The prisoner

Long-haired tabby cat lying on his back on the carpet
Long-haired tabby cat lying on his back on the carpet
Sir Fluffy McFlufferson

This is the poor soul dealing with cat mats. He’s also the one that managed to get stuck for the entire day in a closet. And not just any closet, the one with access under the bathtub, and thus to the crawlspace between the second floor and first. We’ve now had discussions on kitty headcounts and mealtimes. When one doesn’t show, it’s time to start hunting him down. We have several closets, and like magic, the furry brothers manage to get caught in them, no matter how careful we are. He seems to be fine now, though he was a bit dirty and quite hungry and thirsty at first. He’ll be skittish for a while, but we’ll sneak in calming love and attention as we can. Then, back to the mats.


May Review

May was over yesterday, and it completely slipped by me that I had this to do. Even though I keep a Bullet Journal, a planner designed to keep me on track and let me know what things must be done when, I still forget little things. That’s human. I must keep reminding myself of that.

So my words, fiction or otherwise, were so much lower than I want. I didn’t grind to a halt entirely, but my output was so sad, I would like to throw out a couple four-letter descriptives. But I won’t.  Because that won’t help. But I still want to. So there.

Let’s see – in May I wrote 6,107 fiction words, my slowest month yet by a good 3,000 words. I had three times more words in January, and twice as many in March, April splitting the difference between the two. My average fiction words per day was a sluggish 197 for may, and it settled down to 413 per day for the year.

Blog words ran high at 10,691, slightly higher than April by just a couple hundred. What can I say? Apparently, I’m better at blathering on about nothing than I am at turning stories. Well, I’m at least more comfortable with it. I don’t worry so much about what’s going down, and I look forward to getting that comfortable with my writing. I’m good at telling stories. It’s easy to forget that.

My best writing day was rather recently, May 29th, with 657 words. Memorial Day, so that makes sense, as I had the day off. The only story I wrote on all month – plugged on, chugged on, slowly dripped words on – was 004. Bleh.

I also managed to publish Space Cats from Space this month, in print and ebook on a variety of sites. I’m still working on publishing A Brief History – the print book is waiting for me to receive the proof copy, and the ebooks are waiting for the same. I always find lots of things to fix in the print copy that I never see anywhere else.

May was generally a busy month, with lots of extracurricular things going on that did not directly revolve around me or my writing. I made a mean chauffeur, though, ferrying others around to the things that needed doing, and spent a lot of my down time with Minecraft and more recently, a rewatch of Downton Abbey.

My goal for May was to get all the things published, and I didn’t manage it. My goal from June is simply to write more words than May. I need a small goal I can manage.

JUST IN: Cat Gets Scared Off by New Brush

206 fiction words, 498 total words, 0 hours on publication

In a somewhat unsurprising turn of events, the fluffy kitty that needs help managing his matted fur is not thrilled with the prospect of letting me brush and pull at those mats with the new fur rake that arrived yesterday. It does a wonderful job thinning his undercoat, though, which I imagine is a bit of a relief in this weather, and will be appreciated as the house gets warmer with the oncoming summer.

Zero publishing yesterday, but 206 fiction words and 498 total words. I’m plugging. That’s all that can be said. I’ll find my speed again, I know it. (I’m going to keep telling myself that.

So in the story I’m working on now (004 for now) has got a rather grumpy evil type and a rather bouncy hero type. The grump a man is my age (40-ish), living in a big empty house with a big, serious butler and a bunch of money (ill-gained, perhaps, but still). The bouncy hero type is a young girl (8 years old), orphaned (apparently), and oblivious to the grump’s bad moods. Their relationship is quite irritated-as-f* uncle vs bright and shining brat. Naturally, it’s more idolized and heroic uncle vs lost and loney child from the other perspective, but I’ve been focusing on him first. We’ll get to her a bit later. When it’s a bit too late, perhaps. I’m not sure exactly where the story is going, but I do have that much.

Okay, well, it’s time to move my morning forward. I hope everyone has a lovely Friday! I plan to.