Kim Harrison's Blog, page 12

Second star to the right, straight on till morning

[image error]I’ve been doing what I’m doing for what seems like forever now, so I’ve become pretty good at realizing when something is off in my process and pushing on regardless, getting it done if not by the joy of it, by muscle memory, so to speak. Not to imply that I can push out a book with no thought, because even on the bad days, there’s the satisfaction of the technique.

But every writer, published or not, knows when they find the zone that time has little meaning and you purely experience what flows through your fingers and onto the page. It’s reaching back to touch what drew us to the written world when we were five, or ten, or fifteen; to be more than what we are, if only for a moment and remember what we knew then: to live it in your mind is to have lived it. Period.

The zone is the unicorn of the writing world, oft seen in the distance, worked toward, grasped for, interrupted and broken by the dog, the kid, the phone, the spouse, the printer running out of ink. Life intrudes. But when you find it, even for an hour, you connect to the essence of why we put up with the rest of the crap of plot holes, bad motivations and pacing, and the career killer, indifference.

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I don’t want to say it’s been a while because I don’t keep track of my zone days. But I can say I’ve been finding them more lately, that the pure peace of creation has crept back into my daily routine again. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not roses and cream over here. Every day is still “the best day” my dog is going to have, there’s this winter that won’t let go, and the “6:00 pm” haze of background noise coloring everything. But what defines me is satisfying again. There is movement, a growth toward the pure simplicity of story as the heavy dross is knocked away.

I think you’re going to like who I’ve been spending my day with, and if you don’t? Well, I’ve still got the zone.

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Bluebirds remind me of my Grandpa

[image error]If you’ve been lurking on my blog for any length of time, you know that I live right in the city, but being small, my “city” is kind of rural, as in the middle of cornfields, lakes, and woods.  I can walk to a handful of restaurants and shops, but there are deer jumping my fence to eat my Hosta, and we’ve caught them more than once resting in the middle of the road to soak up the heat. With Ann Arbor and the university culture only fifteen minutes down the road, there are a lot of artists and retired teachers around, and our farmers market has everything from maple syrup tapped just down the road, to artisan goat, sheep, and cow cheese made within spitting distance.

To say I love living here between forest frog ponds and higher learning is an understatement. I’m doubly lucky in that not only did I have the good fortune to grow up here with the belief that this kind of mental diversity and artistic talents overflowing into cottage industry is normal, but I left it for over a decade so that I recognized that it is not. At least, not everywhere.

But I was supposed to be talking of my grandpa and bluebirds. I saw my first bluebird on a walk with my grandpa, who lived at the end of a winding dirt road between a shallow lake and a twisted woods, and so when they show up at my city feeder, I’m always reminded of him.

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This week, the sudden four inches pushed them from the thickets a block over and into the city looking for the feeders and some open water. I probably won’t see the bluebirds again after the snow melts. Still, it was nice to see them just this short time, to know they are still around.

Lots of people got some, did you?

Snow has its place, and apparently, it’s in my yard right now. We are covered in the white stuff, putting us back into deep winter after we not only lost our snow, but the ground had thawed enough to have earthworms on the surface, looking for a hot date.

But it was too soon, anyway, so I don’t lament loosing an early spring as much as you might think. I will admit I’m anxious to get in the yard and rebuild my summer muscles, and believe me, there is a difference. To help compensate, I’ve been doing some prep exercises to rebuild my core so it doesn’t hurt so much when I finally do get into the yard.

I’ve had an absolutely gorgeous male robin lurking about the property. Yesterday, he came in to take the bluebird nuggets from my regular feeder, and now, desperate for water, he’s been coming in even closer to take advantage of the open water in my koi pond. If you want birds in the winter, put out water!

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As for me,  I’ve been lazing about in front of the fire with my dogs, busy making a dragon to auction off at Dragon Con this summer in Atlanta. Wings are done, and I’m starting the feet. If you look close, you’ll see I’ve got two sets of wings in the background, one gold, the other a dark blue. The way I figure it, if you’re going to make a dragon, make two. One to give, one to save.

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If you want to make a dragon of your own, the instructions are here. And please be kind. It is my own pattern. Kim Harrison’s Dragon

 

Saw the sun come up this morning

“It’s cold,” I said this morning as I came in from walking the dogs, my lips pulled tight to my teeth, breath short, unable to feel the warmth of the house in the bubble of 7:00 am air I brought in with me. It won’t last but for a day or two more. Is it fleeting last caress of winter, or a desperate clinging to the past, a refusal to change? I find it doesn’t matter. It will be gone soon, either way.

But my office is warm, and there is pleasure in watching the sun come up, a satisfaction in setting the promotional mind aside and turing all thoughts to creation, the jiggling of ideas like marbles in my hand, picking out the ones that catch my fancy. A red one with the golden eye of passion, flashes between the multitudes of slate grays, each with chips and dings, scratches of loss. Solid gold spheres of epiphany stand out among the steadfast greens, clatterings of perseverance and goal–motivation.

I roll them in my hand, each one chattering against the others like memories, sift them through my mind to create flow, and finally set them in stately rows upon my desk, stringing them together with words. But it takes time. Lots of time.

I think it’s going to be a good day.

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The marbles pictured here were found while remodeling our old house, behind walls, under floors, but mostly outside in the garden, little nuggets of the past finding me while I had my head turned to the earth, fingers deep within it. I’ve kept them all, and they sit above my hearth as a connection to those who held this ground before me.

 

 

Mr. Fish says . . . Price drop!

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Oh, woe. My local pet supply store got a new Betta display, ruining my vow to not get another Mr. Fish. Worse, my mom gave me back an empty terrarium container. My will is weak, a Betta I seek.

But when I went into my office this morning and saw him, it felt like coming home, as if he had been waiting, holding my place of where my mind was when I left off.

So I guess I’ve got that going for me.

And for you, a price drop on the e-book of The Turn! I’m so pleased, and I honestly didn’t expect this for a while, so tell your Hollows buds who have been waiting. It’s in Nook and Kindle, so I imagine it’s also in the other outlets.

Interestingly enough, Dead Witch Walking, which would make a great follow up for new readers, is also on sale for 2.99. As long as new readers realize that the Trent in DWW is the son of Kal, there should be no confusion.

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The Turn

 

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The Turn

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Dead Witch Walking

 

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Dead Witch Walking

 

 

Get your T4-Angel seeds here!

I[image error]‘ve got some good news if you wanted one of the promotional packets of T4-Angel seeds and were not able to attend a signing. Tim and I have a few hundred left, so if you want one of these bad boys, (they are really beefsteak tomato seeds) send me a SASE. (an envelope with your address and stamps on it so all we have to do is drop the packet in and mail it to you.)

If you’ve never send me a SASE, the instructions and address are at the website here: SASE instructions.

Unfortunately because these are real seeds, we can not ship overseas.

Also, if you heard about the missing chapter seven from THE TURN that features Ceri and Al and fits in between chapter six and seven of the published text, it is now available here: Original Chapter Seven.

Joseph-Beth in Cincinnati

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Joseph-Beth in Cincinnati has been one of my favorite bookstores for a long time. There’s always a big crowd coming out from Cincinnati and the Hollows, er, Covington across the Ohio River, and that night was no exception. We had great questions, some happy giveaways, and lots and lots of signing.

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And did I mention some of you wore your Hollows Turn T-shirts? Crap on toast, there were a lot of Hollows roadies! We had to move our traditional family photo to the stairway!

Next Hollows book, I’m making tie-die T’s.

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One of my favorite groups to come through the line. She got the men in her life hooked on the Hollows!

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The winner of the one-of-five poster!

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And after you leave, I sign the stock. Here I am with the ladies who kept the line moving and the caffeine in my cup, Annette and Kelly. Thanks, ladies! It was a great night.

For the rest of the boatload of pictures that were taken that night, click here. (If the page is empty, try again later. My service provider is not being  johnny-on-the-spot about updating my pages when I’m done with updating them.)

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B and N in Sacramento, CA

I’d only been to Sacramento once before, so I wasn’t sure there would be many readers to spend my evening with, but WOW, you guys came out. So many familiar faces from some of my usual spots that I wasn’t able to get to this year. And at the end of a sunny day, too. Flying in, I could see all the water damage from your rains, and I hope you have a couple of dry days after I leave. Here I am with my B&N roadies. As always, if you want a high-res copy for yourself, just click to go to the larger picture.

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We had one of those textured posters to give away, too.

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Tim caught me signing this one.

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And the very last reader, who stumbled into the signing, coming into the store to pick up a copy and finding to her surprise that I was here to sign it!

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Tonight I’ll be in Cincinnati, and I can’t wait. It always feels like coming home.

To see the rest of the photos Tim took at B&N, look here.

Mysterious Galaxy, San Diego

Mysterious Galaxy, San Diego CA

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Family photo time! I had a lot of Mysterious Galaxy roadies. I hadn’t been to MG since the Ever After tour, so this was my first time in the new store. I very much like their new digs, and I’m looking forward to seeing how their new back room evolves into chaos and loving nick knacks they all have. This is the first time I’d seen one with a fake cat perched at the ceiling, though.

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Tim getting a picture of Rob taking a picture of the family photo!

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The winners of the very limited poster. We’ve got two more to give away, and then they will be gone, just like the shirts. (Plates will be destroyed when we get home, and there will be no more.)

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Tradition dictates that this photo be taken. (grin)

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Oh, and did I mention there were some books to sign? Usually I spend my last half hour at the store signing stock. Not today! Bags and bags, but since they just wanted a signature, it was easy peasy.

Thanks for a great event, guys! I hope to come back next year, with tie-die Tour T’s!

Powell’s Books, Beaverton

Powell’s, Portland OR

Powelll’s in Portland, more specifically, the Beaverton store, is one of my favorite stores to sign in because the readers are always enthusiastic and have great questions for me. It was here that I first tried that facebook live feature so I could give readers who couldn’t make it to an event the chance to listen in to the Q and A, and it seemed to go really well. I may do it again. You can find it on my facebook page, but you’ll have to scroll to find it. Kim’s facebook

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But here I am with my Portland roadies! As you can see, we’ve got shirts from quite a few past tours! Thanks, guys. It’s because of you that it all works. And as always, click the photo to go to the higher resolution shot if you want to keep it for yourself.

[image error]Oz couldn’t make it to a signing this year, and from her letter, I know she was very disappointed, having prepped and prepared for it with a lot of anticipation. It’s okay, Oz. Demons are there to be battled, and if you make them yours and claim them, you can turn them into soft teddy bears like Al.