Keeping It Real

Often people ask what release day is like for an author. You have two choices. You can reload your Twitter feed and check your Amazon ranking constantly, or you can pretend like it's any other day and go about your business.

THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES released last Tuesday and I opted for the latter. First things first I went out and walked the yard because we had a decent storm a few days earlier and there were sticks that needed to be picked up. So I went about doing that and discovered a dead crow in the yard. Being a writer, I had a reaction.

Me: There's a dead crow in the yard.
Boyfriend: Do you want me to get it?
Me: I'm more concerned about what this could mean on my release day.
Boyfriend: *stares* Okay, I'll get it.

Then I checked my Twitter feed and Amazon ranking.

Then I did laundry, which has a particular zen to it because I hang my laundry outside to dry. I managed to forget it was a release day for about ten minutes, because nothing smells quite as good as wet laundry and sunshine. And then one of the cats came over to see me and and flopped over for a belly rub, so life was good.

Then I checked my Twitter feed and Amazon ranking.

Next it was time to do dishes, because there's a particular zen to that when you own a dishwasher. I had some mason jars that had herbs stuck to the bottom from the homemade pizza sauce that had been in them so I told the boyfriend we needed to go to town because I needed a scrubby thing on a stick.

Boyfriend: Right now?
Me: Or I could get on my laptop and check my -
Boyfriend: Okay, right now.

So I went "into town" (and yes, that's a phrase we still use out here in the country, all Laura Ingalls Wilder-like) and I got my scrubby on a stick, and Mr. Boyfriend decided he needed to buy some other things at the hardware store, so we went there. I remembered I wanted copper pipe for distilling essential oil out of my juniper bushes, so I distracted myself with a whole wall of copper pipe for about 10 minutes.

Then I pulled out my phone and checked my Twitter feed and Amazon ranking.

And then - amazingly - Paula Abdul was playing on the store music feed and I found out I still know all the words to "Straight Up," which led me down this path of thought about oral history and cadence, and how music and rhythm assist memory. It really is a particular kind of magic that you can hear a song you haven't heard in 25 years and still know every word. Boyfriend was attempting to figure out what size vent pipe he needed for a project while not listening to me sing and so...

I pulled out my phone and checked my Twitter feed and Amazon ranking.

Then we got coffee and I'm one of those people who rejoices at pumpkin spice time and doesn't mind that absolutely everything is pumpkin spiced right now. My road is being resurfaced as a I type this and I think they're using pumpkin spice. I'm thrilled.

I got home and pulled out the laptop. I had some emails from friends who also had books releasing that day, who were taking a break from checking their Twitter feeds and Amazon rankings to email me and ask me about my Twitter feed and Amazon ranking.

This is what release day is like.

It makes you neurotic and I enjoy every second.

The Power of Procrastination

There are two things I'm good at.

1) Writing
2) Not Writing

Seriously. I am so awesome at not writing I could write a book about it. Which would be really freaking ironic, wouldn't it?

Today I said I would start the new manuscript, writing at least 1k words, which is my minimum daily word count goal. There were other things I needed to do today too, but since writing is my actual job I needed to consider doing it.

And I would.

After I changed the bedsheets.
Also I needed to write a blog post.
And defrost a whole ham.
And coffee would be good.

I sat down with the coffee and the laptop, the sound of the washer tossing my bedding around in the background. I answered some emails, did some tweeting, realized I didn't brush my teeth yet, and then my dad called.

A tree fell down and he needed another chainsaw handler to get the job done. The tree in question was in my grandpa's yard, and if I didn't go over there, Grandpa (who is 94) would pick up the extra chainsaw himself. Now, honestly, I think that would've worked out just fine (evidence to come), but I'm the kind of person who really enjoys physical labor so I helped chop up a tree in 90+ degrees.

We worked for a few hours, and finally Grandpa decided he was done watching and picked up a 40 pound maul and started splitting wood. Like, really effectively. We're talking single swings. It was impressive.

I was sweaty and smelly and covered in chips and sawdust, but it was time to go home. And who can sit down and write when they smell bad? (Note: I still had not brushed my teeth). So since I was already a mess I decided to do some touch-up painting on the cupboards that we redid in the kitchen, and once I did that I decided since I had the ladder out I might as well spackle the holes in the ceiling from the old lighting.

And since I had the ladder out and it was obvious we were going to have to repaint the ceiling, I might as well take down all the crown molding and wash the ceiling to prep it for painting.

Also I had to go find the paint floor cloths, which someone had peed on (not me, I suspect a cat) and so those had to be washed and hung out on the line with the bedsheets.

So while I was working in the kitchen I spotted that whole ham I set out in the morning to defrost, which I really should consider putting in the oven if we're going to eat tonight. 

And if you're going to make a ham then you might as well (I'm sorry) go whole hog.

So I studded it with cloves and I made a glaze out of apple cider and I put that in the oven.

And then I took a shower, because that was a thing that needed to happen. Also I did finally brush my teeth. So, it's 7PM now. I'm clean. The ham just came out of the oven. The boyfriend is cutting it up and I'm finally writing that blog post I sat down to create at 10 AM.

I did a lot of things today.

I did not start a novel.

I am so good at not writing.

My Scar Is A Meh Face & Other Mindy Updates

Judging by the click rates, comments and general entertainment value of my post about being seriously injured, I should probably try to almost die much more often. Apparently it would be good for my career.

Given the amount of scars I have (idea - scar inventory) I can say with a fair amount of conviction that I will get hurt again fairly soon, and I'll be sure to let everyone know. Just FYI - I am going fishing later this afternoon.

I am healing quite well, thank you, and while I was inspecting the damage the other day I noticed that my scar is a meh face. It's not impressed. It thinks I could've done better. It's seen more dedication in divorce rates. It says, muscle was exposed but not bone, so stop bragging.

Elsewhere in my life, if you follow me on Twitter or Instagram you know that I did a lot of canning last week. I made a vegetable ladder of priorities in my kitchen, a thing that once done, cannot be undone. Count so far: 4 pints honey pickles, 3 quarts zucchini dill pickles, 2 jars blackberry jam, 18 pints pizza / spaghetti sauce, 8 quarts tomato juice, 3 quarts tomato soup, 3 quarts dried corn. 

Yes, you can come over when the world ends, but you need to know ahead of time that it's going to be like the Fight Club Paper Street house - you have to prove yourself on the porch. I'm thinking some sort of skill other than enduring patience. Also, there is no whining in the apocalypse. People always ask me who I am most like of all my characters, and the answer is probably Mother. That should help you decide whether or not you want to come over.