Last week was, in a word, disgusting. Mostly for the heat, though there are most assuredly worse ways to spend days where the temperature reaches the nineties than sprawled in front of a box fan, mainlining coconut seltzer. That’s as close to a tropical vacation as I care to get, as I am pale and heat sensitive. Big plans to plow through my mini library haul were for naught, and I made only slow progress on e-reading as well. That’s all okay, though, as Drama King is now in the hands of its potential editor, and I am currently getting ready for tonight’s video chat with Melva where we will get the ball rolling on an outline for Queen of Hearts. This also means I now have brain space to give back to historicals, whihc I have sorely missed.
None of that is news to the regular readers here, but sometimes the best way to get the ol’ brain in working gear is to write stuff one already knows. That’s not a bad thing at all. Firm footing and all that. Another thing that helps here is to get my plans down in a visually appealing manner. Here is the desk planner for the week, mostly before the pen.
This is my first ever time covering the left hand (my left) side with scrapbook paper and totally ignoring everything pre printed on the page. I have heard this is not an uncommon issue but for some reason I always thought I was “supposed to” deal with what was printed on the page, the way it was printed on the page. This is the same me who would be the first person to tell someone else to white it out, cover it, but don’t stare at the page and feel dumb becuase they’re not making it work. Ahem. Yeah.
So. Part of all that was spending a big chunk of Sunday putting together my first Frankenplanned writing notebook to see me through the stretch from July to January. I’ll share pictures and maybe a flip through later. Don’t ask me about specific goals at this point. Still working on those, and I am pretty sure I know how I want to deal with Camp Nano. Pretty sure I’m going to be in the rebel encampment for that one but very much looking forward to the cameraderie and shaking pompoms in the general direction of any potential cabinmates. Would love to end up in a cabin full of historical romance writers. That hasn’t happened yet as far as I know. Well, for me that is.
For now, I have a hot date with a cool drink and a good book before I get ready for my chat with Melva and the requisite color coded highlighters and index cards. Tonight, we lay the foundation.
I don’t summer well. Regular readers know that. If you’re new, now you do, too. This is the third (I think) too hot to function day in a row. Staying cool and hydrated, hanging with my fan club (as in we have box fans) and turning my sleep/wake cycle on its head as days are more somnolent and nights are more active.
This is working out well. Yesterday, Melva and I agreed that the draft of Drama King is indeed ready for submission, and all we have to do today is write a cover letter and then off it goes. Monday means we knuckle down and outline Queen of Hearts. I love outlining, Melva, mmmm, not so much. In that Melva does not love outlining. For me, it means that I have the weekend to pick out a QoH notebook (probably from my on-hand stash) and probably set up a Scrivener theme. We will ignore the fact that this will mean angsting over whether I want to try and get Scfrivener on my cufrent laptop even though my documentation that I really do own it is in storage and not easily accessible, or get my old laptop that already has Scrivener on it fixed so that I can use it. We will see how that all goes.
It’s also time to set up my historical romance notebooks. That second half of Her Last First Kiss is gnawing at me, and I am SO CLOSE to the end of the firs round of edits on A Heart Most Errant, annnnnd there is a pirate trilogy that will not sit down and be quiet while I tend its elder siblings. Phew. Time to get a move on, which includes getting down the bones of other stuff that has been simmering for far too long, and new stuff that won’t quit coming.
Writing query letters and the like are not my favorite sorts of writing. The very first query letter I ever wrote, I scrawled something like “I really don’t write/talk like this” at the bottom. This time, though, I feel delightfully detached from that part of the process, and eh, we wrote a thing, editor said she wants to see it, boom, here it is kthanxbye. Only more professional. There’s fake dating, and a grump/sunshine relationship, independent theater, and an orange former street cat who sets the house rules.
One other thing that is striking me as a newness is that there is a definite shift in my planning/journaling practice. I did not see that coming, but when I completely claimed the kitchen table as my de facto office desk, that involved setting up an improvised bookcase from a wooden crate, and finding covers for my discbound books so I don’t look at rows and rows of discs, annnnd some things moved on their own. Not in objects relocating themselves, but Book X belongs in Y cover, and I now want to write morning pages in book A instead of book B. Also, I came to terms with the fact that I don’t like blank pages and putting some visuals on said pages is actually a big help.
Going to wrap this now so I can get the letter written and to Melva, so we can smush our individual letters together, and then flop back in front of the fan. Just me and Kindle Unlimited and a nice cold watermelon seltzer. Also frequently my feline supervisor still demanding her seat on my torso, weather be hanged.
Tomorrow begins a new month, which means that part of my day today is for making sure I have my June planners (plural) are in good working order. My list for the week’s shopping includes things like an audio cable for the external speaker/microphone, and a decent reading lamp for my nightstand, lightbulb that gives off warm light essential. Once I have this post posted, I get to wrestle my dinosaur desktop to transfer some files to my laptop, and take a good long look at Scrivener and decide whether I want to purchase a new copy or look into resurrecting my HP stream laptop that has it already installed. (Resurrecting the ancient MacBook Pro is also an option, which would require buying Scrivener for Mac.) I have various electronic devices charging, including my OG (to me) Kindle-Kindle, Methos Junior (she’s a girl, though) for easy electronic reading without the temptation to constantly check social media and find the perfect background audio.
The bed has clean sheets on it, in preparation for work done in the “soft office.” This is also why I have finally accepted that I will have to A) figure out where to buy a replacement LED unit for the lamp I had by my bed, and B) how to change them, and C) buying a decent lamp with a real bulb will probably be my best course to take here. Props to the home decorating You Tube videos I have been inhaling for reminding me that lightbulbs come in different temperatures of light. The office chair search continues, as I scour FB Marketplace for a likely candidate, or can come up with a solid enough plan to justify renting a bigger vehicle to move actual furniture from storage.
Tonight, I will be racing the remaining hours on a historical romance I have on electronic loan from the library, as the historical romance reading mojo seems to be thinking about returning from its smoke break. I ripped the bandage off my Netflix block a couple nights ago, and watched all of Harlan Coben’s the Woods in one night. (Polish adaptation of an American novel) most of it with Storm sphinx-ing on top of me so that she can watch, too. Follow me for more dark European creepy drama reccommendations. I am going to be a big girl and get to my This Is Us backlog, even though I know what happens in the season finale. I do not intend to write Kate and Toby fanfiction, but I am willing to if they force my hand. Ditto Kevin and Sophie, and when are we going to get to see Rebecca and Miguel’s love story? I know he’s no Jack (who could be?) but he’s a good guy, and I am here for Rebecca having not one but two big loves in her life. Oh, and Uncle Nicky/Sally second chance, please. I think that’s all. :consults list: If they touch Beth/Randall, I riot. Oh, and that better be Malik who is Deja’s flash-forward partner.
Reading devices are loaded with next YA e-book, audiobook, and historical romance reads. Tomorrow, the libraries in our area open. One guess who is going to be there with a big tote bag.
For clarity, I mean me, not Hillary Duff. Unless you’re in California. Then more likely her than me, but it’s a big state.
It’s the idea that counts. I have missed the library like I’d miss air if I were locked in a trunk. Tomorrow is a family day, but I have days after that blocked out on my calendar as Writing Days. Capitol W, capitol D. In boldface. Not only is there the draft to look over for Drama King (and my first ever crack at looking for sensitivity readers) but my return to A Heart Most Errant edits, and next up, a return to Her Last First Kiss, where I can make right what once went wrong.
This time, I am not overwhelmed. I am excited. My prep work for Queen of Hearts is underway. As I suspected, it would mosey on in when I was doing other things. That seems to be the way things work around here. My “A Working Day” playlist is playing (follow on Spotify if you want to know what the inside of my head sounds like.) I expect that it will grow, which is always a sign of life.
Appropriate for the start of a new month, at least for me. Regardless of what the calendar or almanac says, Memorial Day starts summer in our family. This year, though, I highly suspect that comfy apartment, shiny new laptop and a realistic writing plan will keep me well occupied for most of the season. After that, fall, and the return of my super powers, fall being my favorite season. It’s not that far away at all.
In the words of the great Ricky Ricardo, the time has come. In other words, Drama King is a draft. Draft two in the vault, and now all that’s left is for me and Melva Michaelian to go over the whole thing one more time to make sure we are done for this stage, and we send it off to our editor at the Wild Rose Press. If they want it, then we’ll have at least one more go-over to make sure it’s right for this editor and this line. If that goes well, then there are still line edits, copy edits, art sheets to get information for the cover, and a bunch of other things.
We are already started on the third book in the series, Queen of Hearts, and then we already know what our next contemporary adventure is going to be. We’ve already started laying the groundwork for that, and it looks like fun from here.
Then there’s my other life. Historical life. I have the edits for A Heart Most Errant to finish and send back to my fabulous editor at Safeword Author Services. Next floats in that parade include formatting and cover art, and then bibbity bobbity book, we’ll have a new historical romance.
There’s also getting back to know Her Last First Kiss, my much beloved, long neglected Georgian historical. I think I zigged where I should have zagged there, so time for course correction, while keeping with the marriage laws of the time. Can’t go marrying anybody you want, whenever you want. That way lays chaos. Or so the Georgians would have us believe.
Being in this writing place is a time where I wasn’t sure when or if I would be here again. Taking a couple of days to breathe feels like a good idea. Especially since today is going to be a hot one, and i do not at all summer well. Hence a date with my BFF to hang out in air conditioning. She’ll have some awesome new colored pencils and an adult coloring book. I’m not sure what I’m bringing as of yet, but she’ll be here soon, so I will probably grab one of my pen pouches and a notebook and call it good. There may be a trip to a craft store along the way to pick up anything else I might want to include. There will be brain dumping. There will be decompression. There will be cold drinks.
Yesterday was a good writing day. Like, a really good writing day. The super functional monthly view of planning my writing tasks seems to be working super well, on this second week of doing it. Okay, the edges of the pages are decorated, but every daily box is only black ballpoint bullet lists of writing stuff I want to accomplish. There’s household stuff in there, too, so for June, I will be splitting those into two different calendars. It usually stays on the kitchen table (my temporary desk) next to me, open, for easy reference, especially when new things like deadlines or interviews crop up during the day.
It’s also already allowing me to spot patterns. The day after my weekly chat with Melva is usually best as a lighter day. Since this week, we met on Tuesday, that means that today is a lighter day. It’s also a blog day. I can bypass the “what do I blog about” problem by noting beforehand things I find interesting and want to blabber about for an entry. Yesterday, it was this from my morning pages:
Today is a writing day!!! Not staring at a blank wall and cranking out words (Editing Anna interrupts: if that is your best way to work, this is not a drag on that. You do you. Crank on, you magnificent cryptid.) I would rather deck a sylvan glade with fairy lights and invite my imaginary friends (aka characters) to dance. The band would be Right Said Fred
and classic era Monkees
Coin flip for who headlines and who opens. I’m good either way. The dance floor lights in tune to the music, and there is a bottomless buffet off to the side, with mismatched chairs and settees arranged in conversation groups around an assortment of small tables. Besides their own songs, the bands cover “Dance With Me” as well as “Moondance” and “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.”
The air is not too hot and not too cold. It’s a night that could last forever, and, technically, it can. That’s one of the things I love about writing romance. Happily ever after means forever.
I’ll stop it for there, since I have been called back to the dance floor, as it were. The bands are jamming, the lights are twinkling, and the breeze feels like a kiss on my skin.
One more thing: you, yes you, are most definitely invited.
This morning, I found an important truth about my writing process. I would rather name a dozen historical characters than one contemporary one. Please remind me of that when it is time to name the heroine from A Heart Most Wanton, which will probably come sooner than I expect, because the way I am scheduling writing times now seems to be working.
Anyway, Melva and I are working on a contemporary collection with three stories. One hers, one mine, one ours. We have the ours one all worked out, and I can’t wait to see what her story will hold, which leaves only mine. Since I have met me, I know this has to have some sort of historical connection, or it is not at all happening. Do I know what that connection is? Ehhh, maybe? Kind of? Possibly? Whyever would I know something like that? Oh look, a kitty.
Make of that distraction what you will. As of this writing, my contemporary character naming process is not all that different from my historical naming process. Since all of my reference books are still in storage :weeps softly: that means I head to the interwebs. Figure out what year the character would have been born, find a list of most popular baby names from that year for their country of origin, and then open a random number generator. Generate a few numbers, write down the names that correspond to the numbers. Re-roll if needed, if you’ve hit a name that is on your automatic “no” list, or if it won’t fit this particular character or story. I personally don’t like to have hero and heroine’s names to start with the same initial, so whichever one of them comes first, that initial is out.
Melva’s and my collaborative process is a lot different. We throw names at each other and see what sticks. Seems to be working all right so far. With Chasing Prince Charming, our base for Meg’s name was that we wanted a one-syllable name. Since we had a heroine with a one-syllable name, we wanted to contrast that with a multi-syllable name for the hero, which is how we found Dominic.
Doing it on my own is…different. The vast majority of my contemporary romance reading is YA instead of adult, so I’m not finding adult names much in the contemporaries I read. For me, naming a character is important; grabbing popular names at random and slapping them down is not going to work for me. As a matter of fact, my list of “no” names for historicals (and probably carry them over to contemporary as well) are very popular in the genre…but they don’t work for me. It is what it is. So, what does work?
That’s a very good question. The name has to fit the character. That’s essential. Some characters do come with a name already, sit themselves down in a chair across from me, and introduce themselves. I am one hundred percent fine with that. I encourage it. I encourage it even when it involves a character telling me he doesn’t know what his name is, meaning the one given at birth. He has a thing that he’s called, sure, but it’s not his name. There is a difference. Yes, that has happened, and that’s one of the historicals I look forward to writing. Historical characters are pretty good about this sort of thing. I know where they come from, when they were born, which gives me a clear direction as to where to look for their names. Sometimes I will have to read through the entire section of possible/probable names until I find one that hits. Sometimes none of the contemporary to them (remember, historical characters don’t know they’re in a historical; they think they’re in a contemporary) and I go back an era or even more, to find a “traditional” name that may feel out of place for their time, but could well be a family name. the
With contemporary characters, of course I have an even longer span of history to work with, so it should be theoretically easier. Names I hear around me in everyday life. Names of friends, or their offspring, or even, for younger characters, their offspring’s offspring. Even so, I usually end up at “uhhhhh…..” as a starting point. Knowing the name helps me see the character in a visual sense. I don’t usually fantasy cast (and don’t get me started on the whole new barrel of worms that would be naming fantasy characters, so hats off to fantasy authors that do that every day) but I do have an image in my head. Height, frame, complexion, hair, eyes, facial features, manner of dress, etc.
Sometimes the image comes first, and the character makes me figure out their name, a la Rumplestilskin. None of my characters to date have actually been named Rumplestilskin. This is probably a good thing. Beyond the actual name, how do they feel about the name? Is that a name they like to hear? Do they feel that it fits them? Would they rather be called something else? If so, what? It’s not as simple as slapping a “hi, my name is X” (none of my characters to date have actually been named X yet, either.) on their shirt and calling it good enough.
Today is Housemate’s birthday, so it’s going to be a day of cavorting with some of her favorite activities. In the back of my mind, though, I am gestating the heroine for the “mine” story in the upcoming collection. Well, the proposal for it. Something to bring to the table when we confer. Anything can happen from there. What we call it, well, we’ll find that out.
This is partly Monday’s post and it partly isn’t. I’d intended to get a regulalr post up on Monday because A) that’s what Monday posts are for, and B) I like sharing my monthly planner setups (yes, plural) at the start of a new month, especially because things in general are feeling okay for the first time in a long time, and that is definitely something I want to share here. My brain, however, had other ideas. Honestly, sometimes my brain is kind of a jerk. At the very least, she gets weird homework.
All of that is a fancy way of saying that Sunday night, I had the worst nightmare I can remember having, ever, though I thankfully don’t remember much about it, and I’m okay now. Though it was not at alla fun experience, climbing out of it did have some benefits, odd as that may sound.
For a long time, pretty much as long as I have been planning, I haven’t known what all I, personally, want to do with the monthly calendar. What’s the point as long as I’m looking mostly at the weekly views? Post-nightmare doing stuff, however, means going for the low hanging fruit, and for me, that day, it was super functional planning, which meant monthly view, black ballpoint pen, put the things where I want to do them, and have a look at what spaces are avaiable for everything else.
The flower stickers came later, while I was figuring out what else I needed. Doing arty things is super good for my brain to work stuff out, so that was a good match. I listed the top writing priorities, and then got those things in first. Blank days don’t mean I have nothing planned; they mean I’m figuring out how to best use my time and will be moving tasks there from a master list. This view does include household things and important dates for other family members, so my writing planner will look a little different.
Though I do have flying into the mist as part of my writing and planning processes, on the whole, I like structure and specifics. Not “write today,” but “brainstorm Bob and Jane waiting room scene” or “revise Bob and Jane waiting room scene from rough present tense to polished past tense.” This way, the whole “ugggh, where do I begin?” stuff is out of the way at the time I plop myself in front of my notebook or keyboard, and I already know where I’m going before I set out on my journey. Bird by Bird, eat the elephant one bite at a time, and all that. Wash one dish.
Approaching things like this takes a lot of the pressure off, and reminds me that I really do love writing, particularly romance, and I have been told I am pretty okay at it. I could stand to do it more. The right process is the one that works for me, which is the one that gets me from once upon a time to they lived happily ever after. The fact that I find it a whole lot easier and more appealing if I have pretty visuals as I do it? I call that taking the scenic route.
This post is not about tableware. I have some funky dreams sometimes, and this last week, I had one of the memorable ones. Combine that with the need to unplug for a couple of days (aka why Monday’s post is here on Tuesday) which gave me the time to write privately about aforentioned dream, about blogging, and about how to get from here to there, and this post is the result.
Yes. I sleep exactly like that. Every night. Okay, not literally ,but I like the mood. Anyway, in this dream, I was personally responsible for all duties of a primary caregiver to multiple friends and family members at the same time. This included a childhood friend (whom I haven’t seen in years) who had been complicit in their own kidnapping with a charming significant other (who wasn’t that nice) and it all culminated in a kitchen full of dishes.
By full, I mean full. I don’t mean the sink was full of dirty dishes. I mean that it was overflowing the sink, the dish drainer, the counter space, the stove, the table, the chairs, every flat ?, dish upon dish upon dish upon dish. Every last dish in the house. The parent of the abovementioned friend had followed me into the kitchen, literally wringing their hands over what I was going to do about it all. There was some talking; I don’t remember it, but finally, I grabbed the closest dish at hand, turned on the tap, squirted a drop of dishwashing liquid, then grabbed my rubber duck scrubby brush. “I’m going to wash one dish,” I told them. They asked again, what was I going to do now? Once again, “I’m going to wash one dish.” Which I did.
I woke soon after that, so I don’t know how long it took to take care of everything, but the bit about washing one dish stuck. As my contemporary writing partner, Melva, asked me, what was I trying to tell myself? Not a lot of room for interpretation on that one. Which is fine. Bird By Bird, and all that. Makes sense. Low hanging fruit. Open the file. Thousand mile journeys and single steps and all that. Not exactly news, but it has parked itself at the forefront of my brain, which is not at all a bad thing.
I, personally, am highly motivated by all things stationery – pens, papers, notebooks, etc- and I love to organize. Again, not at all news. True, though, and something I can applly to the whole dish thing. Melva and I set a deadline to be done-done-done-ity-done with draft two of Drama King two weeks from yesterday. There’s also getting myself back in historical romance mode, because I feel like I’ve been circling the metaphorical airport for forever on that one, and I would like to land now, please and thank you.
Today is for this blog entry, the re-do of Melva’s and my ZoomerTimes interview re-do. I may have misnamed it previously as BoomerTimes, which in retrospect doesn’t make as much sense, since the interviews are conducted on Zoom. Prepareation for that is putting on my Actual Author cosplay garb. Hair, makeup, etc. After that, there may be a few domestic matters, possibly involving groceries, and most assuredly followed with cup of tea, a good historical romance, and kitty cuddles. That’s enough for one day.
Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re aawesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Exciting news this week, on a couple of fronts. Still working on the picture things, so I will get Aunt Anna to put important pictures of the week on Instagram, because there are some good ones.
First of all, Aunt Anna and Aunt Melva have a date for a do-over of their video interview with Boomer Times. That will happen on April 20th, now that Aunt Anna has her new glowy box that can use Zoom. I may or may not make a guest appearance, because the human who was in charge of the recording had his kitty with him when everything first started. I have a very good feeling about cat-positive journalism. We will let you know when the video is up, so you can watch whenever you are so inclined.
Aunt Anna is also taking a very fun workshop with Eryka Peskin about figuring out how to reconnect with things she’s always wanted to do. A lot of those have to do with writing and growing her brand. Mostly, that has to do with what kind of writer she is and the kinds of stories she has to tell, along with some planning stuff (that I will sit on.)
The biggest news on the feline front is that we now have a big box in the house. Some human furniture came in yesterday, and with it came the best part – a huge box. It is, of course, mine. I’ll explore the furniture that came in it later. I can be inside it, or on top of it, or I can scratch it with my claws. Cardboard is my favorite thing to scratch. I don’t scratch furniture. I am a good girl. I know the box can’t stay forever, but it will be here for a whilel and then there will be more boxes. The human furniture is called a storage trunk, and I am NOT allowed to go inside that, but the humans did put my cat bed on top of it, suggesting that I might be interested in sitting there, as it is near the end of Autn Anna and Uncle Rheuben’s bed. We will see about that.
On the reading front, Aunt Anna is moving through her Goodreads reading challenge, with 39 books read out of her goal of 90. and 12 books ahead of schedule as she hits 41% of the 90. She has figured out Audible Pllus very recently ,aka today, which means that she will get to listen to a lot of books while she does her blogging stuff. Also while playing Sims or surfing the interwebs.
Not while writing, though, because that is when she needs to focus on her own stories, not somebody else’s. This week, she gets to do one of her favorite writing things, and that is taking a bunch of notes and ideas and turning them into a scene that goes in the middle of some other scenes. That’s sometimes easier than completely new things, because she knows where the whole story is going and what job that scene has to do. Sometimes, also how long it has to be.
For those kinds of things, she likes to first get into the soft office, aka the beed (well, on top of it, not in it like sleeping) with a notebook and pens and an appropriate beverage. Also with me, because I am her mews and I need to be on top of everything. Literally.
Tomorrow, we will be doing some of that writing, and brainstorming video ideas. If Aunt Anna doesn’t want to hear people talking when she is writing, she can also listen to weather sounds even if that isn’t the weather that is really happening. I am not sure what to make of that but rain is her favorite, especially rain with cars driving on wet asphalt. There are other sounds, like carriage rides and crackling fires when she needs to be in a historical mindset. I, of course, add to it with very loud mototr purring, which is the most important sound.
That’s about it for right now, and I have a box to explore, so I will catch you next week.
Wednesday’s blog on Thursday should give an iindicator of how acgtual Wednesday went. I had the very odd (for me) experience of oversleeping yesterday, which gave an element of surreality to the entire day. I meant to blog. I meant to edit. I got most of my social media current and then played Sims.
Theoretically ideal wakeup time today, and since I get a feel for the things I need to do the next morning, the night before, the task list wasn’t too hard to make. Unfortunately when it came to “what do I want to blog about today?” the immediate answer was “the fluff if I know.” “Fluff,” in this case, being a family word for a word that rhymes with “duck,” and is not often said around small children.
In practice, butt in chair and fingers on keyboard allows me to move on down the list instead of beating myself up over not knowing what to write. Because I do. I do it every morning in my morning pages, aka free writing. That means whatever is in my head goes on the page. This morning, for example, I filled two entire pages out of arranging the pens in my ballpoint pen cup in rainbow order and writing down my opinions of each one. That’s all. Not earth shattering in importance or creativity, but I did it and came out of it ready to take care of this whole Thursday thing, or at least figure out my priorities.
Right now, they feel like a jumble. My main job ondraft two of Drama King is to look for missing scenes, smooth out rough ones, and get word count up to goal. For A Heart Most Errant, I need to get back to addressing the first round edits and get it back to my editor. I paid for her services. I should use them. I want to use them.
There is also prep work to be done for this upcoming Saturday, where I waill present my workshop, Play in Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys. This is my most popular workshop, and I love giving it. I also need to reacquaint myself, because ehhhh, it’s been a while. I could probably learn from taking my own workshop. Going back to the well, as it were, is usually a good idea.
Yesterday, I had to run some adult-y errands in the morning, and planned to attack my backlog of work like a valkyrie, but what did I do instead? Completely tear apart my shelves that hold notebooks, pens, paper, etc, and re-making them with the help of some distressed wooden crates, putting, as my mother would have termed it, “like with like.” I hated that term when I was younger, but Mom was on to something. This also means that my inability to find the set of A5 divider pockets I bought on that same outing extremely vexing because it’s not where it’s supposerd to be, even though the binder and papers are all ready for them to join the fray. I can only assume they are hiding because they know what I have in store. I don’t blame them. I also know me, and I know that utter chaos is the black moment that comes before things snapping into place. Aka, don’t sweat it, keep going.
Which is basically where it leaves me right now. I have work to do, soem right the fluff now, and soem that cam be done after. Butt on chair, fingers on keyboard. Stock photos are fine when bookshelves are not ready for their closeups. The important thing is to keep making progress in the right direction.