew weak and her arms went around his neck of their own volition. A whimper formed in the back of her throat, sighing out despite her attempt to stop it.

He deepened the kiss as his hand cradled her head, his fist tightening in her hair as his tongue touched her lips, seeking entrance. She opened for him, giving him reign.

His tongue touched hers and she slammed her knees straight lest they buckle, as her mind filled with thoughts of being controlled by the power he exercised. Gently, he moved her head, using her own hair to guide her mouth so he could take full possession.

He didn’t stay nearly long enough, however, breaking the kiss, dropping her hair, and stepping back to give her space, only keeping a single arm around her waist. She wanted to protest the sudden cool air that rushed between them on what, previously, she’d thought of as a warm Mediterranean night. But after the heat he’d created in her? The night was positively chilly and she gave a little shiver.

“Are you cold?”

“After that? A volcano is icy.”

Her voice had dropped in pitch and she had to give herself a shake to keep her limbs from going all languid on her.

“So what do you think? I controlled only two parts of you—were you okay with that?”

“Oh, yeah,” she sighed, babbling. “I mean…yes. That was okay.”

The outdoor lighting cast a shadow on his face, but she thought he smiled.

“No freaking out?”

Her voice firmer this time, she stood up straight. His arm dropped from her waist and, while she missed the contact, part of her was glad of it. She might be able to do this in only small doses. “No freaking out.”

Remember: ROMANTIC SEAS is now available for pre-order at Amazon and Smashwords (which has every format available, no matter what your ereader). Order now and avoid the rush!

OH! And once you have it in your hands and have devoured it, please return to the site where you purchased it and leave a review. We self-pubbed authors need them to be seen by others.

Play safe,

Diana

Reading, Writing, and...Weaving?

I spent the early part of January writing a decent synopsis for The Companion, sent it off to David Farland, who promptly had a stroke and passed away two days after I sent it. I'm pretty sure my manuscript wasn't the cause, but writers lost a good friend when he died. May he rest in peace.

Of course, I did what I always do when Death enters my life, even so obliquely: I read books. The two Nora Roberts books I'd read early in the month, the remaining six I dived into. I'll post the list below.

The loom set up
in my study

Long-time readers know I'm also a weaver, although I haven't had the loom out in over six years. More personal deaths and assorted events have taken up my time -- along with finishing a certain epic fantasy (I'm looking at you, Companion!). But there's been a project nagging at me for a while and I finally decided it was time. Got it set up, dressed it, and have been weaving a table runner for the sitting room. Wanted something for the spring. Something bright and cheery.

(If you look closely, you'll see my TBR shelves in the back. Yes, shelves. Four of them. Shelves, not books.)

Jewel II pattern showing

For those of you who are also weavers: I'm using a 100% cotton thread (so this will shrink) with a 15-dent reed. The pattern is called "Jewel II" and is from Margaret Porter Davison's book A Handweavers Pattern Book. This was first printed in 1944 and contains hundreds of wonderful patterns for a 4-harness loom. 

This is a modified twill and does not use a tabby (one of the reasons I like it. Complicated treadling pattern already!)

And yes, I am still writing -- working on Volume II of The Companion. Playing around with actual titles (The Companion is my working title, not the definitive one) and will announce those when I finalize them.

Back in 2018, my hubby got me a book of writing prompts for Christmas. I started, as a 2019 New Year's Resolution, to take one each day and write from not only my personal perspective, but also from my protagonist's perspective. Basically interviewing my characters to see how they feel about things.

That lasted only a few days. Then my mom had a stroke and died two days later. I put it away in the crush of events (see above -- also put the loom away shortly thereafter as room was needed for other living) and pretty much forgot about it.

Well, I pulled it out when my characters stopped talking to me this month and have been writing nearly every day. There are two "new" characters in this volume (introduced in Volume I, play a bigger role in Volume II) and it's helped me to get to know them better. Planning to get to work on the actual story soon.

All right! My reading list for January! Short, only seven books long.

The Awakening and The Becoming by Nora Roberts (fantasy with some romantic elements; 1st two books in a three-part series. Looking forward to the next one!)

The Glass Ocean and Band of Sisters -- the first is an anthology of three authors, but Lauren Willig is one of them and she wrote Band of Sisters.

Sabriel, Lirael, and Abhorsen by Garth Nix (fantasy)

The first four are keepers -- they've already found room on my shelves. The Nix books I'm passing on to my daughter. I've read him before and enjoyed his work, but these just didn't pull me in as well. Might be my own frame of mind, though.

So that's my month, spent reading some, writing some and weaving some!

Play safe!

Diana

The Dreaded Synopsis

When writing my erotic romances, I don't start with a synopsis, I just write. Mostly I start at the beginning, work through the middle, and find the Happily Ever After. Why? Because if I write the synopsis, I'm no longer interested in writing the story. I know what happens and the sense of discovery is gone.

With The Companion my approach was slightly different. I'd started it several times and couldn't find it's opening scene. Out of desperation, I wrote a single-spaced, two-page synopsis to give the story some shape. I then knew where to begin and to be honest, after writing that synopsis? I never looked at it again. While I knew my ending, the events that take place to get there came out of that wonderful sense of creative discovery as I wrote. The novel also ended up being much longer than expected, as I realized taking the short way I'd written in the synopsis didn't allow for any character development.

But The Companion is finished and now looking for a publisher. When I received an email from an editor stating what he's looking for in his next book to acquire, I realized I have his perfect novel. I just have to convince him of it. He wants a 2-3 page synopsis and I'm thinking, "Hey! I have that!"

So I pull out that long-ago written treatment--and discover what I wrote then and what I ended up with are very different. I need a new synopsis.

Three days later, I'm still trying to write it.

I'm coming close, but wow. I gave up my first attempt after I got to six pages and still was only on Kiera's story. Checked the editor's email again and realize he's included a link to an article he'd written on what a good synopsis should contain. For an epic fantasy, he said in the article, one should expect a longer synopsis -- up to 20 pages! Yay!

I open a new document and start breaking the story down the way it's actually written. Each book of the larger work contains three to five chapters, so I can't stick with the usual formula of summarizing each chapter into a paragraph and still remain in my page limit. So I summarize each book and get it to fifteen pages. I'm good.

Then I re-read the email and he really does seem to be expecting two to three pages. A MUCH shorter synopsis.

Sigh.

By this time, I've been writing a full eight hours and my fingers are tired. I put it away for the night and start again the next morning on a new, shorter, synopsis.

And I manage to tell the entire story in three and a half pages. There's no emotional content, it's just a "she did this and then he did that and then they did this other darn thing" sort of telling and it's dry as a bone and totally lifeless. Augh!

By now I have drafted my husband into reading through these pieces and comparing them to the request in the email and getting his feedback. He teaches Public Speaking at the college level and approaches the query letter (which I've also been trying to write) with the same approach he takes to the opening of a speech. He tells me I haven't grabbed my audience yet and I start rewriting that as well.

If you're keeping count, by the end of Day Two, I now have several discarded drafts of a short synopsis, one long one that still needs work, and a query letter that *almost* works.

Day Three dawns and it's time to take down Christmas decorations. I do laundry, take ornaments off the tree, take my brother to a doctor's appointment -- pretty much anything other than face the work I still need to do. But its in the back of my head the entire time, nagging away at me. I finally go up to my study, open the crappy, "this is what they do" synopsis and add in the emotional arc. I move from three pages to six and realize, this is just the way it has to be.

Why? Because I'm really telling not one, but TWO stories here. Martin and Kiera's stories are intertwined and told in parallel throughout the epic. I have it to three pages of synopsis for EACH story. With any luck, the editor will understand that. I hope he will!

So the query letter is written, the short synopsis ("short" being a relative term) is complete, the longer synopsis will be finalized today. I'm sending both versions and he can decide if he wants more information or not. Seems prudent to attach both files--and yes, I've explained my reasoning in the query letter -- which is also too long, but he wants specific information and I've provided it. Remember, the point of the query letter is to get him to open a synopsis and the point of the synopsis is to get him to open the first chapter and the point of the first chapter is to get him to want more -- and to buy my book!

And, of course, this is only Volume One. Trying to sleep in this morning, my brain kicked into gear with what happens next and started writing the synopsis for the NEXT book. I'll actually type that out later today, but expect that, when I finish writing Volume Two, I'll be back here again, rewriting it and fussing once more.

All right. Enough procrastinating. I'm off to make a final read-through of what's going out to the editor before I actually push "Send." Wish me luck!

Play safe,

Diana

Catching up in the New Year -- Come on, 2022!

 

Missing some photos for my montage,
but here's our tradition!

   New year, new beginnings, new resolutions.

   Putting the old year to bed, settling accounts, and  looking back, however, needs to happen first. To that end...

   I did a great job keeping track of the books I read this year -- right through September, as per usual. In October, however, my reading came to an abrupt halt. Why? I had lines to learn! I went back on stage for the first time in thirty-one years.

   Understand, my undergraduate degree is in Theatre Arts. My husband and I owned a theatre company for eight years. I did my share of directing both community and high school theatre. I played many parts on stage, from chorus girl to lead.

And then I had kids.

Don't mistake me. I know many women who have kids and stay active in the theatre. It wasn't for me. Working a full-time teaching job (which I defy anyone to say is a 40-hour a week job!) left me with precious little time to spend with my babies. Something had to give - and it was the theatre. I became the audience (a much-needed part of the whole!) and left treading the boards to others.

My kids are grown now (my daughter is 30! When did I blink?) and the opportunity arose for me to take on a major role in a world premiere of Just Like Sisters, a play by Jay Hannigan. I played the role of Jolie, the more comedic of the three female parts -- and loved it. I had more fun (and anxiety -- not having used my memory muscle in thirty years meant some scary "what's my next line?" moments!) than I thought I would and am thankful for the opportunity to reconnect with a love of my youth.

But learning lines (I had a third of all the lines in the play) takes work (see "anxiety" above) and that left little time for reading. We started rehearsals at the beginning of October and the show went up the weekend before Thanksgiving. I managed to read the newspaper and some online news stories and that was about it.

December, however, brought a different story. The show was done, I had arthroscopic knee surgery on November 30th for a torn meniscus, which meant a lot of time sitting on my rump and healing. To that end, I read three books before Christmas!

My hubby came to me at one point in November and said, "I know you'd be happy with no other Christmas presents than books. Which ones are on your want list?" Can you see why I love him so much? I gave him a list of authors and books and figured he'd get me two or three. He got me twelve! Twelve!!!!

I've read two of them so far -- and am trying to take my time and not read so fast. I devour books, and am thinking maybe taking a little more time with each might be better for me.

Yeah, who am I kidding? I'll continue to devour, re-reading the ones I like the most, passing on the ones not worthy of my shelf space.

So what did I read?

Go Tell the Bees that I am Gone (Diana Gabaldon) - this is a definite keeper and will be re-read many times.

Dear Santa and Christmas in Alaska (Debbie Macomber) - how could I resist that second title when I spent a month there this year? Both have been passed on already.

The Awakening and The Becoming (Nora Roberts) - the first two in her new fantasy series. Brand new - first edition hard covers my hubby got me for Christmas. I'm liking the series and will keep these. Yes, that meant I had to remove two books from my shelves to be passed on (sorry, The Color Purple (Alice Walker) and The Chocolate War (Robert Cormier) -- time to find new homes!).

All told, I recorded reading 56 books in 2021. That's fewer than usual - mostly because 1) I finished writing my own big book (The Companion, Part I is done!) and 2) I was in a play. :)

So that's my look back. Looking forward, I'll keep a record of what I read this year (my resolution) and write more books (my new beginnings).

Happy New Year!

It's done! ~0r~ How I Wrote An Epic Fantasy

The history:

I first started The Companion over twenty-five years ago when I envisioned two groups of people: Earth Mothers and Sky Fathers and a specific conflict between them. It was 1995 and I wrote the first draft of the first chapter, starting the story when the protagonists were Chosen and sent for training. Five years of training, I figured, five books, one for each year of school.

Then J.K.Rowling published Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Different system, different world, same structure. Not wanting to be a copycat even in that, I set it aside, starting the story in different places over the years, unable to find the right hook for the first chapter. I even pitched it to an Avon editor in 2004, who liked the idea (at that time, the school scenes were going to be flashbacks) and who asked for the first three chapters and a synopsis. 

Yeah, she didn't buy it and she was right to do so. That opening still wasn't right.

In the meantime, Ellora's Cave found me and I found erotic romance as a genre. I published story after story, as many as six in a year (usually one or two full-length novels, two or three novellas and a Quickie or two). Pushing the envelope was fun and I honed my writing ability with the help of my EC editor while periodically coming back to the story I really wanted to tell: The Companion.

Eureka! Or not...

Somewhere in the late 2000's I found the opening. Even as I wrote it, I could feel inside that, at last, THIS was the way the story should start. Drop the whole school thing and concentrate on the protagonist's work out in the field. Literal fields. As in bringing health (the Earth Mothers) and rain (the Sky Fathers) to the farmers.

But world-building is hard. There are all sorts of items to consider: what kind of money do they have? What does the government look like? Who lives in what part of the land? I had to draw a map and figure distances so I knew how long it took to travel from Point A to Point B - and how those times changed whether on horseback or walking. I had to figure out the rules that governed the world, and how the conflict had interfered with those rules. A thousand little details that often kept me up at night until I'd rise and write them down so I wouldn't forget.

I started a story "bible" in a notebook filled with these details - it's the only thing that's kept me sane throughout twenty-five years of working on this behemoth. Because that's what it became. The deeper I got into the real story, the more I realized this was a Big Book. Think Diana Gabaldon big. Or Brandon Sanderson big. It's complicated, it's (hopefully) compelling, and it takes time to tell right.

...and....full stop.

I'd gotten to around 147,000 words -- already a large book by industry standards -- and got stuck. Real life kept getting in the way. There were so many details to be kept in my head as I wrote that I needed time to push the real world away so I could live in my fantasy world. Only then could I get momentum. A day here and there just wasn't cutting it.

The story languished, in part because of time, but also because of that darn structure. I'd decided now on a three book structure: Book 1 told one protagonist's point of view, Book 2 told the other protagonist's point of view, and Book 3 would tell the world's point of view.

And then I realized I was really telling the same story three times. I tried dovetailing the two protagonists's stories, telling a few chapters of one and the a few of the other. But my confidence shook like a poplar tree's leaves in a storm. I stopped writing entirely.

Enter Storyknife

Getting the residency there saved my sanity -- and The Companion. I wrote over 47,000 words in my month there and that gave me the momentum I needed. Carrying that seclusion with me when I came home from Alaska wasn't easy, but thank the Good Lord above I have a wonderful husband who understand creative needs. He gave me most of July, staying out of my way as I eased myself back into twenty-first century American life.

August, however, crashed through my momentum, with tasks that pulled me out of my book-world almost every day. I despaired. I was close. SO close to the end I could see it on the horizon. Yet doctor's visits, responsibilities, life in general, all conspired against my writing time and I knew I had to take drastic measures.

On September 4th, I went to the cabin -- with its iffy electricity and uncertain heat. We had a cold spell, but that's what sweatshirts are for. I wrote. The weather warmed up, the electricity remained iffy. I'd write and charge during the day (we have solar panels on our roof), but not use any electricity at night. I saved often and spent too much time alone.

Sidenote: I have discovered that, while I'm still mostly an introvert, I do like having people nearby. Those Storyknife dinners were exactly the right amount of social interaction I needed to keep my sanity, but not intrusive enough to pull me out of my book-world. The cabin is too isolated - with only me to keep myself company.

Yay!

But, on September 16, 2021, I wrote the last chapter of The Companion. Coming in at 247,000 words, it tells half the story I want to tell. Yes, that means there will be another book. Or two. There are a few side characters standing at the door, knocking and wanting to have their say.

So I say it's done, but that's a relative term to a writer. I have a few beta readers who are going through it, looking at it with fresh eyes and finding some holes here and there. So far, easily fixed, but I need their objective eyes to see what I can't. I'm looking for an agent now (one letter off, more to go on Monday) and expect another read will bring to light more edits. Yes, I'm going traditional publishing with this book. It has maps!

But the draft is done.

And yes, the next book is begun. I have pages of notes detailing what needs to be included, and have so far written 1818 words. Four digits. It's a start. And do I know yet if I've started in the right place? 

Nope. Not a clue.

And I have an erotic romance just begging to be finished, and a young-adult historical fiction that wants attention, and....and...and. I just may take the time to finish the one, polish the other, and get those published while finding a home for The Companion. And then I'll carve myself another few weeks and enter the book-world again, telling the stories of the further adventures of a certain set of protagonists.

Play safe!

Diana/Cindy

(remember, you can find me on Facebook as Diana Hunter or as Cindy Duprey)

I'm baaack! And I read books. And I wrote, too!

     If you're a long-time reader of my blog, you know the past several months have been...hectic. In April my Dad went into hospice and I spent every day with him. I read several books as he napped, but never posted the list here (but have below!). He passed away at the end of April and I spent May cleaning his apartment, nursing my husband through a partial knee replacement, and getting ready to go to Storyknife in Homer, Alaska. I managed only two books that month (both short!) because time was scheduled to the second.

Moonset following closely upon sunset
over Mount Illiamna 
Storyknife
Homer, Alaska

     June I spent in Alaska - and loved every minute of it. While most of my time was spent writing (a total of 47,000+ new words on The Companion, my epic fantasy), I spent several of my evenings curled up with the most wonderful view of volcanoes and a good book, mostly ebooks, since they take up no additional room in my suitcase.

     July has been a mixed month. I've spent a great deal of it riding my Storyknife high (wrote another 37,000+ words on the same fantasy - I did say it was an epic!) and the rest of it picking up the pieces that fell off my plate in May. I've rediscovered my One True Love (aka: my husband) after 40 years of marriage and a full month apart (our longest time away from each other since the day we said, "I does."). 

The 70's wallboard
on the hall walls that 
needs to go!

Together we decided it was time the house got an upgrade, so my study has gotten new shades (thank you, Storyknife for showing me what kind I wanted!), and will soon have a brand-new wall-to-wall carpet. The previous owners of our 1890's house put in very good carpet in the 1970's -- and it's still here. As I said, time for an upgrade!

And so, without any more fuss, here's my list of books read:

March

Lady Whistledown Strikes Back - Julia Quinn

On the Way to the Wedding - Julia Quinn

The Time of Contempt - Andrzej Sapkowski (Witcher series)

A Darker Shade of Magic - V. E. Schwab

The Librarians and the Lost Lamp - Greg Cox

The Lost and Found Bookshop - Susan Wiggs

April

Oathbringer - Brandon Sanderson

Rhythm of War - Brandon Sanderson

The Forgotten Room - Lauren Willig, Karen White, Beatriz Williams

Below Stairs - Margaret Powell

May

Peace by Chocolate - Jon Tattie (non-fiction)

Dark Eden - Chris Becket

June

The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels - India Holton

Men in Kilts - Katie McAlister

People We Meet on Vacation - Emily Henry

The Duchess Deal - Tessa Dare

The Governess Game - Tessa Dare

The Corset Diaries - Katie McAlister

July

A Scot at Heart - Caroline Linden

Name of the Wind - Patrick Rothfuss

Wise Man's Fear - Patrick Rothfuss

The Slow Regard of Silent Things - Patrick Rothfuss

Rogues (anthology) - ed. by George RR Martin and Gardener Dozois

As you can see, I slant heavily toward romance and fantasy, but spice it up with other genre as well. And The Slow Regard of Silent Things is one of my top three favorite books of all time. I re-read it at least once a year.

That brings us up-to-date! My August will mostly be spent writing - although RL (real life) is going to be more intrusive this month in the form of long-put-off doctor's visits and whatnot. Will post a picture of the finished hallway and study once the carpet is in. :)

Play safe, get vaccinated!

Diana/Cindy

(Yes, I'm including my real first name - and will from now on. I've been posting more to Facebook as me rather than Diana - as I said in May, my plate was so full, if something fell on the floor, it was going to have to stay there as I didn't dare bend over to pick it up and risk upsetting everything else. As I move forward, the Diana Facebook page will remain, but most of my postings are to Cindy Duprey. Come follow me there!)

Sunset; View from my cabin
July 19, 2021

It's quarter to eleven on the night before Summer Solstice and all is quiet here at Storyknife. In fact, it's been pretty quiet for the past 19 days - quiet enough to get a whole lot of writing done, that's for darn sure.

I wasn't sure what to expect when six female authors of various backgrounds, ethnicities, and ages all came together in one location for an entire month. Those of you who know me, know I'm a quiet kind of person, one who prefers small groups of people over large ones, who likes her alone time, and who doesn't necessarily make friends easily. You can see why I might've been anxious.

My fears were unfounded. The women here are all wonderfully supportive and mutually helpful. From the stories they tell of other residencies, this one may have spoiled me for all others. Erin Hollowell, the Executive Director here (which simply means she's the one who has to fix the doors if they break and change out the batteries in the motion detectors -- as well as fundraise, organize, shop, and ferry us into town to shop/be tourists once a week), has explicitly told us, our job here is only to be. To exist. We can write if we wish, we can recuperate if need be, we can read, we can dance in the meadow...we are to simply be.

I cannot tell you how freeing that is. While we have a few "duties" to perform (we do our own laundry on our assigned laundry day, including washing our own bedding; we also clean up after ourselves after dinner), the remaining hours of the day are ours. Breakfast is available in the main house (Eva's House), lunch is delivered to our door, and we meet as a group once a day for dinner together around the dining table, where dinner is served to us family style by the most wonderful chef, Maura. It took us a while, but we've gotten in the habit of lingering over dinner with cups of tea (perhaps spiced with a dollop of honey whiskey), discussing whatever topics come to mind. Because of our diversity, the conversation is entertaining -- and intellectual.

It's that last I wish to stress for a moment. One doesn't realize how starved one is for high conversation until one has had a year of separation. I miss our Friday Nights on the Porch back home that a bunch of us started a few years back. Several among a bunch of former acquaintances (now friends) have large porches that are conducive to sitting on through a summer's eve. I look forward to continuing that when I get home. It's been wonderful to have it here.

Tomorrow is the longest day of the year and I'm not sure where we'll end up celebrating it, but if it ends up being huddled in blankets on the porch (they've had a cold spring - finally hit 59 today!), I'm okay with that. The important part is the spirit of Storyknife - a marvelous, peaceful bit of land filled with an idea that writing is important - and that women should have a place away from all else in which to do it.

I don't ever want to leave.

I will, of course. I miss my husband very much. I miss my children and I miss my comfy chair. But I also love the fact that they all encouraged me to come here (including the chair, which, I am assured will still be there when I return). I am being renewed. I am being strengthened. I am being.

Play safe,

Diana

Alaska, here I come!

Well, my bags are packed and I'm ready to go! And if you read/heard that line sung in John Denver's voice, you're showing your age. :)

Regular readers know where I'm headed: Storyknife in Homer, Alaska. This writer's retreat is the dream of Dana Stabenow made real and I'm thrilled to be in the first group of writers to stay in the cabins and fulfill my own dream of having time away from real life to do nothing but live in the world inside my head and write down what I see.

You know those Internet memes that picture some remote cabin and say, "Would you stay here with no Internet, no video games, no TV for one million dollars?" My answer is always a resounding "YES!" Actually, I'd do it for free. So this opportunity to spend time with five other writers, each in our own cabin, is perfect. We'll meet up each day for dinner and companionship, which I've learned over the years IS actually something I enjoy (although for a cool mil? I'd forgo it for a month), but spend our days on our respective projects.

And, unlike other writer's residencies I've looked at, there is no teaching requirement, no word output goal, no demand on our time. This is our time to spend as we each need to. A true luxury.

As for me, I'm setting myself a word-count goal of 3-5000 words per day. Yes, that's putting some pressure on myself, but the key here is: I'm putting the pressure on myself. No one else is. No one else is making me do anything (except my own laundry and I'm good with that - I do some of my best thinking while folding underwear. Really!). I just can't envision myself flying all the way across the country, from the Finger Lakes to Cook Inlet, spending an entire month away from home, and spending money on airline tickets only to come home not having written much. I feel I HAVE to produce SOMETHING.

And I can't wait. I leave tomorrow morning. My hubby is mending well (his partial knee replacement has been a huge success) and my son is here to take care of him. I didn't bother planting much of a garden this year - only garlic down at the cabin (which is another whole mess and source of stress that is a story for another time. Suffice it to say, the cabin is NOT a restful place right now. Evcn in the best of years, it still requires maintenance - which I will not have to do in Alaska. Another reason to be grateful for Dana's dream made real!).

See you in a month!

Play safe and get vaccinated,

Diana

It's been two months...

...and as a writer, you'd think I'd have the words to express the stress I lived these past several weeks. But I am still too close and I can only explain my absence from all things social media the best way I know how: with a story.

March was fairly normal, to be honest. The country's troubles were still the country's troubles, winter was subsiding (although still very much with us here in the Northeast), and life went on much as it always had, with one notable exception: because of recent surgeries, my dad could no longer drive himself to dialysis three times a week. Heck, he couldn't drive - period. So I'd visit him on Wednesdays to be social and on Saturdays to take him to his dialysis appointment.

The fact that the treatment, week-by-week, was taking longer and longer should've clued me in.

It didn't.

By Saturday, April 3rd, he was exhausted all the time. His energy levels were low and he napped often. I took him for a dialysis treatment that took four hours to complete. His earlier treatments took a little over two, for comparison. I promised to come see him on Monday and made sure he'd eaten, then went home.

I kept my promise, but he had no more energy on Monday than he'd had on Saturday. And on Tuesday, he called to tell me he wasn't going to keep his appointment and had cancelled the transportation that was supposed to take him. I dropped what I was doing and headed up (takes me about 40 minutes to get from my door to his).

He informed me he'd made his decision - no more dialysis. It had become a zero-sum proposition: he was as tired when he came out as he was when he went in. I asked him if he understood what stopping meant and he nodded and said he was ready.

And so the long month of April began.

I spent every day with him, knowing there weren't that many left. We’d spend the afternoons reading – he on his tablet where he could make the font big and me lugging Brandon Sanderson’s new tome with me every day. He’d find videos of music he liked on YouTube and play them for me; I showed him how to use Netflix to find old war movies. He told me stories, some of which were brand new, some of which I’d heard a hundred times. But I listened to them again, knowing I was hearing them for the last time.

I'd go home every night, thankful that the clocks had changed and I could at least do some of the drive while it was still light out. Dad decided the only thing that tasted good were Wendy's Frostys - so we ate a lot of those. At one point, he realized he could have a beer any time he wanted, so he had half a can one morning before noon. The next day he had another and a third the day after that. Then he decided he'd had enough over the years and he was done with beer. And done with Frostys. And pretty much done with everything. At that point, I pretty much moved into his apartment with him and stayed 24/7 so I could give him his pain meds when he woke at night and let him know he wasn't alone.

He died on Friday, April 30th. We'd moved him to a hospice house since he couldn't swallow the pain pills any more and at Hildebrandt Hospice they could give him injections of the pain meds. He fell asleep on Wednesday and never woke up.

I was with him and watched as his breathing slowed. Then, between one breath and the one that never came, his body relaxed and he was gone. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking.

Along came May.

And with it, the funeral, the breaking up of the household, the getting rid of the car - and my husband's partial knee replacement.

Yes, you read that right. Out of one fire and into the next. While I'm doing all of the above, I'm also taking care of my True Love. And I don't mind. In fact, I enjoy it. And he's doing well. Only a few grumpy days - and those because of a by-product of the pain meds that didn't allow a certain bodily function to, well, function. And once it did - do NOT stand between him and the bathroom! J

In between the closing out of one life, the nursing of another, I’m also getting ready to travel to Homer, Alaska – clear on the other side of the continent – to enjoy a writer’s residency at Storyknife. I’d been accepted for last year but, because of COVID, the entire season was cancelled and we were all rescheduled for this year.

I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am to be going. Not only because I need a break from real life here (which I do need – desperately!), but because I’m going to get to spend an entire month with other writers, talking shop, and writing. Writing! Something I haven’t been able to do for months now.

So far, I’ve made four copies of the story I’ll be working on while I’m there. One printed out and bound so I can read it (and edit) on the plane, one on my laptop, and two on flashdrives – one which will be with me and one which will go in my checked bag. I managed some time last night to go through my shoes – and toss out three pair that were beyond use (rubber soles should NOT disintegrate just from being in a closet for several years!) and donated a half a dozen pairs to Goodwill – all because I needed to figure out what ones I wanted to take with me. Nevermind that I haven’t even begun to think about what clothes to bring!

(Notice that the project I’ll be working on is packed and ready to go and what I’ll put on my back isn’t even on the list of things to do yet. Writers! Insert eyeroll.)

It is also worth noting that another reason I’m super-excited has to do with the fact that I get to see Tielle St. Clare – a fellow Sizzlin’ Scribe and a writer friend from our days with Ellora’s Cave. I’m spending a few days with her bookended on the residency and I can’t wait (“bookended” – see what I did there?)!

So I have a little over a week to finish cleaning Dad’s place (should be done by Saturday, keep your fingers crossed!), be with my hubby as he gets his staples out (ouch!), and pack (clothes – don’t forget to bring clothes!).

Stress levels? As I said to my doc yesterday, my plate is so full, it’s overflowing and things are falling off the side. And what does fall? I’m too tired to pick up. She said she’s glad I’m getting away for a while. My hubby says to consider this time as a retreat.

I agree with both of them.

You haven’t heard from me for the past two months because I was taking care of my dad and my husband. You’re not going to hear from me for the next month because I’m going to be taking care of me.

In the meantime,

Play safe, get vaccinated, and stay healthy!

Diana

 

Two Reasons to Celebrate - St. Patrick's Day and a Book Sale!

      Not only is St. Patrick's Day quickly approaching, but nthis week is Read An Ebook Week - and what better way to celebrate than by reading stories by Irish authors - or at least, Irish-American authors (that's me!).

     Starting today, Sunday, March 7th, Shadows of the Past and Stitches in Time will be on sale at Smashwords for 25% off. You can download any format you wish, all are on sale.

Lynn LaFleur created the 
cover, but the castle pic
is mine!

  
     

      Did you know I took the photos for both covers? My husband and I visited Ireland in 2016 and I took the picture of Glenquin Castle - a place I definitely wanted to visit, since it played a major role in Stitches in Time. Of course, after visiting, I made a few adjustments to the story. Reading about a place didn't give me the details I found when I actually stood on the grounds (and drove on Irish roads!). 

That's O'Brien's Tower in the 
distance.

     

           The picture on the cover of Shadows of the Past is of O'Brien's Tower at the Cliffs of Moher. Yep.. We not only walked a portion of the Burren Way, we also went to the top of the tower (and took more pictures. Lots. More. Pictures.).

And just for good measure, I've thrown Hardship and Hardtack into this sale. Because this is an historical, rather than erotic romance, it's been published under my own (real) name: C. F. Duprey. I've never put it on sale like this before, so here's your chance to get it at 25% off!

Sale starts TODAY - and goes through the week. 

Happy Reading :)

Reading and Writing...and no Arithmetic

The Celebrity Summit - July 2019
probably the last cruise ship I'll ever sail

So I took February off from social media - mostly. I also refrained from reading the news - again, mostly, sticking to weather reports and local COVID updates. It was time I got back to a story I started after my last cruise (doesn't that sound high? My LAST cruise, because, you know, I go on so many. Okay, three. I've been on three. And I will probably never go again. Thanks, Pandemic - which I capitalize to give it the Importance It Deserves). Anyway...I'd started an erotic romance (yes, I KNOW. I said I was done with that genre, but sometimes the characters just leap out of my imagination and onto the page and who am I to deny them their pleasure?), and decided it was high time I got back to those characters and nudge them forward in their story.

I didn't do as well as I'd hoped, but I did add another 3000 words to the story, mostly in the beginning of the month. Still a little hard to concentrate, what with all that's going on, but life is moving forward - and so is Maisy and Scott's story. No title as of yet - toying with RomantiaCruise, or Romancing the Seas - but both sound pretty 70's, don't they?

Reading, however, I have covered. I'm including both my January and February reading lists as I didn't update my January post (I was taking a break, remember?). You'll note I read 18 books in the first eight weeks of the year. Yeah. Escape is my coping strategy right now.

January

Besides the two books by Julia Quinn: The Duke and I, and The Viscount Who Loved Me, read in preparation for watching Bridgerton on Netflix, I also read the entire Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare: City of Bones, City of Ashes, City of Glass and City of Fallen Angels.

February

Finished the last book in the Mortal Instruments series: City of Heavenly Fire. Overall, the series was enjoyable, even if the writing was uneven.

Clanlands by Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish - Two teenage boys let loose (a friend called them "frat boys" - but I don't think they're that entitled. More like little boys told to go play). Am looking forward to their series, Men In Kilts.

Blood of Elves by Andrzej Spakowski - this is the first in The Witcher series. I've tried the Netflix series, but kind of lost interest after five or so episodes. This book seems to take place WAY before the series does, and it might've been better for Netflix to have started where the books did. Interesting to read a translation - sometimes there's a bit of awkwardness in the sentences, but it's a good (if bloody) story.

And then, because I needed a break from the blood and gore: seven Julia Quinn books in a row: An Offer From A Gentleman, Romancing Mr. Bridgerton, To Sir Phillip with Love, Because of Miss Bridgerton, When He was Wicked, It's in his Kiss, and The Girl With the Make-Believe Husband. What can I say? When one needs an escape, Regency's are wonderful. And Ms. Quinn writes with flair.

On the last Saturday of the month I found myself with time on my hands - and chose to spend it at Barnes and Noble. I have a stack of unread books from both Christmas and my birthday, plus at least three dozen I've picked up here and there but not yet cracked the bindings on. So naturally I bought five more books!

One I finished today, but will count in February's total, since the bulk of it was read this past weekend - and it is one I HIGHLY RECOMMEND: The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow. It probably deserves it's own post, but I'm still carrying the book inside my head and can really do no more than make a recommendation. I'll roll it around my thoughts for several days - going back to it in my head and re-living parts. In a few months, I'll pick it up and read it again, knowing there are more levels, and wanting to revisit the characters. And maybe then I'll be able to make coherent statements other than the banal, "Good book, read it."

That catches me up. Hope you are all doing well. It's storming here again (windstorm with snow this time), so staying put tonight. Play safe, and wear a mask!

Diana

New year, new books!

 Well, some new books...for me, anyway.

Once I realized the Netflix series, Bridgerton, was loosely based on Julia Quinn's books, I decided to reread The Duke and I (the first in the series) - and I did this for several reasons. Primarily, I wanted to enjoy the characters with my own pictures in my head before watching the series and getting someone else's pictures in my head. I also read (for the first time) The Viscount Who Loved Me since I wasn't sure if the filmed series would stick to one book at a time or mix the stories all together and tell pieces of each as it went along.

For my review of the series, click here.

For Christmas, my hubby bought me my favorite presents: books. Because I wanted to watch Bridgerton, I didn't immediately delve into any of the three fantasy series he got me this year (THREEE!!!!). After binging the Netflix series, I decided to wait on reading any more of Quinn's books (I have most of them already and they all bear multiple re-reads) and dive head-first into the longest of the fantasy series he bought me: The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare. To that end, I've read the first book, City of Bones.

Yes, I know there's some anti-Clare readers out there and I perused the "controversy." I have not yet read the Mortal Engines series, but on the surface, I'm not seeing much in the way of similarities. Does Clare use several fantasy tropes? Of course. Did J.K. Rowling rip off some of Tolkien? Of course! Doesn't make her a bad writer - it's just her take on a particular story (for the record, take a look at my workshop on the 36 Dramatic Situations - there just aren't that many plots out there!)

Anyway, while there are some sentences I rewrote in my head (hard to find an author where I DON'T do that!), overall I enjoyed it and plan to start the next book today.

With all that's going on in the US right now, I could use an escape into another world.

Play safe!

Diana

Bridgerton review

 Bridgerton

 I am four episodes in and actually enjoying it for what it is, not for what snobs *think* it should be.

 Let me explain…

 I have read several of Julia Quinn’s Regency romances set in the English world she created (there are several parts, and not all of them are focused on the Bridgerton’s. I enjoyed the Smyth-Smith books and the Rokesby series as well), but have read only a few of the actual Bridgerton books, including The Duke and I, the first in the series. Before watching the first episode of Netflix’s series, I re-read the book, since I knew from the trailer that something wonky was going on with the filmed version.

 Apparently that something wonky has thrown a LOT of people into a tizzy worthy of a snooty Regency debutante.

 Okay, so the costumes aren’t historically accurate. And the casting of people of color isn’t historically authentic. And the additional plot points aren’t in the book.

 So what?

 Truly.

 So. What.

 I know, coming from me, that sounds sacrilegious. But these are Regency romances. They’re fantasies where the heroine always gets the Rich Husband and hero always behaves with Honor and they both live Happily Ever After. And the Netflix series doesn’t mess with that part.

 To be honest, I thought the mixed-race casting was going to bother me. It doesn’t. Not even a little bit. In fact, at one point, I was watching the queen and thought to myself, “This is actually quite wonderful. How many little girls of color have never seen themselves in these books because of, well, history. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to have the same dreams of going to a ball, of finding a handsome, kind, rich husband?” It made sense to me.

 This series is a fairy tale. A charming, fun, fairy tale, and it makes no bones about it. From the costume “mistakes” (they are choices, by the way, not mistakes – and can we say Hamilton? You can’t complain about the costumes of Bridgerton if you’re not also going to complain to Lyn Manuel), to the casting of the characters, the creators of this series are celebrating a glittering world most of us would love to escape to. And I, for one, am enjoying the escape.

 I’d be remiss if I didn’t complement them on one other point: the lack of opportunity for women during that time period. That point they’ve kept quite historical. Women were property. So were children. The creators have dealt with those realities quite forcefully, as did Julia Quinn in her books. In that, they did not stray. That lack of rights makes for desperation on the part of the women, a desperation that is a common thread in Regency romances – and in many people’s real-life lives. I’m glad they have emphasized the point. It shows how far women have come – and how differently we treat children today.

 Overall, I am enjoying the series. It captures the light-hearted spirit of Quinn’s books – and yet is dissimilar enough that I can keep my own version of her characters in my head (something no other book-to-movie/TV series has done, despite my best efforts to hang onto Claire Randall Fraser). I give the series a resounding thumbs-up!

Play safe,

Diana

Holiday spirit

 

Our lights are up on the house, the rooms are decorated with memories and flair from the past. Music sounds throughout the house, cookies are in the oven, and the tree will be up soon. All part and parcel of the holidays here.

The elusive “Christmas Spirit” that people talk of comes to me in spurts – always has. One day it’s not there, then I turn around and suddenly feel that lightness in my chest. My breath quickens and the world seems a bit brighter. I don’t always have it this early, but I get “moments” – small things that bring a smile to my heart: unpacking the Christmas glasses and finding the one with the chip that I always take as mine so no one else has to see it; putting the garland around the bay windows and attaching the red ribbons to the pull-backs to create a holiday framework with which to view the outside world; pulling out a plastic bell and mistletoe that used to hang in my grandmother’s house – these are what make December special, make the holiday special. And it doesn’t matter if no one can come visit, can come see the beauty that surrounds us this month. We can see it. I can see it, and the sights give me hope.

But these feelings, as I said, come in spurts. Other times I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders – even in years where there isn’t a pandemic raging and civil war isn’t threatening my country. We host a party every year that grew out of a small way to give back to our friends when we didn’t have much in the way of money. Throwing a Christmas party allowed us to cook and bake for them, give them an evening of fun and laughter that was better than a store-bought present. That first year, we had just bought a very small house in a neighborhood of old people (now that I’ve reached their age, I prefer the term “elderly” – but in your twenties, “old people” fits). I was worried that, with the half-dozen or so cars that would line the road, with the noise we might make, that they would call the police on us. So I took pre-emptive action.

I invited them all to the party.

It was a huge success – and mostly because of the “old folk” neighbors. Several hadn’t been to a Christmas party in years because they no longer drove. Now they just had to walk across the street. It was such a success that we repeated the party the next year. And the year after that. And the year after that one – until it became tradition and we’d given the party every year for thirty-seven years.

But not this year. Last year, over the course of the open house, we had over sixty people stop by for conversation, food, and festivity. This year there will be no one. The decorations will be viewed only by my husband, my son, and I on a daily basis and on Christmas Day, by my daughter and her significant other. No one else. As a result, I had a different reaction when I opened the bin marked “Party” – the bin where I keep all the fun dishes, the towels, the little serving utensils that grace the tables and hold the bounty we present to all who walk through the door for the annual party – whether we know them or not (I can’t tell you the number of times people have attended and I’ve had to turn to someone else and ask who that person is. Just because I don’t know them doesn’t mean they can’t grab a plate and have a slice of turkey – but I figure, as hostess, I ought to make sure they eat!).

But unlike opening the other bins, where each one hid a smile and a bit of holiday cheer, this bin brought tears to my eyes. There is no party this year, no gathering of friends. There is no need for the platters of cookies, or the snowman bowls of dips or the plates of fudge. I closed the bin and turned my back on it, surprised at the feelings of grief and loss that threatened to overwhelm me.

This morning, however, I realized I need a different approach. There is no party with friends, but I’m still here. My husband and son are still here. My daughter is healthy, her significant other is doing fine, as is his family. We have a great deal to be thankful for, and a great deal to celebrate.

So today, I’m getting out the party finery. My husband made fudge yesterday, I’ll put it on the Currier and Ives plates and have a piece to “toast” absent friends. Because in reality, that’s all they are – absent. With news of a vaccine on the horizon, there’s every reason to think this a one-year hiccup. We’ll not see our friends this year, so we can see them in the next. To do otherwise – to see them now and then possibly not ever again – is something I can’t even bear to think about.

Ah! There it is again! The lightening in the chest, the world looking a little brighter. The Christmas Sprit visits.

May your holidays be wonderful this month. In a time that’s not only the darkest time of the calendar, but in a year that’s been filled with stress, may your Yuletide, your Hanukkah, your Kwanza, your Christmas, be filled with the Spirit of Light. Hope still lives, as each of these celebrations remind us.

Play safe, everyone. Wear your mask, and drink a toast – or have a piece of fudge – to absent friends. You’ll see them next year.

 Happy Holidays!

Diana

These are last year's decorations, as this year we've not had
any significant snow. Let the lights shine out!

Cyber Monday Sale 2020

 

 Get all four books in the Submission series for the price of one!

Head on over to Smashwords (use the links below) to get each book at $1.00 or less. Fill out your own collection or pass the codes on to friends!

• Secret Submission - SB75W
• Submission Revealed - ZV74H
• Services Rendered - WE66N
• Diamond Submission - UH89L

Sale only lasts until Wednesday, December 2nd, so don't wait!

Pre-election reading

 Haven’t written much this past month – either fiction or non-fiction. To be honest, I feel like I’m in a holding pattern until the U.S. election is done. Here in New York State, we’re voting not only for President, but also for our Congressional Representative and several local offices. Most of my neighbors don’t agree with my choices, if the signs in their yards are any indication and normally, that wouldn’t bother me one bit. We each have our vote and sometimes it goes my way and sometimes it goes theirs. That’s what democracy looks like.

 This election, however, has a very different feel to it. The stakes are higher, for one, and I’m not entirely sure but that the country I grew up in will still exist in a year or two. Lots of stress right now, and knowing that the results of the election will not be known for days, weeks, months, isn’t helping.

 The characters in my head are just as stressed out as I am and have retreated to their respective rooms, cozying up with cups of hot chocolate – or glasses of whiskey, depending on the book-in-progress – so I’m giving them their time away and have turned to other pursuits in order to cope with my own concerns about the future. Mostly I’m escaping into the past and scrapbooking the several boxes of stuff that have accumulated or I’m escaping into other people’s worlds and reading.

 So what have I been reading? Here goes:

 Eragon, by Christopher Paolini – this one ticked me off. Yes, I realize it was written by a teenager – but it reads like it, too! NOT well-written at all (lots of passive sentences. LOTS of passive sentences). I wanted to shake the editor. It’s a good story and the kid should’ve been taught how to rewrite and make it smoother how to make the language flow rather than just patted on the back and published. Grrr. Started the 2^nd in the series (Eldest), but no one had told him any differently, so he was still writing in the same immature style. Stopped reading Eldest after a chapter, so not counting it in my list.

 Grant, by Ron Chernow – am about ½ way through this one, still. Started it at the end of September, then needed something fictional, so set it aside. Will get back to it, though, so I’m counting it here. It’s good – and not a dry biography.

 A Princess by Christmas, by Julia London – a quick one that’s a companion to A Royal Kiss and Tell, which I’d read back in July. I like her writing and will continue to read her books!

 Cryptonomicon, by Neil Stephanson – my son recommended this one and, Oh. My. Glory. I didn’t understand ANY of the crypto stuff and ended up skipping those extremely detailed explanations and it took me a while to realize the time-hopping simply was telling the story of two generations of the same families, but eventually I got it. Not really my kind of story (graphic!) but the overall storyline was compelling enough that I finished it. All of it.

 By this point I needed something far more light-hearted. Found it in Rose Pearson's books. I read three of them in a row: In Search of Love, A Mistaken Rake, and A Broken Betrothal. I’ll read more of her!

 Moved back to fantasy for the next one – Brandon Sanderson’s The Arcaneum. This is a collection of short stories from his various worlds. I’d read most of them before, but I finished off the ones I hadn’t read, so am including the entire book here.

 I also have on hand a book of short stories by various authors all dealing with magic. But since I haven’t finished it, I’ll save it for November’s list.

 So, for those of you keeping count – that’s a total of 63 books for the year. More than one a week, but then, some of them (I’m looking at you, Cryptonomicon!) took a while to get through. And, depending on what tomorrow brings – I may yet hit a record number of books read in a single year.

 Play safe – wear a mask – and cross your fingers the country doesn’t fall apart,

 Diana

 

 I wrote this a week ago and have been sitting on it, unsure whether I should share it or not. My husband has convinced me I should. Turns out, I'm not the only one feeling this way.

2020: 

A retrospective, although why anyone would want to look back and reflect on this year is…confusing.

A year of extremes. From the wildfires in Australia in January to the wildfires on the west coast of the US in August and September. A hurricane season that ran out of names and had to go to the Greek alphabet. Social uprising long overdue, a virus that defied analysis, a divided political system that then divided the country – if I believed in a vengeful God, I’d think he had it out for the human race.

Except that the human race is stupid enough, self-centered enough, and just plain stubborn enough to make its own set of trouble. No need to blame it on God. We did this to ourselves.

I used to be an optimist. Still am, at the core. We will get through this time of trouble just as we (i.e. the human race) have gotten through tough times before. It might take a few years, but we usually come out having learned something and progressed as a society. I believe we will do the same this time.

But damn, living through the mess is hard. Steven and I have it easy right now. We have money coming in via my pension and our teaching. Going online to teach, while a little stressful, isn’t all that bad, especially because everyone’s thinking this is temporary. Buckle up and teach/take the courses this way for now and in a year we’ll be back to in-person, on-campus classes.

We also have a house that’s paid for, so our bills are low. I have good health insurance (that will change in a year when I have to go on Medicare – one bridge at a time, thank you very much). We are not sick and have begun to carefully open our social circle (not something I’m keen to do, honestly. I kinda like the solitude. A chance to read!).

And still, I find my jaw clenching for no reason. I broke a tooth – probably from grinding my teeth. I’ve gained weight because I tend to eat my anxieties. And every day there’s a new idiocy from the White House or at the Walmart. I look around and wonder, “Is this how it happens? We fall as a nation, as a society, as a people, because people truly just don’t care about each other?”

In the old days (last year – heck, last February), one didn’t know who you met on the street was stupid and who was a brainiac. It didn’t matter. You saw a stranger and smiled politely, nodded, perhaps exchanged a pleasant greeting, and moved on. No judgment, no negativity. Simplicity.

Now, however, there is a visible sign of not only their lack of understanding, but increasingly, of their political affiliation and, by extension, their morality. You see a stranger and he/she/they is not wearing a mask as you approach. I immediately know they don’t care about me – or anyone, really. They care only about their own comfort/beliefs/ideology. The rest of us can die. Literally.

And that’s the heart of 2020. What Mother Nature is throwing at us (murder hornets? Really, Mother?) is to be expected after years of ignoring warnings about the damage we’re doing to the climate. No, Mother Nature is pissed off and I get that.

But I don’t get willful stupidity. And that’s exactly what I see in those who are choosing to say, “Screw you. My rights are more valuable than yours.” I don’t get those who don’t understand there’s a people who have been systematically oppressed for generations and who are mad as hell and aren’t going to take it anymore. I don’t understand those who would rather kill their neighbor than have a conversation that – gasp!- might lead to understanding – on both sides.

So yeah, my optimism has taken a hit this year. I still hold out hope for the future, but if I had a genie and only one wish? I’d wish that I could have a peek at how this all turns out. A little certainty in this uncertain world would set my mind at ease.

 Here in the Northeast, the weather turned chilly this past week and the fall colors are popping out all over. I've put up the autumnal decorations around the house, changed my drawers from summer to winter clothes...and of course, this weekend the temperatures will be back in the 80's. A last hurrah, as it were.

I don't mind. I love summer. Traditionally, Spring has been my favorite ever since I was a little kid. I love the rain puddles to splash in, the bright colors of the first flowers, and the hope that comes with each new planting. As the years progress, however, I'm finding a new appreciation for the warmth of summer, warmth sometimes so thick you can wrap it around you like a blanket. But my blood runs a little thinner nowadays, so that's not as much of an issue as it used to be.

Autumn is my husband's favorite season, but for years, I associated it with going back to a job I hated. The last few years of teaching were onerous because I was burned out. I'd used up all the energy I had to put into education and ran on fumes the last year. 

Now that I'm retired, however, I'm re-discovering this season. I still don't like the coming of the colder weather (see above, summer's warm blanket), but I am appreciating the color changes for the beauty they hold, even as they warn that winter is on it's way. Where I used to cringe at the first sign of yellow in the leaves, I now simply acknowledge - and then watch for the reds and oranges to appear.

Needless to say, winter and I don't get along. It was kind of nice for COVID to come along in March and force me to stay inside and not go out and drive in that mess. Yuck.

As the seasons change, I've been working on a new story (Not telling much yet. Don't want to jinx it) and doing a little more reading. I know it isn't the end of the month yet, but I'm going to post my list to date now before I forget.

I finished off The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch the first few days of the month, and then read the remaining two books in that series: Red Seas Under Red Skies and The Republic of Thieves. Apparently there are to be more in that series, but he hasn't written them yet. What do you think your name is? George RR Martin? Get to it, man!

From there I moved to more lighthearted fare: 16 Ways to Defend a Walled City and How to Rule an Empire and Get Away With It  - two books by K. J. Parker. He also writes under the name Tom Holt and I'd read The Outsourcer's Apprentice by him last month. Fun, easy-to-read entertainment!

Moved back into the romance genre for the next few books: Forever Summer (2 novellas) by Nora Roberts, Heiress for Hire by Madeline Hunter, and A Duke to Die For by Amelia Grey. I'm a sucker for a good Regency.

So only seven books so far this month. I'm slacking! And the book I'm currently reading will take a long time: Grant by Ron Chernow. He's the same author who wrote the biography that Lyn-Manuel Miranda turned into the musical, Hamilton. The book is a fascinating look at not just the Civil War general-turned President, but a look at the times as well. Not something that's skimmable, however, so I'm taking my time. :)

Play safe! Wear a mask!

Diana

Summer's bounty - a reading list

 As the nation still struggles with a pandemic, racial issues, and politics that are running amok, I took the summer to do something I haven't done in ages: read.

And I don't mean read a few books here and here, as is my usual M.O. I mean READ like I used to before kids, before marriage, even. Read like I was back in junior high and going to the library every week to get books. Read as in pick one up just after breakfast, remember to stop long enough to make myself a sandwich for lunch and get to the dinner table when my husband's holler pierces through the story I'm encased in. My mom used to say she could set a bomb off next to me and I wouldn't notice if my nose was stuck in a book. This summer, my husband learned the same thing.

Because we couldn't go anywhere physical, I've spent a lot of time down at the cabin, where Internet is spotty at best. While there I puttered around on odd jobs that took less than ten minutes, and then settled in with a good fantasy series - and stayed there.

So what's my list? I already put up part of July's; here is the rest of what I read that month:

By Peter V. Brett: The Skull Throne, The Daylight War, and The Desert Spear (I'd already read The Warded Man, the first in the series and said so in my other post)

In August, I finished off Brett's series with The Core. Overall, good series. Liked most of the characters and the action, although a little too bloody for my tastes. And one entire culture I did not care for At All. Perhaps because he was so good at describing it and it is opposite everything I hold dear. But if you're looking for an immersive world...he certainly achieved that!

I then decided to revisit Pern, so I dug out the Anne McCaffery books I already have and added a few more. Figured I needed something not so bloodthirsty. :) I read:

Dragonflight, Dragonquest, The White Dragon, Dragonsong, Dragonsinger, and Dragondrums. I then read one by her daughter, Dragon's Code by Gigi McCaffery. While Anne has said the books should be read in the order in which she wrote them, this one took place immediately after Dragondrums, so I snuck it in.

I continued with Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern, Nerilka's Story, Dragonsdawn, The Renegades of Pern and All the Weyrs of Pern. By the time you get to Dragonsdawn, the story has become much less fantasy and much more science fiction. An interesting blend, to be sure. This puts me at halfway through the full set of Pern books (there are 12 to go!), but I needed a bit of a break, so I headed off to Barnes and Noble to find another series.

I'd read The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Finch before - and kept the book, which is a sure sign I liked it (I only keep books I might read again - take a look at those shelves! There isn't room for more!). I found the next two books in the series in the store, so picked those up. Also found some more lighthearted fantasy fare, so bought three of those, of which, I've only read The Outsourcer's Apprentice by Tom Holt so far. I also re-read The Lies of Locke Lamora in prep for the next ones.

If you're keeping track, that's a total of 14 books in July and 15 books for August, with a total of 46 total for the year. Yes, you read that right. I've read 29 of the 46 books in the last two months! Considering this is the last day of the month, the book I start today will go on September's list since I won't finish it today.

Playsafe - (and yes, I've been working on a new story in there as well!), wear a mask,

Diana