It's the Writer's Life for Me, Yo-Ho

[dancinghorse]

This has been a rollercoaster week for the old emotional gauge.  Tuesday was a masterpiece of Hurry Up and Wait.  Finally in the late afternoon we discovered that Pandora is in northern California, the truck blew its transmission, and she is being fed peeled grapes and larks' tongues while the driver, poor guy, waits to get it fixed.  She may leave there tomorrow, in which case she'll be here sometime around the first of next week. 

So that was a bust.

Yesterday was der pits, man, der pits.  I have seven large white reasons not to throw myself off the nearest mesa, not to mention five small furry ones and two intermediate barky ones (soon to be three, if we can get the airlines to cooperate).  Still, it was one of those days when I start looking at either other means of employment or other modes of existence, and start mentally putting pricetags on the Large White Objects.

It would help if publishers were paying these days.  Really it would.  Publishing starts to shut down on Labor Day and grinds to a complete halt after Halloween.  If you want any action from anyone, short of direst emergency, from September to the beginning of January, Forget It.  And of course no one in those large bureaucratic entities gives a rat's patoot that mortgage companies do not shut down for months at a time.  Nor does any other entity that bills people for existing.

Which is a very old seethe/rant/stressor, but that doesn't make it any less galling.  L'agent is on the case, and Action Will Get Taken, but it's an uphill fight.

Thank god for hippotherapy.  I  went out in the late afternoon and rode da Pook, and he was his most charming self.  Capria's lesson on Sunday paid off handsomely: my hands were steadier, my seat less tense, and we were able to do very nice figures and some quite acceptable trot-walk transitions, as well as maintain the trot for as long as I wanted (rather than wheezing to a halt after part of a circle--smartypants forgets to breathe).  But the best part was afterwards.  We went up to the shed to take off the saddle, then he didn't want to go back down to his dinner--he wanted to take me for walkies.  So we had walkies all over the place, down the road, across the road, rambling everywhere.  By the time we got back, I was laughing and he was a very smug pooka.

It's a milestone.  I've been carrying him emotionally for years.  This was the first time he returned the favor.  He did it extremely well, too.

Today the seethe temperature was a bit lower, helped by my total refusal to pay any attention to the circus in DC.  Pook was one large, pulsating, porcelain hormone generator--but when I called him to order, he came as sweetly as I could ask.  The Royalty Fairy bought grocery money--bless dear old After the King, which just keeps rolling along.   Horse time went well, and there was another very large milestone.  First I longed Capria, then Camilla wanted her turn.  I'm experimenting with piggybacking her sessions on the older horses', so she has their example to follow and feels more secure about the whole thing.  Today it paid off.  She volunteered a trot, then a bit of canter--all by herself, forward and willing.  The circle was a bit too small and she had a stumble over that, so I explained about bigger circles.  She felt less secure that way, but she did move better.  So she's thinking about it.  And she got lavish praise and lots of cookies.  For her to volunteer Forward is just huge.  Big, big milestone for the Stop-and-Grow-Roots Girl.  She's developing a forward gear!  Frabjous day!

Then keed and I went for a trail ride down the road and into the washes.  We're starting to have wildflowers.  He was light and lively--storm coming in;  in fact it just started raining (the smell of rain in the desert, cool and a little sharp).  We had some trot and canter, and some fairly pleasant spooks--he moves as if on gimbals and takes me right along with him.  Ayrab Side Up and all that.

Amid all this, Ephiny and I got some quality time.  She was blasting around, interacting with me, and showing off her gorgeous, scopey gaits.  She has serious suspension and power, and she defaults to Airs: weightless leaps and floating swirls and spins.  It's really not like anything else but another Lipp.   She's a big Lipp, too, so the effect is pretty potent.  When she goes up in a courbette, she towers over everything around her.  But she's light--she moves like a feather.  With warp engines. 

(Picture that crossed with Mr. Boingity Pook.)(Hubba.)

And after dinner I got my birthday present: smoemeth  and wojsvenwoj  for the weekend next week.   Woooot!

Also, there will be Cavalia--not exactly sure when yet.

Plus I had a letter from a very old friend whom I haven't seen since I was in grad school, a lady whose Morgan I used to ride, years ago in Maine.  We lost contact, but last year my uncle in Maine told me he'd made friends with her husband, and they were living in my parents' old hometown.  I googled their address and sent them a Christmas card, and Gloria wrote back.  It's lovely to hear from her again.  We always thought she'd be the one to end up out here and I'd stay in Maine--she loves hot weather and the Southwest.  I'm hoping to see her the next time she heads out this way.

And finally, today I had one of the most touching fan letters I've ever had.  Mountain's Call has far exceeded any previous fan response anyway--in twenty years and over thirty books I haven't had anything like the fan mail I've had for this one in the past five months.  It's kind of amazing.

Anyway, this was from a young girl in Australia who is dyslexic and has trouble getting through a whole book. She finished this one in four days--a record for her--and very much wants to read the next one.

That's one of the reasons why I do this--for responses like that. 

So, all in all,  the omens are clearly pointing toward staying in the business, both books and horses.  Now if the Mother Ship would just get the cash flowing, life would be dandy.  But hey, the logjam has to break someday, right?

Meanwhile, am noodling with revisions for Song of Unmaking, mulling ideas for an anthology story, and easing into the next Tor book.  Medieval French-zoid.  Tres Riches Heures.  Yes.

Comments

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

Yes and amen on the money--sigh--double agreement on those letters.

I talked more about Mountain's Call over on my reading log; I thought it a wonderful book.

[larryhammer]

Okay, where's your reading blog? And why don't you ever mention it?

---L.

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

Just on my webpage, and I don't mention it because usually it's far sketchier than my discussions here, but because school has been extra demanding and I cannot seem to get caught up with slog, I've shorted my recent reading for LJ discussion.

But it's here

http://sff.net/people/sherwood/RecentReading.htp

[larryhammer]

<bookmarks for snarfling>

[dancinghorse.livejournal.com]

Gracias! I really liked your reading log--scrolled through it a bit and enjoyed the piquant bits and chewy morsels. It's a very nice log.

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

...and the misspellings? *glorp*

But thanks! :-)