Every week or so I comment on my writing, how it's going, the frequent frustrations, the occasional successes. This is your invitation to watch a writer at work - and sometimes find out what I'm cooking for dinner.
My Writer's Journal
November 24, 2010
I'm a fiend for order, a demon for organization. I'm one of those people who thrive on routine--need it, in fact, in order to function. The first routine to be established once I'd unpacked was getting back to my morning walks. So now I head out the front door, turn left, and start walking--first through the downtown area, then past a few blocks of charming old bungalows, and finally into the Country Club neighborhood with some pretty upscale digs. On Christmas Eve they'll all be glowing with literally hundreds of luminarias, the candle-in-a-bag that's a custom here.
So far I've met a really handsome dog, a huge mastiff named Odin. I informed his owner, a guy about 20, that Odin was the name of the dog belonging to Count von Fersen, who was in love with Marie-Antoinette. He probably thinks he's run into the neighborhood eccentric.
Fifty minutes and about 2-1/2 miles later, I'm ready for the day. Order has been established.
November 14, 2010
Most of our new apartment is in order, I've figured out the phone system (sort of), and I'm loving my office with its panorama of cityscape, sky, and mountains. This is so different from my old office--I feel as though I'm in a kind of dreamworld.
Tomorrow I begin serious work on VICTORIA RULES. Soon the galley proofs of CLEOPATRA CONFESSES will arrive. And then maybe THE WILD QUEEN: MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS will come back for another go. So, after a long hiatus spent packing, cleaning, and unpacking, I'll be back in the writing life again.
November 8, 2010
A week ago today the movers arrived at 8:30 AM, while we were still madly packing. By 6 PM we were sitting dazedly in the new place, waiting for pizza to be delivered for our first meal. For the past week I have been alternating between unpacking the mountain of boxes: kitchen first, so we didn't have to eat pizza every night; then my clothes, so I could change to some clean ones, and now my office--and then dragging myself back to the old place to clean. Ugh! Both places were a mess, but I'm more concerned with the new one. Where am I going to put everything? My printer? My scanner? There's a new phone system that doesn't seem to work. I can't figure out the voice mail.
But I have one big box labeled QUEEN VICTORIA, and I've vowed that next week I'm going to have this place whipped into shape, and I'll turn into a writer again.