I feel like I lost an entire day, because it taken up with a visit to a hive of wretchedness and bureaucracy, terror and paperwork.
That’s right, we visited the DMV.
It wasn’t half bad. They have shifted to appointment-only for some things (coincidentally, the items we needed done) but we scored a few slots around the same timeand so could accomplish everything the family needed in one trip. I was braced for a lot of unpleasantness that didn’t happen, and I always like it when I’ve overprepared rather than the opposite.
In other news, I’ve put my current serial, Hell’s Acre, in Kindle Vella. What started out as an experiment with crowdfunding the writing of Roadtrip Z has turned into me having a dedicated slot in my writing schedule for an ongoing serial, and so far it’s worked out pretty well. The adventures of Ginny, Lee, Juju and the gang gave way to HOOD, and now Hell’s Acre. So I guess you could say the experiment is working out well.
I love this way of writing, because not only do I get to tackle longer, more complex stories trad publishers probably wouldn’t take a chance on, but also get to show my beloved Readers and subscribers a lot of what happens behind the curtain and under the hood. It’s a great way for readers to see how a story grows, and what changes between the initial idea and the final, finished book. I’m curious to see how the Vella thing works out.
In other other news, Harmony is $3.99 across ebook platforms until December 1. I like running sales, and I am under strict orders to do some more marketing. (Very strict. Like, Box of Shame strict.)
After the crashing realization that I am, indeed, reduced to only being able to work on one project at a time for some short while, I’ve rearranged said writing schedule a bit. “Go until burnout and then back off two paces” really isn’t optimal, though I don’t seem to have any other setting. Or, rather, it would be a little less suboptimal if Current World Events weren’t also kicking my emotional ass.
Writing takes energy–physical, mental, emotional, and I daresay even spiritual. Carefully shepherding and guarding that energy from a world desperate to tear it away is an ongoing balance, requiring constant vigilance and readjustment. At least, it’s that way for me; I’m not sure about other wordwrights.
On the bright side, the atmospheric river is bringing all sorts of rain our way. It’s grey and positively filthy outside, I love it. The dogs will be nonplussed during walkies–well, Miss B, being an all-weather pooch, will be quite sanguine, though I’m sure her joints ache a bit. Boxnoggin despises water falling from the sky, poor fellow. He thinks his beloved Mum is responsible for it, that for some incomprehensible reason I’m making the sky drench us all.
I wish I had even a fraction of the power that dog apparently thinks I possess. Or maybe I don’t, because I’m not sure I could be trusted to use it responsibly. My ongoing thought experiment of “what would happen if I had pyrokinesis?” rather bears out that caution, because they all end with me cackling in pleased fury.
In any case, walkies must happen no matter how much Boxnoggin would like them to be dry year-round, and I’ve my own weary corpse to run in the rain. Peeling out of my running togs before slithering into a warm shower will be glorious today, but I’ve got several kilometers to go before that’s an option and I’m not sure whether this persistent headache is sinuses, stress, or low blood sugar.
Time to get started.