Category Archives: The Starbucks My Destination

Enemy of Pants

I’ve never really been one of those “case of the Monday’s” people.  In fact, my personal weekly timeline runs thusly:


Monday – Not so bad.  You’re only a day past the weekend.  Coasting on weekend fumes, even.

Tuesday – Well, still, only a couple days past the weekend, and nobody’s complaining about Monday anymore.

Wednesday – Middle of the week!  You’re gonna make it!  It’s all a slow slide into the weekend, now.

Thursday – Friday Eve.  Enough said.

Friday – Is this even a day?  It never feels like one to me.  More a chance to ramp up my to-do lists for the weekend.

So, as you can see, I apparently put all my living towards two days out of the seven allotted to me each week.  Not really, of course.  I’m really, really busy, and there’s no way I could get by that way.  But I can always look forward to the stretch of hours over the weekend, where I can apply butt to chair and write without needing to do anything else.

I’m still a little slower on Monday.  It takes me a few extra minutes to write up the Tower of To-Do, and I maybe gaze blearily at the internet for a bit longer, wondering what sort of fuckery the week is waiting to unleash upon us.  But I don’t dislike the day itself.

Nope. I dislike having to put on real trousers and leave my nest. There’s just far too much “world” out here.  I’m not a fan. I think I could manage it a bit better if I didn’t have to deal with the pants.

Ah well. The best thing about Monday is that Monday night is Writing Night.  And the best thing about Monday afternoon?  Totally Music Monday:


WIP Wednesday – In Which February Utterly Escapes Me

I sat down this morning, had a browse around the intern, and was walloped upside the head with the realization that next week, I will have a paperback on shelves.  (Well, we, but for the purposes of this post, I’m being self-centered.)

I’ve been in anthologies that went to print.  In fact, every anthology I’ve been in went to print, and I have a lovely little stack of books that don’t have my name on them, tucked into the Magical Mystery Desk.  But this is the first time I’ve been able to look up at that stack of books and see my own name on some of the spines.

The paperback release of The Slipstream Con has been overshadowed by the frantic, breakneck pace and inevitable post-project come-down of finishing the next Ylendrian book, Peripheral People.  Both books are dear to me, for very different reasons, but let’s be honest: There’s no use pretending I’m not a Kellen Frey fangirl.  Or I would be, if I didn’t have the joy of writing the little bastard.

After taking the night off on Monday (horrors!) and spending most of last night fiddling with promotional things (augh!), tonight it’s back to business.  I haven’t decided what I’m going to work on, but there’s this lovely little post-Slipstream short story we’ve got in the queue, and I’m thinking it might be time to visit with Kellen again.  Just to make sure he’s staying out of trouble, mind you.  (Spoiler: He’s not.)

Tomorrow, we’ll talk about that promotional stuff.  It involves cupcakes and coffee, which I’m sure will garner me a few points, right?

Oh, In(tro)verted World

I have a very happy life.  A wonderful, enduring partnership, a supportive family who loves me.  Great friends, some whom I’ve known for years, and others that I get to know better all the time.  I have the time to pursue my writing, both solo projects and with my charming co-author, Michelle.  I’m comfortable, and I have routines that make me happy.

Routine in general makes me happy, as anyone who has ever tried to make last-minute plans with me can attest.  Lately, my routine has become the same go to work-come home- go back to work (write)- come home- sleep- repeat  almost every day.  It’s productive, it’s comfortable, it varies from time to time, certainly, but sometimes I wonder if it’s only giving rise to some of the downsides of loving routine, like anxiety when the routine is altered, or an inability to look outside the norm for new experiences.

To that end, I’m planning to have some Adventures soon.  This weekend, I’ve organized the first Formal Attire Miniature Golf outing with some friends.  Next weekend, it’s the Maryland Renaissance Festival.  The following weekend isn’t booked, but Monday the 31st is Halloween, and I’m going to a concert that night.

I think routine is great.  I’m a Virgo, amongst my many other foibles, and I like lists, and order.  I’m just also one of those foofy artists types, who thinks that different places create different thoughts, and different experiences create, period.  The fact that I’ve annexed my local Starbucks (hi everyone, I love you all!) as an office, while technically fulfilling the requirement for the whole “leaving the house” thing, isn’t really an Adventure, so much as a habit.  (A very, very productive habit.  We’ve now written almost three novels in that Starbucks, and I’ve got the bloodshot eyes and Gold Card membership to prove it.)

I live in the suburbs, and though it will strike me forever from the rolls of the cool, I must admit, I really enjoy it.  I lived both rural and metropolitan as a kid, in the middle of the city of San Jose, and the middle of nowhere in Hawaii.  I’m okay with the middle ground, because it means I can take advantage of both, without having to drive 45 miles to buy groceries, or getting shot walking to school.  (Sorry, San Jose.  You were kind of the pits when I lived there.)

It’s just actually remembering to do something outside my little bubble of Same that gets me.  So here’s to bursting your own bubble, and finding an Adventure to embark upon.  If you’ve got a suggestion, I’m open.