Author: Jonathon

One of the new things I’m trying to do is enjoy my success. Part of that is that my schedule, though arduous, is flexible. So, this week, Jon and I went to a movie in the middle of the day. Had to get home in time for him to pick the kiddo up from school, but we managed to fit the movie in.
We saw, “Superhero Movie”, yes, it was stupid, but not so stupid that it wasn’t funny. Though, some of the humor, as with most of these kinds of movies, was a little too over the top sometimes for me. But over all just stupid enough to be funny. I would say wait for DVD, or go to an early show rather than paying evening movie prices.
There were other movies we wanted to see, but either they didn’t have earlier enough start times, or they were movies that we wanted to take Trinity to. The middle of the day, just the two of us, movie is about seeing something that wouldn’t be kid-safe.
One of the things that I learned from my first marriage going under, was that you have to work at being married. Staying happy isn’t accidental. One of the ways you stay happy as a couple is that you don’t give up all the things that made you enjoy each other when you were dating, or back when you were both still just friends. What do I mean by that?
One of the things that began our serious friendship and would eventually lead to actual dating was that we both could go to movies in the middle of the day. We both found out, by accident, that we were going by ourselves, and we decided to combine forces. Both of us can, and have, gone to movies by ourselves, but we both agree that it’s better with a friend. It was.
But in the last few years, the schedule has been rather harsh, and I just couldn’t see my way clear to movies in the middle of a kid-free work day. Logical, extremely, Mr. Spock would be proud. But logic and being a happy couple, are not always the same thing.
So, I made the decision early in the morning that we would see a movie, period, whether I had my pages done for the day, or not. It ended up being, or not, but I was okay with that. My husband and I got to go out in the middle of the day, and see a movie, something we hadn’t done in awhile. It was nice, and it reminded us of those early days, when you’re first becoming a couple. It’s so easy to get in a routine, that is mostly about the children, the job, and other very grown-up things. But sometimes, you need to remind each other what it was that brought you together. Maybe it’s sports, movies, books, history, horticultural, music, cars, dancing, so many things bring us together. Whatever it is, don’t loose it completely.
People say, and I say it, too, that the kiddo will never be this little again. That is true. But you know what, Mom and Dad will never be this age again, either. If you live your whole life around the kids, your twenties, your thirties, your forties, your fifties, are never coming back. It isn’t just childhood that is slipping away, if you don’t pay attention. Life is what’s slipping away. Someday the kids will be grown and on their own, don’t forget how to be yourself, or how to be a couple, because that is what remains when the children go. You, your spouse, and your sense of what it means to be a couple.
May I add for my friends that do not have children, that the same rules apply. It may be less complicated without kids to maneuver around, but work, and other duties, can still eat your life, and make you into strangers with your partner. Make a list of things you used to do, but haven’t done in awhile, and see if there’s any way to dust that list off and go have some fun.

We woke up at 4:40 this morning to an earth quake. We’re all right, the side of the house wasn’t shaken that hard. I lived in Los Angeles for a few years, we’d have said the quake missed us. Unless you’re in a very tall building, then a little movement of the earth is a lot of movement in the building.
We actually thought it was a Tornado, because it rattled the windows and shook the wall. We scrambled into robes and looked outside. The wind was utterly still. So, not the big wind storm. Then I had a deja vu moment, I knew this sensation. I said, “Earthquake, it’s an earthquake.”
Jon actually argued with me, a wee bit, but in the end we could think of no other explanation. We got up to the the news saying, indeed, it was an earthquake. We had the initial shake, then a moment, or two, of quiet, then a second tremor, a little less than the first. Aftershocks. The toads that are now in high gear in the pond in back of the house never stopped singing.
The epicenter of the quake was to our east, but the shock hit the house only on the west side. It must be something to do with the ground in this area and how it conducts the energy of the movement. But it was certianly an adrenlin pumping way to wake up this morning.

Still having trouble with this scene. Not only is it not going to be the big fight scene I originally planned, but it may not be a fight scene at all. Merry has figured out a way to simply leave in safety. I finally called Jon over the intercom and whined to him about it. He said a smart thing. “Whose whining that this scene isn’t the big fight scene?”
I thought about it for a moment, then said, “Me.”
“Whose story is it?” he asked.
“Merry’s,” I said.
“How does she feel about this scene not being a big fight?”
“Relieved.”
I went back to my computer and made some notes, because Jon is right. I’m impatient to get some of the major villains finished off, but for Merry it’s real danger. Danger to her, to the men she loves. So, she’s figured out a way to leave fairie safely, and frustrate her enemies. They’ll try, but they can’t touch her right now. Smart her; puzzled me. But, as my sweetie says, “Whose story is it?”
Merry just wants a safe trip out of fairie and to get back to the relative safety of Los Angeles. That’s her goal. The fact that my goal is to do this one big scene, is a writer’s goal, a plot-driven goal, not a character-driven goal. I find that often when I try to concentrate on plot over character that the writing slows, and the characters argue. Okay, Anita argues. Merry is more passive aggressive, she just fixes it so that my plan doesn’t always work. She doesn’t argue, she just doesn’t cooperate.
But Jon said one thing that was comforting, and not at all frustrating, “Maybe you’ll get to do the big fight scene later.” He’s right, again. (There are so many reasons that we work well as a couple.) Maybe this means that all those sticky notes on the wall will actually be what the final battle with this villain will actually be about. That would be cool.
But for today, I’m going with Merry’s plan. It’s a good plan. I’ve said it before, my imagination is very smart, and will often figure things out before I do. The problem comes when my conscious brain tries to fight my subconscious. The subconscious almost always trumps, because it seems to see the big picture, in a very Jungian way. Of course without the front of the head making me stick to deadlines and work schedules, the magic and mystery in my subconscious would just be dreams, wishes. There is magic both in the dream, and the dreamer; in the wish, and the work.

I got no pages yesterday. God knows I tried, but nothing. I finally had to walk away from the computer, the book, all of it. I could feel my imagination thinking, rolling around, almost liquid, as if the ideas were floating on some metaphysical ocean, and I just had to find the right way to coax something out of the that warm, deep, water.

Usually when I take some time to let the thoughts percolate, by morning I’m ready. My muse has found a way around the problem, but not this morning. This morning I still didn’t want to go to the computer and work on this scene. Why?

It is the climatic fight scene of the book, SWALLOWING DARKNESS, but more than that it’s a scene I’ve had on the drawing board since almost the beginning of the first book. It’s not just a climatic fight scene for this book, but one of the climaxes for the series. Not, THE, climatic fight, but one of them.

I had it so clear in my head. I have had sticky notes on the wall so long they’ve begun to fade in color. I knew this scene. I knew what it would be, and how it would work . . . and I’m wrong.

Remember I put this scene together somewhere after A KISS OF SHADOWS was written. DARKNESS is the seventh book in this series. A lot of character development and plot has happened between book one, and this book. A lot. Some of it planned, and some of it not. This morning I realized that I had to let go of the scene I thought I would be writing at this point in the series. I had to let go of my sweeping epic battle, as planned. I had to redo, rethink, let the characters be true to themselves, rather than my ideals.

It took me about twenty-four hours to let go of the scene, that would not work, and begin the scene that would. I’ve got six pages done today, and I’ve set up what we’re doing. It’s not what I wanted to do, but it’s what works. It’s true to my magic system, my characters, and my plot that has come before. I can’t break my own rules now. Dammit.

So, six pages of progress, and tomorrow hopefully more.

Remember the cactus pictures from Crane Point in Florida? Well, a fan is pretty sure she’s identified them. Hylocereus undatus in latin, but I prefer the common terms. Belle of the Night, or Dragonfruit cactus, is native to the area and most likely the one photographed.
How cool is that? What great names for a cactus; Belle of the Night, Dragonfruit. I never knew the names for cactus could be so romantic.
Thanks to Betsy for the info.

I drove the Foose to lunch today. I drove it to the restaurant, and back home again. In the past, I’ve driven either to, and let Jon drive back, or let him drive out, and I drive back. Even Charles has done that, driving out, then I drove back. But today, for the first time, I drove all of it.
Oh, and for those who seem under the mistaken idea that Charles works full time over here;nope. He’s got his own business, that takes up much of his time. Sorry, if I gave any other impression.
Anyway, the only way to learn to work the clutch and the gas, is practice. So, I’m driving to lunch this week, unless it hails again. It did that Sunday and the Foose, aka the Baby, is not driving out in hail.
I did pretty good today. I killed the engine in traffic only once. I had some trouble on a downward slope in a parking lot (slopes are the bane of all of us learning to drive stick shifts), but even that wasn’t bad. There was that one bad moment when I had some confusion between where fourth gear and second are, but it wasn’t too bad. Jon clued me that I could practice shifting with the car turned off in the driveway, so I could get the muscle memory down between shifting, steering, and the clutch.
Another first, I parked in the garage without giving the car over to Jon to park. It’s a tight fit, and I’m not as tall as Jon so I don’t see over the hood, as well. But today, I decided, it’s my car, dammit, and I’m driving it. No more cowardly giving up.
I finally realized why cars are becoming my hobby. It’s finally something that has nothing to do with my work, and the odds of it becoming a job are slim. It’s not research, it’s just fun. Almost everything else has turned into either work, or at least, research. The cars are an end in themselves. They’re just fun. I think I’m overdue to find something that was just for the fun of it. I also suspect that I will never be brilliant at it; not at the driving part, or Goddess forbid, the mechanical part. I’ll learn more, and get better, but I don’t believe it will ever be my calling. Would any of you understand, if I said, that it’s nice to have something I don’t have to be brilliant at?
I reread that last bit and had to add that, I’m still afraid of cars. I don’t like being afraid, not of anything. I don’t know any other way to get over a fear than to face it. The Foose is like sweet, mechanical proof that I’m half attracted to what scares the shit out of me. I guess my writing shows that, too. But the books don’t sit in the garage and shine in the light. The stories don’t vibrate under my hands, or growl down the street, or die in a shaking lunge when you’ve fed them too much gas. Maybe someday I’ll find something fun that is just fun, and has nothing to do with conquering yet another part of myself. But for now, there’s the Foose, and watching Charles, and others, drift. We’ll see how far I go to defeat this particular fear. We’re researching driving schools.

Jon and I woke up today with a song in our heads. The song was “Alligator in the House”, by S.J. Tucker. We went to a house concert of her’s Friday night.
It was a blast. We now have all her albums, and having seen her in person now, I’ll compare her to Voltaire. Yeah, he’s the King of Perky Goth, and S.J. Tucker is new age/pagan rock. It’s not their type of music that reminds me of each other. It’s the live show versus the album. As good as the album is, the live show is better. More fun, more funny, and you get the little stories behind things, audience participation, and those spontaneous moments that some performers just know how to play off of. Also, both of them have songs that tell stories, or find charming ways to explore hard truths. Down right funny ways, for some of it, some is more serious, but they reminded me of each other. Though, in totally different ways. Does that even make sense? Whether it does, or not, it’s still true.
There’s also a little Tori Amos in some of the songs, and Darla even compared her to Janis Joplin. I can’t speak to the latter, but S. J. does have that classic female rock voice, at times. With some songs you could close your eyes and feel the summer heat, and smell the grass, and believe you’re at a Renaissance Fair. To say that her music is diverse is an understatement.
The Wendy (Yes, that Wendy as in Peter Pan) Trilogy of songs is worth getting the album SIRENS on their own, but it’s also the album with the alligator song on it. Plus the first track, “Drowning”, which is a serious subject, done in an almost gospel style. “Carousel”, is simply a beautiful song, sort of melancholy, and magical, but then it’s about the carnival, which is always something I’ve always had mixed feelings about. I had a bad experience in one of the traveling fairs as a child, and it’s left me with something near a phobia of them.
This is just one album, and there’s a lot to enjoy. It’s an album that gets better with repeat listening, which is the best kind of album. I always hate it when I get a new album, and find that after one, or two, listenings, it just doesn’t stand up. S. J. Tucker’s songs stand up, and talk back. She has an amazing voice, and SIRENS doesn’t show all her voice can do. You have to explore some other albums to get the beginnings of her range, and her talent. “Crystal Cave” from HAPHAZARD let’s her voice soar. “City of Marrow” from SOLACE & SORROWS is beautiful and dark. Of course, “Kingdom of the Mice” is probably one of the most disturbing, and fun, songs I’ve heard in awhile. Anyone whose been in their kitchen in the dark and seen that quick, dark, shape blur across their floor, and get a thrill of fear from something so small, will listen to this song and go, “I knew mice weren’t just cute Disney characters.” BLESSINGS is as close to a religious album as my faith gets. I love “Hymn to Herne”. It was my request at the end of the concert. I also love “Come to the Labyrinth” from this album.
She’s about my own height, but her voice is huge.
She did a couple of songs that aren’t recorded yet, and are only avaiable on YouTube right now. One was “Ravens in the Library”, which was too fun.
We took some video of the concert with her permission, and will try to take some stills from it, and put up more about the concert later, but I didn’t want to wait for technology to catch up with the blog. I was too impatient, and wanted to share with you guys, what a great time we had, now.
It must have been a good time because we got home about 2:30 A. M. No, she did not sing that whole time. After she finished her second set, she, and her crew, stayed and talked. The visiting was not better than the music, nope, but it was very cool, and fun. S. J. burns with her muse the way I do with mine. I don’t see many performers that are as in tune with their inner voice, as I am. It’s always nice to meet another light. Why the word “light”, because it is a kind of glow, and people are drawn to it. Some nights you feel lost in the dark, and you will put on music, or a movie, or read a book, so that some of the light of that creation can shine on you, and you feel connected again. You know you are not alone in the dark, because there is light touching your ears, your eyes, your finger tips.
In case you want some light of your own, here’s the web site: www.sjtucker.com, or, and, www.skinnywhitechick.com for music and merch. Enjoy, I know I did.

These are the last of the pictures from Crane Point Nature Center. The first few pictures are of that mystery cactus. We had a couple of fans write in and say that they needed more pictures before they could be certain what it was, so, here they are, all the cactus pics we have.

This is a picture from lands end, literally as far as we could walk without swimming. The sailboat seemed both beautiful and lonely out there on the water.

Crane Point has the oldest continuously existing house in the Keys. It’s the Adderly House, and here are some pictures from it. The first one is Jon and my favorite, an interior shot that turned out even more atmospheric than we’d planned.

Here’s a close up of the plaque inside explaining who George Adderly was.

Me striding into a shot of the bedroom. I don’t often get to see me walking alone like that. I always walk like I’ve got a purpose. I’ve had people remark on that since college, that I always seemed to be going somewhere, and always in a hurry. Put me with someone and I change my pace for the person, but on my own, well, it’s a stride.

An exterior shot showing the house and the kitchen. Without air conditioning you didn’t cook in the main house in the tropics. Here in St. Louis some of the older houses still have summer kitchens sepearte from the main house. It gets hot here, too.

This is a picture of the ocean and the far shore, but those black dots are more of the spiny orb weavers.

Turkey vulture

Here are some of the pics from the wild bird rescue. A brown pelican grooming itself. More brown pelicans and some cormorants. There was a pen of gulls, and one of song birds, and even some birds of prey. The Kestrel seemed at peace with it’s one winged status, but the female Peregrine was not a happy bird. I watched her on the floor of her cage, hunching down, spreading her wings in preparation for launching skyward, then when there was only one wing, she would stop. She seemed puzzled, then she’d fold her wings back, then unfurl them, start to launch, and stop. Puzzled again. The Osprey in the cage with her had been there long enough that he’s used in programs around at the local schools.

The birds ranged in injuries from cars, to boats, to swallowed fishing hooks. In fact, we saw a cormorant in the wild that had a huge hook in it’s mouth, and the people that were running the boat called these guys to come and help. Without this group the nearest rescue is about two hours or more away. A lot can happen to a wounded bird in two hours, so it’s good that the middle Keys has their own rescue.

Well, that’s it for Crane Point and the bird rescue. Next vacation pics will be dolphins.

I always see quotes, essays, and interviews as a burden. Other writers don’t seem to think so, and I could never figure out why, or rather why not. Yesterday I figured it out.
I don’t count the extra assignments in my daily page count. Why is that a problem?
Because I’ll do four or even twenty pages on a book, then four pages on a newsletter piece, or two pages on a blog, or five pages on an interview, and none of it subtracts a page from my page count. I can do ten pages extra, and I still don’t count it against the daily out put. It wasn’t book pages, or short story, so, somehow, it didn’t count for me.
Yesterday I got no pages done on the books, though I did call my friend Shawn and ask him some military research questions. So nice when your friends are ex-military and current cop. But I didn’t actually make progress on either book, so I started to count my page count as zero for the day. Which was sort of depressing, then I had a thought.
I went back to all the other things I’d done that day, and counted. I had five pages for the day. One page over my daily minimum. I had done one page of quote, by the time I was happy with it. I had done two pages of blog. I had done two pages of interview. Add it up, and it is pages for the day.
I’m finally giving myself credit for all the writing I do in a day, not just the book pages. I could say, about time, but I’ll try to be more positive. I’m learning. It’s all about learning from your oversights and doing better next time.

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