There was a bit of a cover reveal yesterday–A Flame in the North got shown on Insta and Twitter, et cetera. (Subscribers have already seen bits and pieces of that book, plus the one after it.) I can’t really think about that right now with the release of Salt-Black Tree looming so close; getting release-day nerves for two books at once might well do me in.
In other good news, my shower is bone-dry. The dripping has indeed stopped, hallelujah and pass the butter. It wasn’t a huge problem–though whenever there’s a leak it’s only a matter of time before it accelerates–but now I don’t have to listen to water plonk-plonk-plonking while attempting to sleep. Consequently last night was very restful indeed, save for Boxnoggin being a bit miffed since it’s too warm for him to stick his nose in my armpit.
I never thought I’d see the day he didn’t want to cuddle with his schnozz in my axillary area, or even pressed against my jugular. Humans are so very odd; we think nothing of letting canid predators get their teeth close to that vulnerability. Of course, Box can’t even fathom the possibility of snacking on my entrails at the moment. I think he has a dim intimation that doing so would rob him of the cushy deal he’s got going on with regular walkies, cuddles, and bacon grease in his bowl all the time.
The wild isn’t calling this dog, no sir, or if it is he’s put her on hold.
So the score is: I’m finally running without the ankle brace; the bloody leak has been fixed (on the first try, even!); one book is due out next month; the Tolkien Viking Werewolves are finally inching towards their time in the sun. I should feel grand. In fact, I should feel damn near invincible.
Maybe it’s just free-floating anxiety, but all I’m feeling is the breathless sensation of waiting for another shoe to drop.
At least I found the next few scenes in both Highlands War and Gamble. I think there might have to be a fight in the former, which I’ll need to block out rather carefully. The latter is in the cat-and-mouse bit of a romantic suspense arc, so it needs a good double-cross relatively soon. Of course, after this upcoming weekend I have to shift gears, get the waiting revision for Sons of Ymre 2 dealt with–and good gods, that book feels like it was done ages ago–and turn back to writing fresh stuff again, probably within a matter of days. Good thing I’m used to working a creative clutch, so to speak.
I have a hazy idea for YouTube Live write-ins, but that might not come to fruition. I am far too solitary a creature. Still, I’ve been bowled over by the response to the short question-and-answer livestreams, so maybe that’s a thing that can happen. The trouble is, I have a face for radio and I am most definitely not a breathless, constantly yelling “influencer”. So it probably won’t work…but I’m kicking around the idea, just in case. You guys seem to like witnessing the creative process, though to me it’s almost boring because all the action is happening inside my skull.
Adapt or perish, swim or drown. Even my capacity for sudden change has been a bit strained in the past few years. It seems like things are turning around…unless, of course, the violent authoritarians pull more bullshit and the habitually supine centrists let them. Can’t worry about that right now, I have too much else on my plate.
So I suppose it’s off to walkies, getting a run in before the heat gets too awful, and a day of getting Kaia Steelflower through a duel (verbal or otherwise) as well as setting up a double-cross for a member of the Ghost Squad. In between all that I have to feed myself and get a few chores done. I’ll be scrabbling like a white rabbit, though there’s no Alice in sight.
Off I go then, revving the engine and popping the gearshift from first to third. Hop, hop, hop…