Lyda Morehouse's Blog, page 73

Updatery

I'm officially overdue on my WiP now. It took a lot longer to recover from the total computer crash than expected, but I *do* think that the revision has made this a much stronger book. I have about 30,000 words left to write, which, if I push things, I can do in 15 days.

I may be fairly absent here, though, because of that.

Not much to report over the weekend, anyway. It really feels like fall here in the Twin Cities, so we got a lot of around the house errands done. I tend to gear up, physically, this time of year. So, there is paint ready to be applied to fences and walls and all sorts of projects like that. I also made a lovely batch of roasted acorn squash soup that's quite delicious as well. I'll be having that for lunches for the next several days, I think.

Mason has started up a new swimming class. He's in level 2, and he loves it. Now that he's figured out how to float, he's really got a lot more confidence in the water. It's nice to see.

We were all set to have him start painting the back fence when his friend from across the street came over. As Shawn posted in her FB: fence painting can wait, childhood can't. I do love that we have that sort of thing going in our neighborhood right now, where there are kids who know they can come over, knock on the door, and have Mason come out to play. That reminds me of my own childhood.

For myself, I really need to figure out how to get to the gym in the mornings/afternoons, so that I can get into the habit before the snow flies.

Okay, enough of this for now. Must write.

Stuff!

Okay, lots to report. First of all, for those of you following along on the "all that crap" keyword, (aka, my father's lingering struggle with a number of health issues), there is FINALLY good news to report. He is at the recovery wing of the nursing home again, having been given a clean bill of health from the doctors at the hospital. Though they're still not entirely sure what what caused his mini-strokes (TIA), they think it has to do with heart arthythmia that he developed after the hip replacement surgery. Also, I need to post a correction: apparently, he (thankfully!) only suffered TWO mini-strokes, the first one that had everyone worried because it lasted several hours, and a second that lasted no more than a minute or so. At any rate, the good news is the docs sent him on for recovery and now he only has to focus on re-learning how to walk after six months of near-inactivity (though they always worked to keep his leg strength up during his previous nursing home stays.)

Secondly, I attended a "breaking" workshop at KSW. I failed to break my board. I was one of only two adults unable to do it. I suspect, considering the bruises that have developed and where they are on my hand, my technique was off. (Also, huge mental block: I kept thinking -- I have no health insurance; if I do this wrong and break a knuckle, no only have I messed up my writing career, I have bankrupted my family.) This experience has made me convinced that I was a T-Rex in a past life: I'm viscious, but have _zero_ upper body strength. ;-)

I should also say, I had no problem breaking the practice boards. Just confronted with a solid piece of wood freaked me out.
Everyone was so very sweet and concerned for my ego at the workshop. Though my hand is bruised, my ego is not, my friends. Master Barry Harmon (Kwan Jang Nim) made a point of pulling me aside and telling me that a) I had a lot to work on, and b) that he was proud that I never gave up. I said something self-depricating at the time, but I wish I'd told him what I said to Nicki (Jo Kyo Nim) when she asked me to consider why I do Kuk Sool Wan, and that is, "I do this because it's fun, Master, and giving up *isn't* fun."

The other news is that my psuedonym continues to be successful as all get out. Tate can report that you can now not only pre-order the mass-market paperback edition of Tall, Dark & Dead via Amazon.com, but also the third, and final novel in the vampire princess of St. Paul series, Almost Everything.

So, I guess that's all I got for now. I have to run off to volunteer because it's Thursday!

Dad Update

My mom reported this morning that my dad had his third mini-stroke (TIA). The doctors are still trying to figure out what's causing these, but Gunderson Hospital has an excellent stroke clinic so he's in the best hands possible. Both he and my mom have been very positive still. He asked her to go check his mailbox at Viterbo University and they've been making plans for when he's out. I guess one of the things that has really helped his mood is that his hip feels so much better. He can really finally use his leg after all this time.

As I said on Facebook, I'm weirdly proud that I'm related genetically to ol' "Bullet." He's been through a lot physically and emotionally and he keeps coming up fighting.

I would like now, however, for all his positive energy to be rewarded. It would be all right if the universe wanted to stop throwing curve balls at him, and he could have a nice long period of good health!

My Dad, aka "Bullet"

You know the Jewish tradition where, when someone is gravely ill, you give them a new name, so that the Angel of Death will walk by when he comes looking for them? Well, my dad has always gone by a nickname, "Mort." I'm really starting to believe that the angel of death keeps showing up asking for "Richard Morehouse" and, only finding this "Mort" guy, leaves.

I got a call yesterday morning that my dad had a stroke.

Yes, this after successfully surviving sepsis, c-def, and months in the recovery wing of the nursing home while waiting for a hip replacement. My mom had been worried, starting Saturday, because my dad was having a really difficult time recovering from the surgery. It went into overtime by several hours, and, while my dad is clearly a really tough bird, it really seemed to have knocked him back. She said he was confused at one point and thought he was still getting ready to go into surgery. This freaked me out, but all the other signs seemed okay, so I tried to put it out of my mind.

Then, on Sunday, after I took Shawn to the airport (she's off on a work trip to a conference in Washington, D.C.), I got home to the message. I'd left my cell charging because it had run out of battery unexpectedly the night before. (For some reason it's stopped giving me the warning beeps when it's low.) Anyway, there were three fairly frantic messages from my mom. I finally was able to call her back and find out what was going on.

He'd had a stroke. The doctors said they think it was a kind of stroke called a transient ischemic attack. They'd know more in 48 hours. (Now having read the wikipedia article, I know why. Apparently the effects are reversable if they last as long as 24 hours, but fewer than 72.)

I'm still not entirely clear WHY this happened to my dad. The surgery he underwent was pretty routine, even if it did go into overtime. He's been through a LOT in the last six months, but he was in fairly good shape when they checked him in before the procedure. Though, he has had problems with blood clots in the past, it's not clear that's what caused this. The multitude of theories my mom has heard from various doctors include the absorption rate of the anesthesia during the long procedure to something messed up in his brain stem... none of which are very clear to me or make a whole lot of sense.

The important thing is that he's regained his speech as of this morning, and strength has returned to his right side. Right now, as long as things continue to be stable, the doctors are predicting a full recovery.

I tell you though, this has been a serious emotional ride for me (as I'm sure it has been ten times that for my mom and my dad's sister, Mary Ann, who has been a trouper by showing up every day during this entire saga.) Last night, I had the craziest nightmare that I know is related. I had one of those dreams where someone is trying to get into the house. I'm trying to avoid being see by this shadowy figure -- ducking down before reaching up to lock windows, avoiding answering the door. I'm in the upstairs bathroom with Shawn and I'm telling her, "for god's sake, don't tell anyone it's okay to come in," when I realize it's too late. The shadowy figure is at the landing of the stairs. I'm completely impotent against it. I try to throw a recipie book I'm holding at it, but it bounces of (or passes through, at any rate, it's useless). I'm trying to tell it that I can see it and it should go away, but my mouth won't work, I've got something stuck in my throat. I can't breathe. That moment freaks me out so much that I wake up. My heart is pounding.

I actually go up to make sure no one was on the landing, of course. And I took my asthma medicine in case I really WAS having trouble breathing, but as I laid in bed thinking about that dream. I knew it was the angel of death. I was trying, subconsciously, to keep the "wolves" from the door.

Maybe it worked. Fingers crossed.

Little Miss Cranky Pants

I think having two nights in a row where I was up past midnight has put me in a kind of easily ticked off mood.

I listened to the first fifteen minutes of the Stephanie Miller Show and heard the clip of the folks who booed the gay soldier at the Republican debate last night, and I have been angrily muttering to myself like a crazy person all morning. Some guy moved out of my way as I was leaving the coffee shop as I was saying under my breath, "Respect the uniform, you yahoos!"

Then, we found out this morning that one of Mason's friends is terribly sick and he's going to have to cancel the sleepover that Mason has been looking forward to for several weeks now. I'm not cranky at the poor kid who was up this morning puking his guts out or the parents for being responsible enough to let us know; I'm just bummed because this is the third weekend in a row Mason has had plans with friends that got cancelled. I'm particularly cranky, entirely selfishly, because every weekend I've been looking forward to having some alone time with Shawn...

... which has just made me extra foul-tempered.

So, if you see me on the street, be like that guy this morning and just edge out of my way!

Life, Such as it is...

Okay, well, that was quite the trip, and, alas, my poor father's saga is not yet complete! Last things first: his surgery went overtime yesterday by about two hours. I ended up having to leave for the train station before hearing from the doctor, but my mom called. From what I understand the surgery was complicated by the fact that the surgeon accidentally broke my dad's femur while fixing his hip. This apparently happens more often than you might expect. It may also mean that, depending on how severe the break is, he may still have to stay off that leg for a while...

...which would mean back to the nursing home for more physical therapy!

AAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH.

I'm going to call my mom in a little while, actually, and see what news. They weren't happy with the x-rays they were able to get in the operating room, so today they will get more, clearer pictures and hopefully know whether or not the break will be able to withstand pressure or not. If it can, they'll patch it up and send him home. If it can't... see above.

My poor pa. It's like a Series of Unfortunate Events, only without the bestselling novel and the funny bits.

The trip down and back were both, uh, "interesting."

Down was much as I expected. The shuttle bus is tiny, cramped and frought with polka (at least the second half of the journey always is). The first shuttle down to Rochester had me cheek (as in butt) to cheek with two other women the entire way. On my left was a woman who currently lives in Iowa but was clearly Not-From-Around-Here because she really, REALLY wanted to tell me all about her trip to Atlanta. I managed to avoid much of that by "meditating" (aka turning on my meditation mp3s and napping) for a good solid chunk of the trip, but when we got into Rochester, she was fit to burst and needed to talk my ear off until we got to the main hotel. Luckily, that was only a few minutes, and she was actually quite pleasant, if non-stop.

The second bus driver is the guy who loves polka. There's ALWAYS smelly food ingested by someone, BUT, twice so far, at least, I've gotten to have a seat to myself to stretch out in. The people behind me this time: two old ladies and an older gentleman were probably the funniest part. You know how some people can just talk about nothing, but not in a funny Seinfield sort of way, really NOTHING? Well, these were those ladies. They were also weridly noisy. They asked me about my laptop's wallpaper (a villa in Italy) and I think they were reading my novel over my shoulder as I was writing which was... awkward to say the least. I ended up giving up trying to write after only a few paragraphs. The bus was bumpy anyway, and I kept accidently sliding my arm across the touch pad and launching functions I wasn't intending.

I did get a lot of writing done on the train ride home, but, this time, instead of pleasant Amish folks, I got on the car with the drunk, party people. There were even Australians for god's sake!

Plus, I noticed as the train pulled in that its engine number was 13. Cue dramatic music!!! Yes, and we were randomly delayed four or five times along the route. The first time it was freight train traffic. The second... MARINE traffic! (Seriously, the railroad bridge had opened for a barge and we had to wait for it to swing closed and be locked down.) Then, we had to wait for some other Amtrack to pass us, and the most maddening of all? We were delayed just outside of the Amtrack station itself... which meant I could SEE MY HOUSE from the car, but I couldn't get off!!!!!

AARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHH.

I ended up walking home around 11 pm, feeling wholly dissatisfied. I would at least feel as though it was a good thing that I was there to keep my mom company, but I think her worry about my travel arrangements may have actually added to her stress rather than relieving any of it.

So, a pretty crazy couple of days, honestly.

At least I got a ton written.

Poor Little Rich Folks

I have to rant here because I don't want to engage on someone else's FB status. Srsly? You want me to have sympathy for the rich because they might FINALLY be asked to pay their fair share? Do you EVEN KNOW what percentage tax *I* pay as a self-employed writer? 30% !! On about (this year) $8,000 (yes, a$$hole, that's my TOTAL yearly income.) And, you want me to feel sorry for some rich jerk who pulls in more than a MILLION dollars a year? Who might be asked to pay 10% of that? Let's see, 10% of a million vs. 30% on 8,000... which of us is suffering again?

I'm sorry, I can't hear your talking points over the sound of my head exploding.

/rant

Updatery

I need to stay focused on writing the WiP, but I wanted to take a few moments to update the blog a bit.

Tonight I head down to LaCrosse again. My father has been FINALLY been dubbed infection free, so, with any luck, they will be scheduling his hip replacement surgery. Regardless, I will be down on Wedendsday to help my mom get furniture moved around in anticipation of the long awaited home coming. Hooray!

While I'm NOT looking forward to the shuttle bus ride down (see previous blog regarding this experience,) I can't wait for the train ride home. I really love taking the train, and last time, thanks to the fact that there's no WiFi on the train, I got a LOT of writing done. Watch: this time I'll fall asleep or something and not get a single word down.

I'm currently hanging out at a new downtown coffee shop called Claddaugh. It's LOVELY. If you are on 7th Avenue (near the Day By Day Cafe,) you should totally check it out. They make an awesome meil, which they call a Black and Tan -- which, if you know me, you understand that I have some trouble ordering by name because of their history in Ireland. I also have to resist singing "Come out ye, Black and Tans" under my breath. But, the coffee is AWESOME as is the decor. You should see this place! Exposed brick, chadeliers, hard wood floors! And, you know, I'll take Irish in whatever form it comes.

I need to pack up soon, alas, because I told Shawn I'd give her a ride to a meeting. Of course, it's absolutely gorgeous out now, but it was raining when I agreed to this. :-)

In other news, I continue to enjoy my WiP, which probably spells its utter doom. Thanks to advice given by my mom one of the last times I was down in LaCrosse, I'm writing like I'm 15 again. That is to say, I'm just letting whatever cool idea occurs to me find a place in the book. Why not, eh?

I'm also recoverding VERY SLOWLY from a nasty cold -- mostly chest congestion, which has been particularly brutal because of my asthma. Normally, I don't suffer unless I excercise, but the congestion has caused me to rely on my inhaler much more than I normally would. I did kuk sool wan last night, and, weirdly, I think that actually cleared me up for a bit. However, this morning I woke up nearly choking on all the phlegm. Gross! I can't wait for this to pass.

Hope you all are well. If I get a chance, I'll write from LaCrosse.

Sad, but Unsurprising News

I posted this elsewhere, but I should also let y'all know that I had a conversation with my agent earlier this week and she let me know that Penguin has turned down my proposals for more Ana books (that would be Tate's Vampire Princess of St. Paul books.) So, the final installment will be ALMOST EVERYTHING, which is coming to a store near you in February of 2012.

What is ironic about this, is that I was actually really starting to get into them. In fact, I remember telling Shawn after I finished the proposals, "I sort of want to write these. A lot. That means they won't sell, you know."

I hate being right about things like this. :-)

But, all is not lost. I'm still hard at work on Tate's newest book, which may or may not be the beginning of another series, called PRECINCT 13. It was actually supposed to be turned in by now, but I had a series of unforunate events, not the least of which was the massive computer crash in which I lost everything I'd written on it to-date. I'm on schedule to have the book turned in early October. Fingers crossed.

Every time I think I should feel depressed about things like this, I tend, instead, to consider how amazingly lucky I've been so far. Once again, I have a book under contract when they've said no, so it isn't quite as scary as a "no" hanging there in the empty space between contracts. There continues to be a possiblity that PRECINCT 13 could take off like wildfire and my career at Penguin could continue for several more years.

Though I said something else the other day that unnerves me. I was talking to Eleanor or perhaps naomikritzer and I said, "I'm really getting into this book now... that probably means it's doomed."

I should say this all started because my favorite of the AngeLINK books is MESSIAH NODE, which was the first to be remaindered and the only one of my novels not to get any kind of award nod at ALL (it was the only of the four not to get picked as a "Critic's Choice" for SF by Romantic Times, even.) In other words, my favorite was the least appreciated by critics -- and, given the numbers that caused it to be taken out of print, the public as well. Ever since then I've decided that if I really, really love writing a book or I think of it as some of my best work, it's likely to perform the crappiest.

The other lucky thing about the Ana news is that I had seen the writing on the wall for once. I actually wrote ALMOST EVERYTHING so that it could be a satisfying conculsion to the series, if necessary. Before you think that I probably shot myself in the foot by doing that, I also made it EXTREMELY clear to my editor that my plan was to have a series of triolgies that would wrap up nicely every third book. The next set was going to be "the vampire queen of St. Paul" series, then "Empress" and then... perhaps, "Goddess."

But, alas, I must say goodbye to those plans.

Weirdly, Tate continues to be more successful than I ever was. Tall, Dark & Dead, in particular, seems to be somewhat unstoppable. Not only did it make money for me when we sold German rights, but I actually got a royalty check from the German publisher, which means it earned out its advance there. The book is still on schedule to have a paperback edition come out in April of 2012 here in the US. TD&D actually defies my Bizzaro World axiom. I like that book and remember enjoying writing it, though it's a book I wrote in record time (six months).

Well, I should go off and continue writing about dragon sex.

Bragging a Bit

Normally, I try to keep the "my son is SOOOOOOOOOO awesome" (how awesome is he!?)" blogs to a minimum, but I have a couple of stories about Mason I just really, really want to share.

First story the awesome rightly belongs to Mason's new teacher, Mr. G----. When I picked up Mason at school the other day we had this conversation:

Mason: "Do we have any books at home that contain a lot of information?"
Me: "Sure. We've got the Encycolpedia Britannica." (Brief explaination that we actually have several copies of the 11th edition.) Then, "Why?"
Mason: "So I can get a scholarship to Yale, of course."

This prompted a whole discussion during the rest of the ride about what undergraduate degrees are, graduate school, and Ph.D. programs. I reminded Mason that his grandpa has a Ph.D. and this got Mason even more excited. Plus, he was just about jumping out of his seat at the idea that he could actually get a degree in READING (like me, I told him, as I got a BA in English). He decided that he would get his docorate in "fantasy literature," just like one of his favorite authors J. R. R. Tolkien.

Turns out, Mr. G. had been talking about how a friend of his got a full-ride to Yale and really stressed to the kids that if they wanted to, they could go to one of the best colleges in the world and not pay a dime in tuition.

I LOVE this man.

Then, when I stopped by Mason's class yesterday to talk to Mr. G. about what time he wanted me to come in on Thursdays to do my volunteering, Mr. G. had a couple other funny stories to tell. He had an introduction excercise where he had kids write down "Three things you might not know about me...." He collected everyone's answers and read them in front of the class and had the students try to guess who the answers belonged to. When he got to Mason's he started reading, "I have an EXTENSIVE..." and hands shot up instantly. Just the use of the word "extensive" caused the entire class to guess Mason. (Full answer, even bigger clue: "extensive library at home.")

The second introduction excercise he had them do was bring in pictures of their families doing something they enjoy. Mason brought in a picture of the three of us up at a friend's cabin. But when we were going through pictures with him, he decided that, for fun, he'd bring along the picture I shared here of him reading AND swimming. Mason, ever the showman, set the picture up by saying, "As you know, one of my favorite things is reading. I also like swimming. But how about combining them?"

One of the other personality plus boys in the class, our friend from kindergarden, yelled out, "That's IMPOSSIBLE!!" (unwittingly playing the perfect straight man.)

Mason said, "Ha! I have photographic evidence!" and showed off the picture. Mr. G. was utterly delighted and has asked permission to put the extra picture up on their board in class.

Awesome.

And it's only the first week.