Managing a Book Universe

Several of my books (two published, one nearly ready to publish, two needing a good go-over, one currently being written — that many already?) exist in the Hidden in Plain Sight universe — a world just like the one we’re living in, except with preternatural and virtually immortal beings and their half-human offspring. The stories are just as much (if not more) about how the beings deal with what they call Earthside.

The series is very character-driven, with one extended family of Archetypes (the immortals) and Nephilim (the half-humans) prominent in the plots. There are also several humans featured prominently. The books occur over a timeline of 20 years. As a result, I have to manage events in several characters’ lives.

For example, there was the Baby Boom. At one point, Nephilim were sterile, then their Maker decided they weren’t. (There is a reason, but the book hasn’t been written yet.) As many of them were in relationships and accustomed to not using birth control, there were babies. So yesterday I was going to write a story about four characters in Chicago going on a walk through the powder keg of a city pre-collapse. Three were Nephilim, one human, and all have strong personalities so it was going to be fun. Until I realized: Wait, Allan and Celestine have a kid. And later, wait, one of those two is the father to twins. And the original idea collapsed, because I didn’t see these parents taking the kids out for a field trip on volatile streets. Nor did I see them leaving the kids with babysitters while there were riots on corners nearby. I don’t know how to write the story now.

This happens all the time. Are Batarel and Ty in Chicago or at Barn Swallows’ Dance¹ right now? (Barn Swallows’ Dance, ever since they completed their field trip.) How do I keep Josh from being held hostage with the English Department during the siege of Illinois? (He has a vision and stays home from work that day. I knew a guy who survived 9/11 because he didn’t feel like going to work that day.) Just where is Hard Promises located? (Cook County IL sold off a lot of its forest preserve property, and the collective’s founders grabbed Beaubien Woods.)

It’s hard to take notes on these twists and turns because I can’t predict what I’ll need for the future. So I search through the previous books (thank goodness Scrivener has a pretty robust search engine) and find the details I need.

I’m sure this will keep happening. When does Barn Swallows’ Dance first connect with Hearts are Mountains?

^1: Barn Swallows Dance, Hard Promises, and Hearts are Mountains are all agricultural collectives. They have as residents a mix of humans, Archetypes, and Nephilim.

Thunderstorms (Pt. 2)

The clouds are moving in. Light clouds right now, but there is a chance of severe weather – winds, possible hail. A tornado would not be unheard of. The weather service says this should start about the time I am conducting a meeting that I would rather skip.

I might not be conducting. I may be looking out the window at the storm. The storm speaks to me; it speaks louder than this business meeting. It speaks louder than this white-walled room with its whiteboards and white screen.

If I could walk out into the storm, I would.

Thunderstorms

What is your favorite type of weather?

I love thunderstorms. I live in the Midwest, which has a fine number of thunderstorms each year. The pounding rain, the flashes of lightning that hit all too close to the house, the ringing thunderclaps are all dear to me.

When I was younger, I had the perception of walking through a bolt of lightning. I did not really walk through lightning because I had no charring or lightning trees on my body. But I found myself completely surrounded by a hot white light, no clap of thunder. I always felt from that point forward that lightning had claimed me.

I like the drama of thunderstorms. I am not dramatic; I have aged into a pretty staid person. But I claim thunderstorms as my alter ego.

What do you wish you could do more every day?

I wish I could write more. That doesn’t mean I never have enough time to write. Sometimes, something else gets in the way.

Sometimes it’s my focus and I find myself taking a detour on the Internet. Sometimes it’s negative self-talk that makes me not want to write. Sometimes it’s too much to think about.

Today it’s my iPad is down to zero and is recharging very slowly. I can’t always do something about it.

All is Bright Again

Today feels more like spring (at 42 degrees) than did the weather in the 60s a couple of weeks ago. It could be the quality of the sunshine, or yellow forsythia flowers chilling on the bush. Or the mobs of robins on the lawn and in the trees.

I have gotten through the winter without depression dogging my steps. I don’t know how I did it, other than luck. Definitely luck. I feel a bit tired right now, but not depressed. Not crying, not dreading work, not denigrating myself.

I’m still keeping watch. I am in the middle of the 12^th anniversary of the most stressful time of my life. My best friend died, then my department disbanded, and I was hospitalized with suicidal ideations and a medicine-related problem. I spent the summer overmedicated and yanked off of supervising internships. I am always afraid this will happen to me again.

But in the meantime, it’s Spring. I watch the birds to see what might surprise me today. I write, feeling the words become part of me. I look for crocuses, for daffodils, for a reminder that all is bright again.

A Saint’s Day

I am going to write about the patron saint of this day, March 17.

Not that one.

I’m writing about St. Gertrude. St. Gertrude is the patron saint of cats for reasons that do not appear in her history. It might be because she was the patron saint of rats and rats spread bubonic plague so we have to bring the cats out to rid us of the plague — but no. Early Catholicism was brutal on cats, especially black ones.

Nowadays, though, in this cat-loving world of ours (the cats won!) Gertrude can be portrayed with a cat in her lap and the rats scurrying away.

St. Gertrude is also the patron saint of gardeners, widows, the recently deceased, the sick, the poor, the mentally ill, and travelers. She sounds like someone I’d like to hang out with.

How does one celebrate St. Gertrude’s Day? I guess by petting cats. They’ll be happy for the attention.

The Ides of March: Q and A

According to Ken Jennings, there are many misconceptions about the Ides of March, the day that Julius Caesar was assassinated. I’ll try to summarize here.

What is an “ides” anyhow?

An ides was a calendar entry in the Roman calendar used to divide the month into two halves. In most months, it was on the 13th of the month; in others (including March) it was on the 15th. The Roman calendar was odd; all days of the month after the ides were labeled as “x days before the beginning of next month.” Almost as if the second half of the month wasn’t worth much.

What is this “Beware the Ides of March”?

That goes back to Julius Caesar, who was warned by a soothsayer (psychic) to beware the day. Wouldn’t it be convenient to have reliable soothsayers today? “Don’t go to work today.” “Avoid the tuna salad at lunch.” “Beware the Amway Salesman.” I could use someone like that.

Do I have to worry about the Ides of March?

Not unless your name is Julius Caesar.

You also don’t have to worry about the early 70’s American rock band of the same name, famous for the song “Vehicle”.

My Go-Kit

As a writer, I want to be prepared for writing wherever I go, because who knows when I’m going to have an hour or two to work. I write my works on computers unless I have to interrogate (interview) my characters; then it’s pen and ink. So I have to have a keyboard with me at all times.

The problem with that is that my laptop is powerful, which means it’s big. Heavy. It has to be, because it’s the computer I do my graphics work on. Graphics to me is layout for book covers and not actual drawings or renderings, but I still feel like I need muscle in my laptop.

That means that I need a lighter computer for on-the-go. Thus, my go-kit.

My go-kit is centered on an iPad with an M1 chip and 256 MB storage at just over 1 lb weight. It’s quite useful for information gathering, word processing, and most of what I need to do to produce a book. (I understand it uses Photoshop as well, but I have some trouble accessing the materials I need on here.)

To make this a computer substitute, I need input devices. Rather than get one of Apple’s expensive magic keyboards, I am content with a matching Logi keyboard and mouse, which together cost $50. They match the protector case on the iPad as well, all in what Logi calls “Lavender Lemonade”. See above.)

All this, including the cable, fits in a small computer bag (also lavender) that goes with me almost everywhere, hence the name. I have yet to utilize it fully, however, because I have trouble using the Apple Pencil without glitches. If I can get that taken care of, I wouldn’t even need the pen and ink.

So here’s my solution to not wanting to haul a heavy computer around so I can write when I’m inspired.

Spring Break Again

It’s Spring Break, and I’m writing and reading.

Writing: two items at once:

Kringle Through the Snow (Kringle #6)
Carrying Light (Hidden in Plain Sight #5)

Reading:

Reclaiming the Balance (Hidden in Plain Sight #3)

And, frustratingly, I don’t feel like I’m getting too far. Sometimes, things go swimmingly, and sometimes they go drowningly.

“Where would you go on a shopping spree?”

I assume someone else’s money is going to pay for this?

I would go to the Apple Store and upgrade my computer equipment for the top-of-the-line stuff I can’t afford. I’d start with the new high-spec MacBook Air and a brand new iPad Air.

While I’m there I would buy new AirPod Pros and a new watch, and two new displays for the office.

I feel like I’m missing something. Extra cables, maybe, and a few new power bricks.

This would be very satisfying for a period of time. A short period of time, it turns out. This is because of a concept called the hedonic treadmill. When we consume (buy) a product, we feel happy (hedonic happiness) for a short period of time, and then it fades. Then we have to consume more to get that thrill again. That’s the treadmill.

So the shopping spree isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I will admit it was fun, it was really fun! But I’m not missing much.