I meant to get a lot more in the way of actual writing done yesterday, but instead it developed that the website needed some revamping. You may even have noticed the new monthly sales page, because doing a blog post every month was getting to me. This way I can just point at the page and be done with it, and the links won’t get stale. Also, I needed a gallery on the landing page proper, plus some fiddle-foolery with the page covers in specific, and there was a metric tonne of back-end stuff that had to be done in order for everything to hang together nicely.
So…that was all done, and I can cross “site maintenance” off the monthly to-do list. (Yes, I have a lot of lists. So many lists. Lists, lists everywhere, and not a drop to drink…) A bunch of other invisible backstairs stuff has also been Dealt With, and I won’t have to do it again until…ugh, next month or so, I suppose.
However, I did get basic wordcount on both projects, and managed a setup of the conversation Kaia needs to have with the minstrel Gavrin (he of the emotional landmine delivered through song, yes) in The Highlands War, as well as the pole-dancing class that I wanted to show in Gamble. Both scenes can be approached today and what comes directly after them is murder, so that might be why I’m chipping away at setup.
Everything has to be just right for the explosion of violence that will kick off major plot action.
Despite the frustrations, yesterday was actually…pretty good? I got a run in on the treadmill, very slow and staggering with a tranche of ibuprofen and my ankle brace wrapped tight. It was fucking wonderful and I can’t wait to do it again today, I needed those endorphins. My zen climbed to reasonable levels once I finished, the sweat had a metallic edge of stress being purged, and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Hopefully this is a stage in recovery and no rein jury will occur. I’m being very slow and conservative, and won’t run outside until I’m absolutely sure there will be no buckling or nonsense from either bloody ankle.
It’s not their fault. I’m just older now, plus I’m overweight and I like to run, so naturally there’s going to be a point or two on the old corpse that has a bit of difficulty. Fortunately I have invested in compression and a brace, so I’m well prepared for any problems. Unless, of course, a different joint decides to go haywire.
Bodies are weird.
I’ve had several requests for a livestream on the Valentine series–and one on the Steelflower series as well–so that’s in the works. I have to think about just how to do it, and if I want to put the result up on YouTube. It feels kind of weird to be talking about my own books instead of gushing over other authors’, but the requests have become a constant thing…so maybe I’ll do it. The stream(s) will go up on Twitch first, because that’s easiest, and I’m not sure if I want to schedule them or just let them happen naturally when I have a few minutes.
Choices, choices. I also want to do more longform writing about Assorted Stuff that isn’t daily blogging here, but we’ll see. There are so many good ideas, but they all have to take a backseat to writing the damn books. If not for the precarity of a creative career, I probably could be doing all these fun things, but survival (as always) comes first.
The coffee is down to dregs, but Boxnoggin isn’t stirring yet. He’s still a bit irate; any sudden change in weather throws him off. He adores sticking his nose into wet shrubbery, naturally, but views actual water-falling-from-the-sky bit as a cruel joke perpetrated by his all-knowing and omnipotent Human for incomprehensible reasons. Every time it changes from a spate of dry weather to drizzle or gods forbid actual rain, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever witnessed such a wonder and actually, Mum, he isn’t sure he likes it at all.
Poor fellow. We’ll be back to sunshine soon enough, and he’ll have a grand time at the park. First, though, we’ve got to get through this particular day.
I suppose we’d best get started…