Right now, we are getting snow here in NY’s Capitol Region. I have a hot cup of gingerbread tea in my pink gingham mug. If I could summon any snack in the world to appear it would be swirly butter cookies with a kiss of raspberry jelly in the middle. I had a toasted English muffin with butter and grape spread. Kind of close but not the same. Maybe time to find a lower sugar recipe I can make on my own? Anyway, I have new fairy lights along the bookcase over my desk. These are multicolored, and steady, and I like the feel they give me. I will probably grab more from end of season sales, because the lights are very me.
I am very much into the whole hygge thing. Last time Housemate and I made our weekly craft store run, I got a box of candle wicks so that I can melt down the remains of past jar candles into new candles. I love that whole idea, and the thought of the process and might even try making my own labels for the “new” candles. Part and parcel of January, it would seem. Last night, I finished listening to Bronson Pinchot read Jennifer Roberson’s Shapechangers. I will probably read or listen to the others in time. I am more of a Tiger and Del gal when it comes to Roberson, but it’s all good.
January this year is turning out to be a lot like November was, in that I want to experience it for itself, not as December’s hangover. We haven’t had much snow this month so far, and I am usually okay with the rain, but the promise of snow, that’s something special. My contemporary co-author, Melva Michaelian and I, have finished edits on our two most recent contemporary manuscripts. One will go to The Wild Rose Press for consideration, as they have right of first refusal, and the other may be ina revise and resubmit situation, or it will begin on a journey to find its home elsewhere. We’d like all of the Love By The Book books to be together, so that’s our hope.
This brings me to a place where I haven’t been for a while. My main focus for this quarter is solo historical romance. Pause for a short moment of running in circles, screaming, when Facebook wanted to know if I would like to remember that I had started Her Last First Kiss seven years ago. Seven. Years. I hate stops and starts like this, but I still love the story, and big changes to the second half do make that part of the book pretty much like a new work. I don’t know how this is going to shake out right now, and that’s okay. What I do know is that it’s time. I. Am. Doing. This. I’m not going to tell myself it’s too late, I’m too old, the market is too different, etc, etc, etc. None of that. I’m not doing that anymore.
What I am doing is, well, writing. Doesn’t matter what at present, just as long as ink is coming out of the pen and onto the page. Journals, letters (remember letters? I love those.) and getting back into reading the stuff I love the very very best. Those seven years between the start of Her Last First Kiss and now have been big ones. I am proud of getting through them. I have co-written three contemporary romances. One of them is out in the world now, and then the other two are on their way to joining it at the right time. Tehre’s a balance somewhere between things I have always wanted to write and things that might be fun to try now. Getting back to regular blogging is a part of that.
One of the fun things about being in this kind of phase is discovering new things and steering into the natural rhythm. I am thinking of trying Archer and Olive journals, though my preference is for lined over dotted pages and ivory over white. There are kraft and blackout options, so I might try one of those. I like most notebook sizes, mainly A5, B6, and pocket. I love the idea of the heavyweight paper and would love to fit one into a leather cover, either folio or traveler’s notebook. Recommendations glagly accepted.