monday morning post-pinkie pie party action report.

It’s Monday, and the house is QUIET. The dogs are snoozing in front of the pellet stove, which we had to turn on again last night because the temperature was predicted to dip down to freezing overnight. That marks the first day of the year when we had to run the pellet stove and the window air conditioning unit ON THE SAME DAY.

We had a little shindig for Miss Lyra on Sunday. She turns six on Wednesday, so we pulled the party back just a bit to the one weekend this month where most of our friends were available. There was cake and presents and an inflatable 12-foot pool and ten kids in the 3-9 age bracket running around on the Castle grounds, so you may understand why I emphasized the QUIET in the first sentence of this post.

Now back to work. I have this thing called a “contract” that specifies I have to deliver this here novel by the end of the month, and it still needs a little work, so I should probably get to it. But understand that this is not a Monday gripe. Drinking coffee in a quiet house and making up stories beats the hell out of digging ditches or changing diapers when it comes to ways to make a living.

7 thoughts on “monday morning post-pinkie pie party action report.

  1. It’s hell, beating on those syllables with a hammer until they’re pattern-welded into usable paragraph stock.

  2. Good Morning Marko,

    I doubt that any of your e-friends could be happier for you as you begin this next – very much deserved – chapter of your life. A wildly successful novel. A publishing contract.

    For those who haven’t been paying attention to the level of effort over years of labor, you would seem to be an overnight success.

    I too had a party for my daughter this weekend. It was her Senior Prom. I looked at her and could not comprehend who that beautiful young woman was, nor where my little girl had gone. The years between pedal-car and limo seem to have lasted only days.

    I have always respected your appreciation of – and dedication to – Robin, Quinn, and Lyra. You now also have my sincerest best wishes for your continued professional success.

    You will earn my profound admiration if you continue to maintain your perspective and priorities in balance with your new success.

    Memento mori, my friend.


  3. > I have this thing called a “contract” that specifies I have to deliver this here novel by the end of the month

    A contract? Wait – what did I miss?

  4. Doah! Never mind. There it is.

    I think that Google is starting to let GoogleReader decay in advance of its official shut down date – I haven’t seen any posts from you pop up in several weeks, but here they are in your blog.

    Harrumph. That’s the last time I spend … uh… $0 for a feed reader.

    OK, maybe not.

  5. I’m on a vacation with my bride, getting some much-needed time away from wrangling four wonderful minions of our own, only to take a chance on “Terms of Enlistment” as a holiday-read. I blew through it in less than two-days, and could hardly put it down. As a novelist, I’m pretty picky; for whatever it’s worth, you have a new fan – hooked.