Still There

 Even though I haven't been writing full time lately, that doesn't mean my characters aren't in my head at all. Every once in a while, one of them wanders in to say hello. Here's one of them:

Reggie Hawkins decided that if he kept his head down, he didn’t have to acknowledge that he was alone. He studied the label on his beer, which hadn’t changed since the last time he studied it, and took another drink. It didn’t taste any better than the solitude.

He finally shifted his gaze down the long wooden bar to where the bartender was wiping the same glass he’d been wiping for the past half hour. It must be hard to look busy when there was no one around. Maybe he was just waiting for Hawkins to leave so he could drop the pretense.

Hawkins had thought that some of his crewmates might come down, but it was getting late and that looked unlikely. He really ought to return to his room, but it wasn’t any better than this place, although the bed was probably a little more comfortable than the bar stool.

He took another drink, unsure why he’d come down here in the first place. Maybe he’d thought there’d be people here and he could find something in their chatter that didn’t exist on the television or his phone. It was a good thing the ship was scheduled to leave the next morning or who knows what he would have tried next.

He picked at the label, which really wasn’t a label since they’d gone to etching to save on paper. The trees were probably happy, except that they were no doubt used for something worse, like toilet paper. He bet they’d rather be beer labels.

Hawkins sighed. The truth was that he missed Nick Bartucci. He had no shortage of friends—on and off the ship—but no two friends are alike and he missed the one who was Nick.

The memory made him realize there were two things he needed to do: decide if he’d have trouble being aboard Penumbra when Nick wasn’t there … and get over it.

It still took him by surprise when some random thought pierced his brain and he was brought up short, as if walking into a wall that he hadn’t seen there. It made him shake his head, wondering why the memories wouldn’t leave him alone. They could be caused by anything, really: a laugh, something irritating, a baseball cap he spotted on a passerby. It didn’t seem to matter. Each time, he felt a sharp dig in his midsection, followed by shortness of breath and sometimes a coughing fit. A few seconds later, all seemed normal.

Sometimes Hawkins recalled a memory on purpose, just to avoid the surprise, but it still affected him the same way. And this had been going on for a few months. It was time to get past the whole thing.

He just didn’t know how to do that.

Hawkins turned his head. The bartender had set down the glass and stood at attention, gazing at the front of the bar as if he’d seen a miracle. Seconds later, the sound of voices told Hawkins what had caused the reaction. Three young people, two men and a woman, sailed into the room and docked at the bar, where they placed cheerful orders and carried on a lively conversation. Drinks in hand, they barely considered their options before selecting a booth a few meters from Hawkins, apparently unaware of him or the bartender smiling at them.

Hawkins offered his own smile at the beer bottle as he listened to the animated chatter, punctuated by laughter and occasional mock outrage. His muscles relaxed and his spine straightened a bit. After a while, he was ready to go upstairs and try to sleep.

“Hey,” he said as he reached for his phone.

The bartender gave him grudging attention.

“Put their first round on mine,” Hawkins said.

The bartender nodded and poked a few buttons on his monitor.

Hawkins saw the balance change on the little screen built into the bar next to his bottle. He tapped some information into his phone to increase the balance to include a hefty tip. Then he tapped the phone against the screen and put it away, which he also did with the last of the beer.

Then he headed to get some sleep before the next day's flight.

Cat

      I don’t quite know how to begin this, except with tears in my eyes.

A few years ago, we started to see a black and white cat in our neighborhood. He was rather large, with poofy fur and a rather arrogant gaze. He didn’t have a collar or tag, so we never knew whose cat he was. He never seemed afraid or happy or much besides regal. He seemed to believe he owned the neighborhood, posing like a statue in various front yards.

Our yard was one of the yards he chose. I don’t know why. I wasn’t particularly welcoming, especially whenever I caught him anywhere near my birdfeeders in the back yard. He would position himself there as if waiting for a snack. I would chase him away. For a large cat, he got over the six-foot fence in a flash, each time with a rather accusing glare.

I decided to follow my usual rule, though: cats are not allowed in the back yard, but I will not disturb them if they’re in the front. He didn’t seem to understand about the back yard, but he certainly took advantage of the front yard, posing on the front sidewalk as if challenging me. Several times he took a nap between the front bushes, a curled-up ball of fur among a bed of leaves. Those were the only times he looked happy.

He also liked to position himself on the front splash block (I had to look that up), at the base of a gutter downspout on the garage, looking like the sphinx as he surveyed the surroundings. He’d be there when I came home, watching me as I pulled the car into the driveway, eyeing the garage door as it swung upward. I was always worried that he’d try to get into the garage, but he never did. The first time it happened, he was startled by the garage door’s sudden movement, but after that first time, he didn’t react at all, as if to show me how enlightened he was.

If we came home from the store and he was anywhere near the car, he’d watch me as I got out. His eyes would narrow, but he wouldn’t move. It was as if he knew I could be mean, but somehow I wasn’t going to be at that particular time.

If only he and I had known …

I came home from work at 5:00 on Friday. The forecast said it would be cold overnight so I went outside to put down some bird seed. When I got out there, I saw the cat under the birdfeeder again. It had been a long, hard week at work (which isn’t an excuse), so I overreacted. I tried to shoo him but he just looked at me with his narrow eyes. I thought he’d finally decided to challenge me, so I grabbed the hose. Of course the hose wouldn’t work, which only enraged me more. I ran inside, filled a milk jug with water and ran outside to splash him with it.

This time he tried to get away. It was with a jolt of horror that I saw him pulling himself forward with his front paws, while his back legs dragged uselessly behind him. Something terrible had happened and he was badly hurt.

I dropped the jug, knelt down and said, “Oh, sweetie! I’m so sorry. It’s going to be okay.”

He nestled into the leaves and gave one soft meow, which even now breaks my heart into little shards of glass.

I bolted into the house and there followed a series of frantic phone calls. The one veterinary office still open didn’t have anyone available other than a sympathetic receptionist. The other clinics were closed. The police said they couldn’t do anything for a cat. The humane society was closed. Etc.

Finally, my husband called our next-door neighbor, who owns cats. He came over, assessed the situation and went to get a cat carrier. I got thick gloves because I’ve handled an injured pet before, but the neighbor was able to crawl into the bushes and simply lift the cat up, depositing it gently in the carrier. I was amazed that the cat was so calm. I wanted to do something more, but there wasn’t anything I could do as he took the carrier back to his house.

Later we received an email: the cat was so badly injured that they had to put him down. We’d thought he had been hit by a car, but he apparently had a BB pellet near his spine. Surgery would have been difficult and expensive.

And now I’m crying again.

Much of it is guilt: I splashed water on the poor animal! Much of it is rage that a cat would have to suffer so much. And perhaps most of it is grief. I’d started to like the cat, despite my grumbling about him, despite my chasing him from the back yard to protect the birds. I remember him sleeping peacefully in the bushes. I remember him almost seeming to wait for me to get home. I remember how beautiful his fur was. I remember his soft meow, which I now interpret not as a warning or rebuke, but more a sigh, a comment that he was tired and hurting and he just couldn’t do what I wanted.

I’m sorry, cat. I should have done better. I should have let you know that not all people are horrible, but I only reinforced it instead. I don’t feel I have the right to ask for your forgiveness.

At least now you don’t have to feel it anymore.

Please, please rest in peace.

Parting Shot Copyright

 I just reread my last blog. (Wow! 8 months ago! Sorry about that.) Some of my questions have been answered and some have not. It's hard to believe we're descending into a similar situation as the delta variant spreads. (No matter what I said in December, I'm tired of wearing a mask.)

I still want to stay out of the political arena, but it boggles my mind that some people think they can tell health departments, school districts and government entities that they can't create rules to keep everyone safe. Banning mask mandates seems like the height of arrogance to me; it's more important to show you're right (or more stubborn) than to protect other people?? I don't get that at all.

One of the results of the pandemic is that a lot of offices in Washington, D.C., closed. That includes the Copyright Office. Oops. And guess who filed for copyright protection last August? Yep, that would be me. (So THAT's why you shouldn't publish during a pandemic!) I've learned my lesson a little late, it seems.

The big problem is that they closed the warehouse where they keep the physical copies of submitted works. They sort of filed everything in that warehouse in order received, but no one could touch it until recently. If you remember the gigantic warehouse at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark," that's probably what it looked like while all those works piled up. (I guess I wasn't the only one who didn't realize what a problem it would be.)

I knew there would be a delay, but here we are, a year later, and my case is still open. I even submitted the file electronically last month in the hopes that it would help my case. The Copyright Office acknowledged that they received it ... and then nothing.

They do say on their site that they're processing claims from October 2020, which is after my submission date of August 2020, so I'm hopeful that I'll hear something soon. There's no precedent for this, though, so I have no idea.

I guess one of these days I'll get a nice little surprise when my copyright registration appears in the mail without warning! That will be nice.

Meanwhile, I hope we can all get a handle on the delta variant and once again start to feel safe again. We're all in it together, so we all have to do what we can to keep each other safe.

P.S. If you expect me to comment on the Cubs' fire sale, it's still too soon and I just can't. Sorry.

What a Year

 Amazingly enough, it looks like we're about to make it through 2020. Sadly, a lot of people didn't, so I must mention them as a matter of respect. I'm very sorry to their families and friends in what has been such a difficult year.

Right now, we're just starting to hear about the new vaccine and it's starting to be administered to health-care workers in this country. I'm so glad those heroes will now be protected! It is unimaginable to me what their year has been like and I'm glad to see an end in sight for their hard work and anguish.

Now we're faced with the possible end of the pandemic. We've had to get used to it for about nine months and now we'll have to get used to life without it. I know the part about "life without the pandemic" will be easy, but what about the rest of it? I find myself a little concerned about what has changed permanently. How many bricks-and-mortar stores will never come back? Will we be able to sit down in a restaurant? Is it true what I've read, that theatres are a thing of the past? (I doubt it, but I don't know.) Will there be a DH in the NL? What else will be different that I haven't even considered?

I'm silly enough that I'll partially miss wearing a mask sometimes. It sure keeps my face warm on these cold mornings, but more than that, it gives me a barrier against the world. Remember: I'm an introvert. Sometimes I want to retreat, and the mask makes it easier to do that in some situations. Besides, if I want to make a face but don't want anyone to see it, the mask helps!

I think sometimes about last year and how ignorant I was. I had no idea that such a thing as a global epidemic was possible in these modern times. It's yet another example of Mother Nature, or whatever/whoever you believe, giving us a reminder that we aren't omnipotent or omniscient. We've made great strides as a species, but we're still vulnerable.

I learned a lot about human nature, too. Man, I had no idea that such large groups of people could be so stubborn. I don't want to open up a great debate (which I wouldn't anyway because no one reads this blog), but I was sad to see how many people refused to wear a mask. Obviously, there were those with legitimate health reasons, but I mean the other people. You know who you are. It's not a symbol of oppression; it's a symbol of concern for your fellow human! I see that you have none. Enough said.

And in the middle of this, I published a novel. You might think I'm crazy. You might be right. My thinking was this: I wanted to get it done, no matter when it was. And I did realize that more people were reading, so I thought maybe my novel would have a better chance. That didn't happen (I think I've sold four), but at least I gave it the opportunity.

My fantasy is that one of these days, someone will read one of them and actually like it. Maybe even love it. Then they'll discover that it's a series and read the whole thing. And still like it! And then they'll post a good review somewhere. And then they'll tell their friends. And then a lot of people will read these novels that mean so much to me, and they'll meet my characters, whom I happen to like quite a bit. That would be fun. I've always thought it would be amazing to see a few people debating some small aspect of one of the novels. Or something like that. (I dream small.)

Anyway, I'm mostly just rambling here. It's been such a crazy year and I feel hard-pressed to say anything about it that doesn't sound ridiculous. I keep thinking that I could never write anything as "out-there" as this year has been, so what's worth writing about? I'm sure I'll come up with something someday, perhaps once the oddity of 2020 has started to fade in my memory.

I hope your year has been all right and your friends/family are safe. Here's looking forward to 2021.

Take care.

Finally

You might not believe it, but the fifth novel of the Penumbra series is now out!

Here's a look at the amazing cover by Nicole Smith:

It's now available on Amazon. There were a few glitches getting it there, which is why I didn't post here right away, but I think most of it is fixed. I see that the "Look Inside" feature isn't yet working for the paperback version, but I hope that will be functional soon.

Wow. I hardly know what to say. I'm very excited to finally get this done, but I'm sorry it's in the middle of a pandemic. I don't know if anyone is buying physical books anymore, but maybe the Kindle version will do well. Who knows?

At this point, I can say that this will be my last novel for a while. As sad as that makes me, I have to acknowledge that I don't have anything else written right now and life is so strange that my imagination feels a little insignificant.

I love my characters with all my heart. I know that they'll live on in my head, and maybe someday they'll have another adventure that I think is worth writing. If so, you'll be the first to know! For now, please enjoy the five novels I've released ... and please write a review if you read any of them. Reviews are very important in getting a novel noticed!

I'm going to try to promote this novel and then I'll consider whether I'll continue this blog or not. I suspect that I will because I don't want it to disappear, but I've learned that what I think about the future isn't always the case. 

Thank you so much for reading the blog. I've tried to be honest and not ridiculous, to give some advice and some insights, to share what I've gone through. I've written some posts on my life outside writing, so maybe I'll continue with that. It remains to be seen.

You can always check out my Facebook page for more information: Diane's Facebook Page

Thanks for your support. Stay safe!

Update on Parting Shot

Once again, I'm sorry it has been so long since I last wrote here. Life has an odd way of intruding on my intentions sometimes.

I hope you're doing well amid the chaos of our current lives. I find myself feeling a little like I've stepped into the pages of a novel ... and it's not one of mine! Whose novel is this and how do I get out? We need to have a few words about the writing style, I think.

Anyway, I do have some news! It definitely looks like I'm going to release the fifth novel, Parting Shot, this year.

I know it's hard to believe, since it's been four years since the last one and I've already said there would be a new one this year, followed by mostly silence. I don't blame you for feeling skeptical. I'm trying not to be skeptical.

I really thought it would be sooner, because I had the text ready to go in February, but then the coronavirus decided to get into the act. My artist and I were affected in different ways, but we both got sidetracked and delayed. We did the whole thing remotely, which is a testament to her creativity and patience because I found I don't always excel at describing what I want/expect in an image. We kept working, though, and I think you're going to like the result.

Here's where I am: I have uploaded the whole interior of the novel and the cover image to KDP. Both have been accepted, so I ordered a proof copy. (The Other Side taught me how crucial it is to do that every time.) The proof should get to me in a little over a week (because I'm too cheap to pay to expedite it), so we'll see what happens then. If the proof copy looks good, I'll be able to publish Parting Shot. Sometime in there, I'll also get the Kindle version available.

The end is in sight! I will keep you updated, I promise.

Thank you for your patience. Stay safe.

Descent

A few weeks ago, I went to Wilderness Park, where I walked a familiar path until it led me to a strip pit, surrounded by steep slopes and dense trees.

There were trails here that I’d never explored, mostly because they weren’t labeled and seemed little more than wildlife trails, narrow and not clearly defined. I’d debated whether I should take one, but there no signs to forbid it and I was in a mood for something different.

The path I chose was steep at first, as if to test me. I clambered up the slope and found myself on a narrow ridge, alongside the same strip pit, a dark spot on that cloudy day.

I pressed on, fighting off tree branches that tried to tear at my face, my hat, my jacket. The path had obviously not been traversed by a tall person recently, so I had to push my way through. I kept going, bending the branches aside, peering ahead to see where the path would take me. I wasn’t sure where I was or where I was going, but I consoled myself with the thought that I need only turn around to find my way back.

After a while, I stopped, faced with a dilemma. The path continued straight ahead of me, but there was another one breaking off to my left. I pondered. If I kept going straight, I would have the same easy solution to find my way back, but I might see something interesting. (It was January, though. There wouldn’t be much.) The other path was a risk, but it did seem to meander back in the general direction of the more familiar part of the park. It had already been over twenty minutes since I’d left the original strip pit, and it would be a walk of about ten or so minutes from there to my car. On such a gray and chilly day, I decided to go back.

The path on the left had several steep descents, testing me again. I had to take care not to twist an ankle on a jutting tree root or wobbly rock, all while still fending off the grasping tree branches. A few times I questioned whether I was still on an actual trail, but there was just enough there for me to believe in it.

After I half-slid down another slope, I found myself in a ravine. For a moment, I stood there and considered the fact that I didn’t think I’d ever been in a ravine before. It seemed odd and exciting, as if I’d found myself in a Bradbury story. As one would expect, it was shady and quiet, a dull brown bowl of dead leaves and slumbering trees.

Once the novelty wore off, I realized that I couldn’t see the path anymore. This caused some concern, but not fear. I knew I’d gone far enough to be close to my destination. It was simply a matter of finding a way to it.

I stepped out farther into the ravine. There were no visible trails. As I looked up the incline on the opposite side, though, I thought something about it seemed familiar. I recalled a trail that leads beside a ravine and I wondered if that might be it. Even if it wasn’t, the higher ground would give me a better vantage point to see where I was.

Getting up was not easy. The leaves wanted to slide underfoot and the ground was just damp enough to offer little purchase. More than once I had to grab at a tree trunk to halt my backward slide back into the ravine. I clambered and grasped, determined to reach the top … and I finally made it.

I stood there, panting and disheveled but smiling. I was on the trail I’d hoped to find and it led straight back to my starting point. I looked down into the ravine, which didn’t seem so forbidding from this height. It was quiet and unbothered by humanity, biding its time until spring would bring it back to life.

     Then I turned away and walked back toward my regular life.