Welcome back, dear readers. Another month passed and it’s been busy. We’ve been playing catch-up. It’s possible we’ll finish catching up, some day or other, but that day hasn’t arrived yet.
Dear Daughter is doing well. Better living through modern chemistry is possible. I’ve often said that we’re at the turn of the last century in terms of treating mental illness. That is, we’re at the stage of understanding that handwashing and clean water can prevent disease. That’s where we’re at in treating brain chemistry issues. Back in the 1860s, Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis developed the concept of handwashing before surgery and delivering babies. He was ridiculed into an early grave because everyone knew that gentlemen never had dirty hands and how could that possibly matter anyways.
What do we not know today about the complexities of brain chemistry? Solar systems crammed with information, I’m sure. For you lucky readers who haven’t had to cope with anyone’s mental issues and the medical system, it’s like exploring Carlsbad Caverns with a candle and a piece of string. A single candle doesn’t do much to illuminate the vasty darkness filled with swirling monsoons of bats fluttering around the stalactites but that’s all modern medicine has to work with. The string helps you keep track of where you’ve been, but it, too, is completely inadequate.
My parents are hanging in there. My sister-in-law is slowly and painfully getting them to make tiny upgrades to their house so they can continue aging in place. She’s been a Godsend. I visit regularly and in fact was planning to visit next week. Naturally, the car broke down. Nothing dramatic like an accident (thank God!). I was close to home, got home safely, and had the car towed to the dealer. I am not visiting my parents next week.
Cats! Cats! Cats! Cats!
Dimitri, our adorable intern is settling in nicely. He was king of the household, ruler of all he surveyed, busily inspecting every aspect of our household. Nonetheless, he was bored and got into mischief as only 12-week-old kittens can. We decided he needed a playmate.
Which is how, on Saturday, 31 July, we adopted three adult cats: Madeline, Lulu, and Sasha. Madeline and Lulu are both tortoiseshells, about 3 years old, and had to be adopted together. I adore tortoiseshell cats and still miss beautiful Vanessa, a gorgeous tortoiseshell, every day.
Sasha is about 18 months old, a gray tabby/tuxedo; gray tabby on top and white underneath.
It’s been an adventure. I can see now why so few people adopt adult cats. They do not like the disruption in their lives and resent very much being tossed about from household to household like unwanted, used pillows. Kittens, besides being playful and adorable, adapt far quicker.
As I write this, Madeline, Lulu, and Sasha have been with us for three full weeks. Lulu is now willing to be seen, sometimes to be petted, and will — if she feels like it — sleep on someone’s bed. Sasha skitters madly from hiding place to hiding place, but she too is willing to be seen. They both eat in public as that’s the only way they can compete with Dimitri. Growing boy kittens are always hungry and if the girls are eating, then shouldn’t he be eating too? His thought process is very clear.
Madeline — who was the friendliest of the bunch while at PetSmart — is proving the most recalcitrant in our home. She insists on tucking herself behind Bill’s computer. He coaxes her out with treats for a few minutes of scratching and then it’s back into hiding. Madeline comes out at night to roam, eat, and use the litter box. Sometimes we see her flitting about. Like Lulu, she’s a tortoiseshell but she’s got a medium-length coat. Longer hair, longer name. Lulu is a standard shorthair so she’s got the shorter name.
Lulu came to us with the same name as Dear Daughter. Since I didn’t want confusion between cat and daughter (stop clawing the drapes! The dishes need washing!) we renamed her to something close to what she was used to. She seems okay with it. I guess. It’s hard to tell with cats. What’s one more change when your life has been completely disrupted and you’re now forced to live with strange people and strange cats? At least she’s still with Madeline.
I have hopes that by the next newsletter (mid-September instead of late September if at all possible) that all four kitties will be roaming about, sleeping on beds, being friendly, and sounding like thundercats as they race down the hallways at top speed. Dimitri’s adapting too; learning what the girls will and will not tolerate.
Our struggle over having our Complete, Annotated books being released outside of the U.S. seems to be slowly working itself out. We are deeply grateful we haven’t been sued or banned on Amazon.
Moving forward on books and social media
During all this some things have moved forward.
I’m teaching myself Canva. Aaaargh. It’s letting me produce Instagram posts for our account. I choose amusing quotes from Career Indie Author Quote Book and add backgrounds, borders, our logo, etc. The plan is for Bill to post a new quote Monday – Friday. We have twelve followers already! How exciting.
We’ve opened comments on my Agatha Christie reviews. So far, only spammers have found them but there’s always hope. I’ve had to learn some WordPress software to manage comments. It, like Canva, is not what I’d call user-friendly but I persevere.
We are still working on the books. When will the next title be published and which one will it be? I dunno. Every time I make a forecast, I’m wrong. I’ve obviously tempted fate too much so I’ll stop. I will say that Bill’s finished writing The Man in the Brown Suit and I’m editing it. He’s got The Cases of Blue Ploermell close to completion so … maybe one of them in September?
I wrote “The End” on Dimitri and Celeste, a novella of about 32,000 words. It needs some editing and rewriting before it’s ready to be seen. As to when that will be, I don’t know. I wanted to write the story so I did. Selling it is something else. One of the challenges of being an indie author is you can write something because you want to write it. But then what do you do with it? What I have done is most definitely not writing to market.
We’re Lost in the Supermarket
Speaking of which, the supermarket has gotten strange again (never mind the headline above; Bill’s been listening to The Clash again).
I’m once again seeing large gaps where products used to be. Cleaning vinegar, anyone? It’s not in my supermarket. I don’t want you, dear reader, to think my tinfoil beanie is screwed on too tight but I’ll say it anyway. If you don’t have a few weeks of necessities stocked in your pantry, start shopping now. The Covid-19 shutdowns last year are still reverberating through our economy, far longer than I thought they would. I have no idea what’s going on in the world. That said, knowing your family can eat for a few weeks is wonderful peace of mind. In fact, I wrote a book on the subject of preparing for emergencies: Fed, Safe, and Sheltered. If you’ve got questions about stocking up or living on less, the answer is here. Just a reminder: we did what indie authors can do. We retitled and recovered Suburban Stockade because Fed, Safe, and Sheltered is a much better title that explains the contents more completely than the old title did. The cover is better too.
So that’s where we’re at. We’ve got four cats underfoot, we’ve got books in the pipeline, the family is doing okay, and we’ve got a month of toilet paper. You should too.
Thanks again for joining us at Peschel Press. Where would we be without you, dear readers? Tossing our words into the swirling winds in Carlsbad Caverns. Where bats fly but they don’t read.