My TreeHouse studio.
Welcome to January in North Carolina.
I don’t have A.D.D., but I am finding it hard to concentrate today. My desk is right next to a window, and I catch myself staring out at the landscape every two seconds, just to see if a stray snowflake might be drifting by. So far, no dice. This is a far cry from the childhood I spent a few miles east of Lake Erie, where we had two seasons: winter and July.
But today is a “snow day” in North Carolina—and that means the declaration of a State of Emergency. Panicked shoppers everywhere are out braving a half dozen ice pellets to invade grocery stores and stock up on bread, eggs, and milk.
What is it about the threat of winter weather that makes people develop a sudden hankering for French toast?
This, likely, is a question for Stephen Hawking. I’ll tag him in this blog post, and maybe he’ll offer an explanation.
So today, I am making hay while the sun…hides. I’m working on the outline for my new novel, Backcast, and thinking about how far away May…isn’t. May is my self-appointed deadline for getting the manuscript into my editor’s hands. She of the Vegan Lavender Cake has decreed that the book will NOT see the light of day by summer if she don’t get it in May.
Early May.
So I sweat and I toil and I grapple with howinthehell I’m going to have fifteen fully-developed protagonists come to
life in a dozen chapters.
Oh…and did I mention that I’m also reading a book called Largemouth Bass Fundamentals, Volume 1?
Yes. Volume 1.
Meaning there’s a Volume 2.
And maybe a Volume 3.
Sometimes I think there IS no god.
But there is a spot of good news to be had. At least, I hope it will be perceived as good news. My publisher has decided to release the novella “Bottle Rocket” as a standalone eBook and paperback. “Bottle Rocket” is the prequel to Backcast—so there’s a method to our madness here. Yes, it’s true. The CLIT-Con 13 will soon be scandalizing a bookstore near you. Kate, Shawn, Quinn, Viv, Cricket, and V. Jay-Jay (with a cameo appearance by Barbara Walters) will shortly be unleashed on an unsuspecting public.
This might be another reason to circle the wagons and lay in stores. If all else fails, and the book lays an egg (cover art, notwithstanding)—we can always make French toast.
Wait…Was that a snowflake???
6 comments
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Barrett
January 26, 2013 at 1:05 pm (UTC -4) Link to this comment
I love french toast.
Ann McMan
January 27, 2013 at 7:12 am (UTC -4) Link to this comment
Thankfully, Josette stands at the ready — eager to satisfy all your epicurean cravings.
Marguerite
January 25, 2013 at 5:41 pm (UTC -4) Link to this comment
Two seasons indeed. That was once near Lake Michigan, too. Thanks for the long gone memory.
Ann McMan
January 26, 2013 at 6:35 am (UTC -4) Link to this comment
Yes…remember going outside dressed like the Michelin man?
Laurie Salzler
January 25, 2013 at 5:40 pm (UTC -4) Link to this comment
Where’d you grow up? I’m from those same few miles east of Lake Erie.
Ann McMan
January 26, 2013 at 6:37 am (UTC -4) Link to this comment
Cue Twilight Zone music! I’m from a small town on the Allegheny River called Warren. Ring any bells? It’s about five miles south of Jamestown, NY.