But when close to twenty percent of Denny's go under, you know the shit has hit the fan.
For those of my readers outside of the U.S., Denny's is a chain modeled after the classic 1950's diners. Greasy food, black coffee, and shakes. Not exactly healthy, but comfort food after a late night partying or when you're pregnant and can't keep anything else down.
(Don't ask me why on that last one. It's the one place my stomach could tolerate when I had morning sickness and after I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes.)
I wasn't surprised when my sales dropped shortly after Tribblehead's inauguration. The same thing had happened during his first term, and that's accounting for me doing elder care for the in-laws.
But this time around, things are much, much worse. ICE is kidnapping brown folks, whether they're legally in the U.S. or not. White folks don't want to admit brown folks are the backbone of the restaurant business.
The quality of a lot of restaurants' food has gone downhill, especially fast-food joints. The last Big Mac I ate had more special sauce than burger. My last two sandwiches from Arby's were not cooked all the way through.The last cheesy fries I ordered from Wendy's were. . .let's just say there was a quarter inch layer of oil in the bottom of the container making the fries very, VERY soggy.
Look, I've had diabetes and been immunocompromised for the last twenty-six years. But I still treat myself once in a while. But even DH was grossed out the last three times we hit a fast food place. And he has a cast-iron stomach. Needless to say, I've been cooking cheeseburgers, pizza, and tacos from my own recipes at home, and not just because it's cheaper and healthier.
Which brings me to my second point. With retail prices for everyday needs staying near the levels they were during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, people don't have the extra money for eating out. And if my experiences with really shitty take-out are any indication, people just aren't going to splurge at those restaurants anymore.
It's not just Denny's closing thousands of stores. I scrolled through other restaurant news. McDonald's sales are down as is everyone else's in the fast food market. Red Lobster nearly collapsed. In fact, the one in our town was originally slated for closer, but somehow, they found a CEO who pulled them out of the tailspin. By the way, the new CEO is . . .what for it. . . . . . . .brown!
In the meantime, DH and I aren't wasting money at these franchises anymore. We've been patronizing locally-owned restaurants at the rare times we go out, mainly out of a sense of self-preservation. I don't feel like dying from fast-food food poisoning. I've got a ton of books to write.
My feelings right now are fairly complex. My son is stationed on a U.S. base in the Middle East. He was supposed to be rotated stateside later this summer. We don't know if that will happen as scheduled.
To make matters worse, Tribblehead (no, I will not be respectful to a convicted felon who has no remorse) cut quite a bit of funding to the Army for fun stuff like sports equipment. Our soldiers believe in themselves, their jobs, and their country, not necessarily in that order. They were already under a lot of stress. They need a healthy way to deal with that stress, and Tribblehead and the DOGE bros took that away from them.
I fear for these kids' health, both mentally and physically. All of them, not just Genius Kid. I've seen the toll on them first-hand, and that's not even including death and maiming if a full-scale war breaks out.
Which it's likely to do with Tribblehead at the helm.
So, that's why I've been burying my head in writing over the weekend. Going to Starbucks because DH and I are feeding each other's anxiety, and the Grandpuppy and Princess Pup are picking up on our emotions which sends them in a tailspin.
Yes, I'm channeling my fears into Anthea, who's trying to keep a civil war from breaking out in Jing without interfering with their autonomy. It's a delicate tightrope. One she's determined to cross successfully or die trying.
That's what I need right now. A leader who actually gives a shit about the people around her.
I wish the kids in the military had a leader who gave a shit about them.
The stories I've been hearing from writers that have dealt with 1 Paragraph over the last four months is nothing short of appalling. The rights' grabs includes merchandising, performance rights, and moral rights.
If you don't know what any of these are and you're a writer, please PLEASE get a copy of The Copyright Handbook by Stephen Fishman, J.D. You don't need a legal degree to understand it. It's written is plain English and easily understandable.
For me, the biggest problem in the contract is the moral rights. Moral rights last for the term of copyright, but what does "moral rights" mean? It means the writer has the right to have their work attributed to them, the right to object to derogatory treatment of the work, the right not to be identified as the author of someone else's work, and the right to privacy.
Moral rights can be confusing, so let's break them down with examples:
1) The right to have the work attributed - It means if a third-party publishes A Question of Balance, my name (or pseudonym) needs to be listed as the author. The third-party publisher cannot say Stephen King wrote A Question of Balance.
2) The right to object to derogatory treatment of the work - A third-party publisher cannot alter, remove, add, or adapt the work. For example, suppose the third-party publisher objects to any mention of the LGBT+ community. They cannot go through A Question of Balance and remove any references to berda or change Sister Dragonfly of Love to anything but a trans woman character.
Or perhaps, the publisher doesn't like the fact that Anthea and Luc's sex scenes fade to black, and they decide to add sex scenes that put Debbie Does Dallas to shame. Nope, nope, nopity-nope. They cannot do that.
3) The right not to be identified as the author of someone else's work - This is basically the opposite of the first term. Say that third-party publisher tries to publish A Question of Balance under Stephen King's name because they think it will sell more copies. (It won't because Stephen King fans aren't that fucking stupid, but that's a story for another day.) Stephen King has every right to, and probably will. sue the crap out of the publisher.
4) The right to privacy - No, that doesn't mean you can hide who you are as a writer. (Well, you can, but that's a whole 'nuther blog post.) What this means is if I write a Justice story just for my friend Angie, it doesn't mean I HAVE to publish for the rest of the world to read.
(Not that I'd ever do something like that to my readers. However, I have written private erotic for my husband that will never see the light of day because it was just for the two of us.)
The EU covers moral rights more thoroughly in their legislation, but moral rights exist in the U.S. as well. They cannot be transferred or assigned, but they can be waived. The problem is you have no idea of how someone will use your work.
Say it with me, kids! MAKE SURE YOU READ YOUR CONTRACT!! If you don't understand it, hire someone who does to explain it to you!
Did I plan to submit to one of these magazines? Yes. Will I now? Not until they get a new owner because I don't trust these idiots.
Which brings me to another point, all five magazines are still up for sale. In other words, the new owners don't have a vested interest in making these magazines work. So what's the point in submitting anyway?
It doesn't help when I get up at seven a.m. for class. Wednesday's class used to be at ten a.m., then nine, and now eight.
The endorphins from the class only stretch so far. I stopped for breakfast and a writing session at Starbucks after class. After getting home around eleven a.m., I started into e-mail. . .
. . . and promptly fell asleep in my recliner.
DH had to wake me up a quarter after three because we'd already bought tickets to see The Phoenician Scheme. (That will be reviewed here next Monday.) It was sunny and beautiful when we left the cinema. As soon as we got home, I started supper.
And it immediately got very dark outside. A fast-moving storm system blasted through our area along with thunder, lightning, and the county tornado sirens howling. Because heat also does queer things to the weather.
The county's system is directly linked with the National Weather Service ("NWS"). It gives residents a chance to get to shelter. Yet, the NWS is another service the current leader of our country wants to defund.
Such an action infuriates me because I remember the Xenia Tornado of 1974. It was what would now be described as an F5 storm. The folks in Xenia had no warning unless they saw the broadcast from a Dayton television station. No sirens existed at the time in town.
This Super Outbreak affected twelve other states besides Ohio and dropped over 100 tornadoes across several hundred miles. Data gathered from this outbreak was used to push funding through Congress for both the NWS and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration ("NOAA"). Both organizations do their best to get warn people to get out of Mother Nature's way.
We're still in peak tornado season here in Ohio. Hurricane season has started in the state surrounding the Gulf of Mexico. Without advanced warnings from NWS and NOAA because of budget cutting, much less the departments being eliminated, how many lives will be lost over the next few years?
Normally, I avoid any political commentary on my blogs. But as the title says, it's no longer just politics.
Not when unidentified men break into homes, seize people and belongings, and disappear. Not when illegal gases are used to subdue peaceful protesters. Not when a single burning car is used over and over as propaganda to justify sending the U.S. military into Los Angeles.
You see, I'm old enough to remember Kent State. Ohio's Governor James Rhodes sent armed National Guardsmen to quell a protest at Kent State University. The soldiers claimed the students threw a rock. One rock.
They retaliated by opening fire on the students. Four unarmed kids died that day. And even though I wasn't even in kindergarten yet, I understood the slogan "Don't trust anyone over 30."
And now, I'm way over 30. I was brought up by people who served the public. People who were local government leaders. People who served at polls. People who fought in foreign countries.
I swore to uphold the U.S. Constitution three times in my life. My son took the same oath when he joined the military.
And now. . .
I see a group of idiots attempting to destroy the country.
And it royally pisses me off. I'll admit the idea that everyone is created equal still needs some work in this country. But to blatantly ignore someone's citizenship or green card and send them to a prison on a different continent?
What the fuck!
To have a military parade to please our leader?
We mocked the U.S.S.R. for doing that shit!
To arrest a member of Congress for attempting to speak with a director of an executive office?
To assassinate a member of a state legislature?
To claim the right to publicly assemble is illegal?
When I traveled down to the Carolinas to visit friends and family in March, someone I've known since the 80s asked me if I thought the U.S. was becoming fascist. I said, "We already are. People just haven't realized it yet."
Now, people are starting to realize it.
But is it too late to change course?
Only you can answer that question.
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Why?
Because DH's dad slipped important documents in between his children's memorabilia.
Very important documents.
Like driver's licenses, tax returns, birth certificates, and social security cards. Some needed to be kept since they were DH's or his sisters'. Others should have been destroyed decades ago such Grandma T's personal info. One of our neighbors teased me about selling the info on the dark web, but after DH and I had our identities stolen once, I didn't find the joke quite as funny.
Anyway, we had to go through things carefully on two fronts. One was the important personal documentation. The other was the mold and mildew growing on things despite the colder than normal temps since the flooding.
(N95 masks are worth their weight in gold, people! Thankfully, I still had some leftover from the pandemic!)
Then we had to document all the losses. Part of what made me sick was losing a good chuck of the in-laws' movie collection. DH and I are both avid movie buffs. His parents were as well, and they had VHS tapes of a lot of classics.
(Don't laugh. I still have all the Star Trek:TOS and NextGen movies on VHS. And yes, we still have a couple of VHS players.)
The also had a bunch of Disney animated movies for when the grandkids visited. Some that are no longer available. I know in the age of streaming people don't like physical copies, but my Gen X heart loves them because I never know when some wet-behind-the-ears exec is going to take one of my favorites of their streaming service.
E.g. I can't find Dharma & Greg, one of my all-time favorite shows, on any streaming service at the moment. I'd barely gotten through the first season when Hulu yanked it last year.
In between the sorting and washing, I managed to get a few thousand words done. Now that the adjuster came to check out everything (no, it wasn't Jake, it was Zach from State Farm), we can move on with life.
That mean getting the damn HVAC motherboard replaced before we hit the 90s in Ohio!
And it's ten 'til midnight. There's so, SO much to do.
Honestly, I'm just tired of my house being a total mess. Every time I get one thing accomplished, one room cleaned, hell, even one surface cleaned off, I turn around and everything's back to the mess it was. Living in a mess does things to my mind, and I simply cannot concentrate.
Tomorrow. I'm going to hide at Starbucks for a couple of hours until we go back to tackling the basement. I need to locate my N-95 masks (at least I know what room they are located in, if not the actually spot) before I head downstairs. Hopefully, those will lessen the fungi-caused headaches.
Keep your fingers crossed for me.
When I sprint with a friend in the evening, I often don't hear the ding of the timer. The Princess Pup can get on or off my lap without me realizing it. DH can be talking to me, and it doesn't register.
There's an episode of Mike & Molly where the family toys with Molly as she's in the zone while writing her book. While the scene is played for laughs, it perfectly captures the sensation.
I've been in the flow this week with A Cup of Conflict. It's a good thing, too, because I need to finish it. As a writer, I know I've been captured by it.
The problem is I'm going to resent having to sort and inventory everything in the basement from the flood this weekend. I also need to collect information for our insurance company to pursue subrogation rights pursuant to the damage.
With that, I realize I'm on the right track by writing, not practicing law.
Funny what convinces you that you are pursuing your life's path.
As I said in last Wednesday's post, I have to raise the price of print books because of the current tariff war. I'm also double-checking for typos I missed, updating the company name and copyright information, and updating the back matter. In one case, I even changed the back cover copy.
After a disastrous Thursday, we spent Friday and Saturday going through some stuff that was only partially submerged. DH has camera equipment sitting in plastic bins and on lids to dry out. I washed up most of the soaked towels we used to protect the hardwood floor in the family room.
Saturday night, DH went to the Flag City Phantoms game. I elected to stay home and try to catch up on some Angry Sheep work. I ended up talking to a writer friend, who's dealing with her own health issues, for an hour.
Saturday was also the birthday of our youngest niece. But between her and DH both working Saturday night, we celebrated her birthday at dinner in Applebee's on Sunday. (It's her new favorite place.)
My friend's mother passed away Saturday. The funeral has been pushed to next week because it's a holiday week here in the U.S.
"But, Suzan, all that happened over the weekend!" I hear you say. "What does that have to do with Monday?"
The reclaimation peeps from Service Master came to collect their fans bright and early this morning. They'll be back when we know what has to be trashed in the basement and what can be salvaged.
GK managed to lock himself out of both his email account and his Amazon account while trying to retrieve invoices required by the insurance company for his bed and mattress, which we know will have to be tossed. It took a little while to sort that out because his calls kept dropping.
By the time we got that handled, DH had the insurance company on the line after playing telephone tag with them on Friday.
I totally forgot to give the dogs their heartworm, flea, and tick
preventives on Thursday. I remembered this morning, only to discover I forgot to pick up Simparica for the Princess Pup when I ran out in April. So I needed to
run over to the vet's before they close.
And the kicker in all this mess? Our bank was bought and the conversion to the new bank took place over the weekend. So we had no idea where our back account stood. I had to put the damn groceries on the VISA. GK panicked about his paycheck getting deposited since we have a new routing number. I got him talked down, but I need to go through my business accounts and get all of those switched over to the new bank.
It doesn't look like I'll get a damn word written until after dinner tonight. Thank goodness, I've got plenty of leftovers in the fridge!
I really hope your Monday is less dramatic than mine!
Despite all three sump pumps chugging away, one well was full, and the second one was filling rapidly. He ran upstairs and woke me. That was at 5:44 AM.
I threw on a t-shirt, sweats, and my slip-on Skechers. By the time I got down to the basement, the full wells were spilling across the basement floor. We started taking stuff upstairs, but we couldn't outrun the water.
DH was running back and forth in his bare feet. I ordered him to stay out of the water because Goddess only knew what was floating round in that crap. He stayed above the middle of the stairs and I handed stuff to him.
By 6:04 AM, I gave up. The water was at my ankles. My shoes were full. My feet were itching terribly from whatever was in the flood water. I took off my shoes, left them on the top step, and went to wash the gunk off my feet.
Poor DH had a bunch of his deceased parents' memorabilia and his old toys he wanted to keep in the basement. Stuff that we didn't have room for anywhere else in the house. Plus, all of Genius Kid's (AKA GK) furniture and home stuff were stored down there while he's stationed overseas.
Luckily, it was a weekday, so we had companies there almost as soon as they opened. A HUGE shout-out to the peeps from EverDry Waterproofing, Bowers Heating and Cooling, and Service Master for responding as fast as they did. We're still waiting for the insurance adjuster from State Farm to come by, which will probably be Monday or Tuesday.
Thankfully, the water didn't go past the second from bottom step this time. But a 1400 sq, ft, open space filled at the rate of one inch every three minutes before the sump pumps could catch up. That's a hell of a lot of water to remove.
Despite all the precautions and upgrades we did after the 2021 basement flood, the pond in the subdivision behind us overflowed. Again. Yes, we're looking into our legal remedies. That's all I can say at this point.
This was not how I wanted my week to end. I was on a good frickin' role with A Cup of Conflict before all the shit happened. Losing two days dealing with the mess was not on my to-do list for this week.
But that's life, right?
It didn't help to learn a good friend's mother is in hospice. It's a matter of days. Which mean another funeral soon. This one I won't resent because this friend has always been there for me.
And life goes on...
Despite the cost of paper going up two years ago, I managed to keep my paperback prices the same. But now, I'm not having a choice. I received a notice from Ingram that several of my books will require price increases because the price of paper is rising dramatically.
It sucks. I don't want to do it, but I don't have a choice. Either I raise the prices, or I cannot offer paperbacks for sale. *sigh*
I get it. A lot of you prefer the tactility of having a book in your hand.
So, if you want a paperback, order it now before the prices go up. My formatter is currently updating the front matter (Angry Sheep Publishing transforming from a sole proprietorship to an LLC) and back matter (i.e. list of books I have available). So, I'll be uploading those as she sends them to me.
In other words, I'll be starting on the price changes next week. This is the first time I've needed to raise all prices since I started publishing in 2011.
If you've been planning to buy a paperback, I suggest ordering now from your favorite bookseller.
Others, it's worse than pulling teeth or fingernails.
Sister Darys of the Skoloti tribes is one of those that refused to tell me her secrets for the longest time. Maybe it's because she's a Thief priestess. They don't just play things close to the vest. They have cards inside a hidden pocket.
Anyway, she finally admitted an really important secret Monday night when I was having issues with insomnia and was finally starting to drift off to sleep. Suddenly, I was wide awake again and cursing her seven ways to Rest Day!
The revelation meant I needed to do some reworking of the first half of A Cup of Conflict. *sigh* So that's where most of my week has gone. It's been a bitch, but I think it'll be a better story for the changes.
Anyway, that's how my week has gone, and how my weekend will continue.
I hope everyone has a glorious spring weekend yourselves!
Hope everyone found equally pleasant ways to deal with the chaos!
I also need to edit Death Goddess Walking and finish writing A Cup of Conflict. I'm at roughly the halfway point of ACoC. It'll be a downhill crazy rush to the finish as nobles and citizens collect in Chengzhou for Emperor Bao Quan Po's coronation with various opponents looking to assassinate whoever they can to destabilize Jing.
Except I need to fit in some work on the flower beds. This time, it's not just weeds.
The crazy squirrels and chipmunks have decided they don't like the current floral arrangements, and they've taken it upon themselves to change things.
A hyancinth bulb was moved the the succulents bed. Roses have been transplanted to all four sides of the house. (Which actually make sense, since they like sunshine, and the north side wasn't a good place to begin with.)
Strawberries were eaten from their planter, and their seeds scattered along the eastern beds for additional early summer treats. Dandelions were planted in the box on the northeast side of my office, replacing the inedible pink flowers that grew there.
So far, the rodentia haven't touched the daffodils and tulips, probably because the bulbs are too big for them to dig up and move. Instead, the critters are planting oaks in those beds, which will eventually wipe out my flowers if I don't dig up the saplings.
While I can appreciate the squirrels and chipmunks needs and wants, they don't mesh with the previous owners, or my, artistic visions.
So, the battle for the beds and boxes has begin!
In the process of reinstalling Windows 11 and MS Office, Microsoft decided to update with the latest versions instead of the ones I purchased.
Okay. Fine. Wasn't expecting it, but hey, I didn't have to purchase new copies, right?
OH MY FUCKING GODDESS!!
In their efforts to help me, they tried to shove everything through OneDrive and forced through the IMAP email protocol.
It's taken a lot of extra time to root out the OneDrive by hard links. I'm still working on it.
But even worse was IMAP. It wants to download all of my email folders and files back to the original email servers so I have copies available to all my devices. Sounds like a good idea.
In theory.
In reality, IMAP copied THOUSANDS of emails I need to keep for business reasons. The worst was my main author email address. When I got the domain email address years ago, I didn't need too much space. I still don't. And it's really not worth upgrading to the next largest package offered because I clean out that address's server on a regular basis.
But when fourteen years of business communications get copied back the email server, it maxed out my allocated space in very quick order.
I think I've finally got everything fixed. *fingers crossed*
However this is the same email address where your contacts from my websites' contact page sends your notes. So if you've tried to send me any communication through the websites' contact page, your message is in the ether and unretrievable.
Please contact me again, unless your question is about A Cup of Conflict. I swear I'm working on it!
Anyway, I'm back to writing. It's sad that I have to go to Starbucks and turn off my phone to get any peace and quiet. Do you want to hear something funny? I'm finally not getting hit on by men. It took until the year I turn the big 6-0, but it's a relief.
Of course, it helps that most of the people also going to the neighborhood Starbucks are also women. Plus, the few men I've seen are either with females or keep to themselves. It's one of the few good things in this world today.
Anyway, I'm trying to wrap up an Enchanted Bakery story if you're reading this before 3PM. *fingers crossed* If I do, I start back on A Cup of Conflict later tonight. It's Anthea so I know where the tale is headed. It's a matter of writing it all down.
It's not all work. I've been rewatching Supernatural while I work on the beaded bookmarks. I need to rewake my urban fantasy chops in order to finish The Books of Apep series this summer. The next thing will be to set up the Kickstarter.
I'm getting things accomplished, just slower than I would like.
I swore oaths to uphold the Constitution of the United States of America three times in my life: when I was sworn in as an attorney in Texas, when I was sworn in as an attorney in Ohio, and when I was sworn as an attorney in to the Eastern District of Texas Federal Court.
To watch the total disregard of our rule of law by the clown circus in D.C. is heartbreaking and rage-inducing at the same time.
Maybe the chaos is why I started writing more stories in The Enchanted Bakery series. I needed something humorous in my soul to get through this week.
But what happens after Easter?
There are already men on the streets snatching people in broad daylight for saying the things we are all thinking. Unmarked planes are carrying people to other countries.
"But those are illegals!" I hear some of you cry.
Are you absolutely sure about this? There's rarely any evidence. Even fewer court records. So the talking heads are spinning these people's stories any way they see fit. This is exactly why the current adminstration is denying independent reporters access to government briefings. Heaven forbid anyone question the god-king!
The American legal system isn't perfect by any means. But it stood as a beacon of the possibilities of a fair system. There was a time I truly believed total fairness could be achieved.
Not any more.
While I was on my road trip at the end of March, a friend asked if I thought the U.S. was becoming fascist. My answer was "We already are."
I'm just not sure how we can stop it without a tons of blood shed in the process. But I do know hate isn't the answer. That's how we ended up here in the first place.
For the record, I get the idea of the IMAP protocol. It's nice to have all your devices seeing the same e-mails. However, I rely on having an e-mail on a second device if I accidentally delete something important.
Even if I didn't have that option, having my devices syncing by copying my thousands of old e-mails that I HAVE TO KEEP FOR THE IRS back to my e-mail service providers is NOT A GOOD THING!
Seriously, one of my business e-mail accounts has less space on that provider's servers than other business and personal accounts. So, IMAP kept copying everything back to that particular server and maxing out my allocated space.
To the point, I couldn't send or receive any e-mails. ARGH!
This is the account I use to keep in touch with my cover artists and formatter. It was a very necessary account to keep up and running.
Unfortunately, I wasted the last two days figuring out how to stop IMAP from doing this. Unfortunately, I can't turn off the copying function of IMAP. Nor would Outlook recognize my old PST file as a valid e-mail data file. The issue meant creating a brand-new POP account on Outlook and copying everything from the old PST file to the new PST file.
But after the hair-pulling and chocolate-eating, everything's sorted. I can now send my files for April releases to my formatter. And I was able to retrieve the e-mails with cover art attached from my cover artists.
I still need to go through and unlock the rest of my files because apparently my backup software couldn't handle copying subfolders. When I did a manual copy, both my backup hard drive and Microsoft thought I was stealing from myself so there's a ton of files and folders with permissions stripped from them.
ARGH!
But that's a bitch session for another day.
However, everyone but the Grandpuppy has medical appointments this week. Today was Princess Bella's annual check-up. Everything's fine, just typical middle-age crap. We both have arthritis in our knees.
Over night, the dang robins built a dang nest in my Ostara/Easter wreath on the front door. This year, DH didn't trim down the freakin' bush you prefer, you mini-dinosaurs. Stay out of my wreaths! Thankfully, no eggs had been layed yet, so I didn't feel bad about removing the next.
Saws have been humming or growling through the area as homeowners and cleaning crews are dealing with the fallen branches and downed trees from last Wednesday's extreme storms. However, the neighbors directly behind us are not one of those dealing with the wreckage. I'm thankful none of the debris landed on our side of the fence, but I miss privacy provided by the downed or damaged trees.
And now, I'll head over to Starbucks to get some actual drafting done. Tonight, I'll be editing the stories that are scheduled for release next week, plus March's release that wasn't finished in time.
I may be a turtle, but I'm still running this race!
Tuesday morning, I woke up at 3AM with a UTI. I get them when I'm super-stressed. It doesn't matter if the stress is bad or good. Yeah, I know those are relative terms. But the last time I had a UTI was the day after my father-in-law's funeral. And I was having fun on my Tour of the Carolinas until everything caught up with me on the last full day in the South.
As I said above, the ladies at the urgent care clinic I went to were absolute dolls. I got in and taken care of. The PA assigned to me checked in regularly, especially when they discovered the testing machine had malfunctioned. They got a machine from another facility lickity-split because they couldn't prescribe antibiotics without confirmation.
While I waited for the prescriptions to be filled, I grabbed breakfast and gassed up the car. By the time I headed back to Becky's, less than two hours had passed.
Despite my plans to write and the antibiotics kicking in, I still felt like crap, so I took a good three-hour nap and a shower before she got home from her spin class. I had to skip the evening's martinis, but we got take-out from a delightful little family own restaurant.
On Wednesday morning, I woke feeling reasonable better. The drive from from Columbia, SC, to Northwest Ohio would only take nine hours, depending on the number of pit stops I made. Most of it is a straight shot up I-77.
Or it should have been.
A tractor-trailer crash brought down power lines across the interstate near Exit 124. I-77 was backed up for miles in both directions. The alternate routes were also backed up. You can't take three lanes of interstate traffic down to a couple of two-lane roads and not have delays.
Or in this case, a four-hour delay.
I didn't get home until after 11PM.
Just ahead of a major thunderstorm system that peeled shingles off the roof of our shed, overturned the decorative cistern next to our patio, and knocked over several neighbors trees. The official weather report says we had a 70 mph straight-line gust, but a neighbor and I speculated we may have had an F0 pass through from the sounds and the amount of damage.
But I'm home now. Two puppies are very pleased to have extra pets and cuddles again. And DH is happy that he no longer has to eat his own cooking!
But then the Beckster doesn't feel the need to drag me around her latest landing place. She had frozen pizza in the oven and a martini waiting for me when I arrived. We're getting Greek take-out tonight for dinner. There's just some friends who get you, and they are a royal treasure beyond measure.
Wednesday, I head home, but I think the break to visit family and friends has done me a world of good.
With music, I'm not addicted to a particular genre. I threw people off in the old days when one could look at a person's vinyl/cassette/CD collection and get a feel for someone's tastes. Mine was literally all over the place.
Dolly Parton, Madonna, Barry Manilow, Mozart, Prince, The Statler Brothers, Genesis, Elvis Presley, Metallica, ABC.
I've realized the commonality is the honest emotions in the song writing and the performance.
Last night, my friends took me all over Wilmington, NC, to see the sights. However, the highlight was a concert at UNCW by the Chatham Rabbits.And those qualities of honest emotion in their lyrics and performance makes me love their work.
The Chatham Rabbits are currently on tour if you want to check them out..
Here's a taste. . .
If you're an introvert, you understand what I'm talking about. If you're an extrovert, you probably won't. All I ask is you give us introverts some grace and kindness.
It's not that we don't like socializing. But the more people involved, the more strength we use to keep up. It's. . .exhausting.
At two of the four stops so far, the people I saw wanted me to meet their friends. The other two wanted to got out to eat at fancy restaurants in major cities. I just wanted to see the people I love. And I would have been perfectly happy to catch up over a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Right now, I'm ensconced in my room at a Charlotte Holiday Inn. Thankfully, check-out isn't until noon. It's only a three-hour drive to my next stop. So, I have roughly 18 hours of me time.
I need it. I mean I REALLY need it because my next friend is taking me out to dinner with her friends and then to a concert.
And the friend at my last stop just texted me about making reservations for dinner when I get to her house. I texted back, "Please don't make me go out! We order in or I'll cook." And she replied that was no problem
I'm glad I bookended my entire trip with people I've lived with at one time or another. They understand me.
The inevitable necessary hard drive replacement has happened. However, everything from the operating system to my folders have so many extra protections on them it's been a royal bitch to restore all the programs and files.
Not to mention the innate fear that I'll accidentally erase something I need.
Hell, even the free tools to correct PDFs and EPUBs have given me headaches while I try to reinstall them.
It doesn't help that the temperatures have plunged after a storm system rolled through Saturday night. Even with bright sunshine today, my space heater can't keep up in my office. The only way you can tell it's three days from Spring are from the buds on the trees and the squirrels chasing each other across the back yard.
While I wait for items to copy to this computer from my external backup drive (yeah, I have a ton of books, partial books, ideas, my music for inspiration, and various pictures for covers), I'm going to try to write up all the random thoughts about the publishing industry and work/life balance that have been rumbling through my head over the last few months.
Also, if you want some tidbits to read, I've started posting chapters for Sapphire (War of the Witches #1). This series won't be out until next year. I've got to finish Justice and The Books of Apep first. But I've been dabbling on Sapphire for a few minutes most nights before bedtime. When readers are expecting something in particular, I sometimes let the pressure to mess with my head. Writing on a private project of the heart makes a nice relief valve.
Or in the case of Justice, I don't want the adventure to end. I've had that problem with past books. I unconsciously slowed my writing because I love the characters so much, and I don't want to let go.
It's time to get more coffee and warm up my hands as I wait for files to finish copying.
Have a great Monday!
It's not just us. Everyone's losing business because of the current round of inflation. One of my fantasy cover artists had a full 2025 schedule on January 1st. Now, she's got authors canceling their slots left and right. My romance cover artist closed her website because it had become too expensive and rarely takes new clients for custom covers. My other fantasy cover artist and I had a long e-mail discussion about the change in the industry.
DH's employer had a round of layoffs. If Medicare is trashed, neither of us will be able to retire any time soon.
My friends who've already retired fear losing their Social Security on top of watching their 401Ks in free fall.
And to top things off, the entire world economy is still recovering from the chaos caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. Governments are killing sick chickens in mass in an effort to keep the mutating avian flu from turning into another health disaster.
Which is why a carton of 18 eggs is now more expensive than a pound of ground beef in our town.
How the hell can we expect people to buy our books when they can't afford nutritious food? I say that as someone who has health issues and is making that very same cost/benefit analysis.
And then there are the tariffs against our allies, which is prompting boycotts and other retaliatory measures.
So here's what I'm thinking--
To my fellow Americans, if you like my stories, but can't afford my books or feel in good conscience you can't buy them from a mega corporation, I get it. I'm looking into opening my own store so I can give you discounts, and I'm not getting overcharged by certain companies. Also, contact your local libraries about carrying my books so you can read them for free. If it's a question of your library's budget, I'm more than happy to donate both e-books and print books to your library. Have your librarian contact me.
To my readers outside of the United States, I understand why you might be boycotting any U.S. vendors, including me. I didn't vote for the current administration, but everyone's suffering under his idiotic policies. Frankly, you've got to look out for yourselves. Hopefully, both I and my books will still be around once the current chaos is done.
Until then, remember this quote from The Last of the Mohicans (1992):
You're strong! You survive! You stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you! No matter how long it takes, no matter how far. I will find you!
The danger part is unusual. I'll be heading down to West Virginia to check on my cousin at the end of the month. From there, I'll drive down to DC to see my sister, then spend a week in North Carolina visiting friends.
That's where it gets weird. Nearly every friend has extolled me to be super careful driving through NC. They worry about me driving through the state as a woman alone.
I've done countless roadtrips by my lonesome. I've been to NC by myself before, and never worried.
But this time? Yeah, I'm taking their warnings seriously.
It's nothing personally against NC. It's because of my last trip back in October to see my cousin.
Depending on the route I take, I drive through small sections of Pennsylvania and Maryland in addition to Ohio and WV. In October, I had just passed through Delaware, Ohio, on my way home. But that time I was driving GK's Challenger because my car was in the shop for repairs (I had been sideswiped by a teenager in town).
Anyway, a couple of guys in a pickup swerved into my lane. No biggie, right? Except they tried to run me off the road two more times. I looked over, and the men were laughing. At me. And the sun was setting.
There's a long stretch of fairly straight road before we reached the U.S. 30 interchange. No one else was around us except for some traffic a mile behind us. The pickup started to swerve again. So, I punched the accelerator.
Now, I'm usually very careful about my speed between Delaware and home because Ohio state troopers patrol pretty heavily along this highway.
I could hear the pickup's engine above the growl of the Challenger. These guys were actually trying to chase me. Any ticket would be worth getting away from these jerks.
Except the chase lasted less than 30 seconds. A horrendous noise came from the pickup. If you've ever heard an engine throw a rod, you know what I'm talking about.
I kept going, glancing in my rearview mirror until they were out of sight. Only then did I feel safe enough to slow down. I look at the speedometer. I was going well over a hundred. I took my foot off the accelerator until I reached the speed limit.
I'm thankful I was okay. I'm thankful no one else was on that stretch of highway who might have been hurt. And I believe karma stepped in that night.
So, yeah, it's not just the people in NC I need to watch out for. I honestly don't get why people get their kicks from terrorizing, or attempting to terrorize total strangers.
However, DH installed a dashcam on my car in case I run into more careless or crazy drivers. The video is automatically sent to DH's phone, so no matter what happens, he'll know about it.
Cameras are everywhere these days, kids. You can't get away with stuff anymore unless you're a billionaire asshole.
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