Where Personal and Professional Life Collide...

I cried more today during the yizkor service than I did at my father's funeral. This is...not surprising. At the funeral we were still feeling shock that he was gone, and relief that he was no longer in pain.

Today, I was allowed solely to miss him, and mourn the space where he had been.

May all those who sorrow find peace.

Today would have been my dad's 85th birthday.
Raise a glass (or mug) if you would, please.

Well, not entirely back yet (I'm still in NYC) but the funeral is over, and while I could continue to sit shiva at home this weekend, I think my dad would have rolled his eyes and said "three days is more than enough, get on with it."

So this is me, getting on with it.

Back to Seattle in the morning, back to deadlines and obligations and cats and Life.

My Aunt Judy, my mother's younger sister, died earlier this week.

Her funeral is this morning, in New Jersey. I am in Washington. Time and available energy conspired against me, and discussion with family members made it obvious that flying 6 hours, then driving 2, and then turning around and doing it again twelve hours later back to the West Coast wasn't a logical thing to do. So I am 2500 miles away, saying my goodbyes.

If matter cannot be lost, only transformed, then nothing that matters can ever be lost, only transformed. What do we then become?

News of Judy's death came the morning I handed my current novel back to my editor. This is relevant. Judy and her husband were long-time fans, members of NESFA from its early years, and when my parents were bemused by their youngest child's fascination with this "sci-fi stuff," they stepped in, taking a then eleven-years-old me to my very first SF convention, and turning me loose for the weekend.

My life changed.

If you're here, reading this, because you read my work, Judy is part of the reason why that work exists.

When I speak of my mother's family, certain characteristics always come to the fore. Determined, certainly. Smart. Witty (some might even say wiseass). Loving. But Judy added another to the list: gentle. In a family of strong-minded individuals (that is to say: stubborn and opinionated), dealing with us couldn't have been easy. But she did her damnedest, and even when illness began to consume her mind, and her life, that gentleness remained.

And that is what I will remember.


What do we become, when we transform? I think, maybe, we become what others remember.

Tuesday morning: pick up folks and hit the road - in godsawful rain and wind - to Boston. Unpack, decompress, Seder (lovely as always with the extended family), back up this morning to WTFBBQ there's snow on the ground, unpack the ice from the windshield, drive back to NYC, drop off folks, pick up groceries, collapse.

29 hour turnaround, total.

I'ze tired.

Massive amounts of email to unload and answer, work to edit, words to write, and trips to plan. Knowing I'll get it all under control isn't quite the same as having it all under control already.

*makes more coffee, adds it to the whiskey*

Being a teenager is hard. It's always been hard, between hormones and peer pressure and impatience, and the endless barrage of modern media only makes it tougher. So I figured I'd share with you some of the things I've learned over the years. We'll start here.


Six Things that Make You Attractive, Even on Your Worst Hair Day Ever.


1. eyes that look with curiosity.
2. mouths that lift in a smile.
3. hands that are open, not clenched.
4. throats that fill with joy, not scorn.
5. legs that stride, rather than creep.
6. minds that ask "why" and "how" rather than "why should I?"


with love,

your auntie meerkat

The Year End Project recommenced today (this was started last year, and then Life and Paying Deadlines got in the way).

Today I went through the stockpiled beta-reader notes (bless you, guys) and excerpted what was consistently mentioned, and entered them into a Scrivener file. Then I went through my own notes, jotted over the past 6 months as I found time and thought, and entered them into the Scrivener file, under the heading of "fixit and flowit."

Then I went through the first three chapters (Part 1) and entered them into the Scrivener file (chapters and scenes), giving a quick eyeball of certain elements that had been mentioned in the various notes. I had an inspiration of what to call one particular group of individuals who had been resisting naming previously, and figured out a scene that probably needs to be added. I may also have renamed one of my main characters (or at least, her use-name).

And then I had to go play Parental Tech Support. Windows 8 has much to recommend it, and much that makes me want to throw it out the window. My folks have a new all-in-one that's a joy and a pleasure, though - and their very first webcam! My mom is not certain it's a good thing - my dad is already playing with it, including a new feature of Windows 8 - motion-controlled screen swipes. Which he forgot to tell me he'd been playing with.

I MAY have spent a few minutes playing conductor, to see what one hand swipe or another would do. Giggles ensued. Now we need to figure out how to turn it off, before it drives my mom 'round the bend.

Tonight, I'm going to start generating the Project's name-list. This book has 4 major players, about a dozen minor players, and a dozen more tertiaries, and that's just the first section! The name-list is going to be my Very Best Friend for a while....

Only two entries into the contest? Should I extend the deadline, to allow folk time to recover from the holiday, or just assume the prize I thought was so cool is in fact of interest to very few? 

EtA: as per wood_dragon's comment, contest amended to only the animal with the copy of COLLARED, no self-portrait required.

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I hope everyone enjoyed their Thanksgiving, if mandated by locality and citizenship.  Ours was lovely - 27 of our blood-nearest and heart-dearest, fed to a fare-the-well. At the end, my sister commented that we hadn't drunk as much cider as usual, and we realized it was because the NexGen was now drinking wine (and beer). Oy. ;-)

My family has a tradition of naming our turkeys, "because it would be rude to invite them to dinner and not know their name." This year, seeing as my family is from Massachusetts, the choice was obvious.

Meet Mitt.


Yes, he was a massive beast. Pilaf and roasted veggies, succotash, and applesauce, and and and... And also, 11 desserts for 27 people.  Because that's how we roll.

Then I spent a day basically hanging around with my immediate family, NOT participating in Black Friday. And eating leftover turkey, and take-out Thai. And then my brother-in-law pulled out a bottle of Casanova di Neri 1995 Brunello and said "I guess we should open this..."

Oh yes. Should have opened it two years ago, actually (the cork crumbled as we were opening it. Talk about heart-in-mouth!), but once the wine started to open and the mustiness faded, a lovely wine came forward, plum and mushroom softness, with a glorious tawny brown color that made me go "whoa." It was fascinating, seeing the reaction of non-wine-savvy family members as the wine opened and cleaned up. Some were put off by the initial taste, unable to see past it to the potential, and then were surprised by what it became. Some just didn't like it. And some saw/tasted it every step of the way, like cheering a marathoner on to the finish line, and its success becomes your own satisfaction....

Today, which is a grey, windy day, we hit the road for home.  I am not driving.  I will be working.  Because deadlines, they still might eat me if I sleep...

This is a placeholder to let y'all know that I am currently on the Cape (that's Cape Cod, for those of you regionally-impaired). The rest of the family is here likewise (minus Eldest Nephew), and while I am carving out a few hours every day to do some work, mostly there will be hiking and possibly canoeing and a lot of eating and reading of books, and whatnot the way you do on family vacations. Or we do, anyway.

Regular blogging will continue when I'm home. Or something particularly noteworthy happens.