It came overnight. One day it was still sunny and in the 60s… the next morning we woke to snow.
Not much snow, thankfully. It came down in picturesque individual flakes for most of the day, and bowed itself out in a twenty-minute snow shower of blizzard proportions, just before sunset, which left the roofs white and the lawns frosted. Very pretty.
But it is winter. It was 17F when I woke up this morning. Time to haul out…
As you can see, I have a theme for the winter. Black and white and red is serendipitously fashionable the now, but I’m into it because of those darn books I keep writing: red, and tartan, and trapper plaid especially. Yep, I’m still at it… the writing I mean. Still not particularly good at it. Still learning about it, as fast as I can. Still enjoying the heck out of it. I have published a new edition of the first book that is a vast improvement on the original editions. On the day before Thanksgiving, I am committed to publishing the third book in the series. And I have begun the fourth.
They are my “sandbox” novels. I am learning how to write them as I go. Sales are appropriately dismal: I have just about broken even on the copyright fees for the three titles I have published. That’s a self-supporting hobby, though, which is grand. And it stops me from shopping. Much. Well, I shop much less than I used to.