Rattledark Morning

I unplugged yesterday and went to the Hulda Klager Lilac Gardens. (Though I mostly took pictures of camellias.) It’s early yet–things won’t reach full blooming for a week, week and a half–but the weather was perfect and the crowd was light. I got to touch a monkey puzzle tree, too. Did you know their trunks are all cracked, and red sap lingers in the crevices? Like blood. And their branches twist wonderfully. I’ve never been able to get close to one before, so it was pleasant to make this one’s acquaintance.

Yesterday’s lilac-viewing weather has shifted somewhat. Spring is the season of unsettled clouds, and I woke to thunder shaking the house. I could feel the vibrations through my bed, and later against my soles while standing in the kitchen making coffee. Boxnoggin is very unhappy with this; skybooms are definitely not his favorite things. Gentle pats and coaxing are all I can give him, as well as a safe place to hide. For my part, I’m humming Eddie Rabbitt.

Today it’s back to proof pages, then I dive right back into revising the second book in an epic fantasy trilogy. Once that’s done, there’s a full revise on Hell’s Acre, and then I can move to prepping for the next serial. I still haven’t decided if Avery and Gemma’s adventures will see wider publication; the decision will have to wait until I’ve had a chance to go through, revise the whole corpus (two seasons’ worth of story!) and sent the first season to my agent for her opinion.

Delayed gratification. It’s what publishing is all about.

If you attended the Fountain Books launch event for Spring’s Arcana, you’ll know I made an announcement about the next serial. If you didn’t, I’ll make another announcement in a while…but I will also tease with this.

…I am terrible, I know. I’m very excited. But I don’t want to do a huge fanfare too soon. Waiting for the schedule is such a pain, though since I’ve gotten through one big wicket lately I’m eager to move through a few more. My own impatience is the hardest to bear.

It’s grown quite dark though the rumbles of thunder have faded somewhat, and the birds have all taken shelter. They sense the change in barometric pressure, naturally. I should get some breakfast. Walking poor Boxnoggin will have to wait. He was quite put out that I was gone yesterday–there were only two humans in the house to serve his every whim–and now there’s unsettled weather interfering with his walkies. How will he ever endure?

I suppose I’ll have to do some proofing while waiting for it to pass. There are worse things on a Thursday morn.

See you around.